Page 73 of Girl, Reformed

Briarcliff was a shithole, even by Doverstandards. Cracked pavement, busted chain link fencing bristling like rottenteeth. A junkyard of broken dreams, coughed up and spat out by the same meanstreets that had made Sebastian Doyle the man he was today. Ella cranked thewheel, brought the unmarked to a shuddering stop at the curb. 5284 squattedhalfway down the block, and Luca was out of the door before the engine had timeto die. Ella jumped out and caught up with him. The blood was roaring so loudlyin her ears that she almost missed Harland's buzz-cut mug popping out the frontdoor.

‘Whoa, where's the fire?’ He held up a hamhock of a hand, brows beetling together. ‘Thought you two were gonna comethrough the wall.’

Ella shouldered past him, already scanningthe living room for blood spatters and body parts. But the place was quiet as achurch on Saturday night, just some golf rerun droning on the tube and the tickof a grandfather clock.

And there, perched on the sofa like he waswaiting for high tea, was who she assumed was Brandon Mulroney.

He blinked up at them, pale and a littlebaffled. Ella gave him a quick once-over. The kid was no hottie, that was forsure. Doughy and soft; the profile of a man who'd never met workout he couldn'tskip. Hairline making a desperate retreat from a shiny fivehead, jowls workingovertime to swallow a weak chin.

This was the guy who'dcaptured Doyle's breakdown on film? This was the guy that birthed a serialkiller for his own amusement? This book had no idea how close he'd come togetting snuffed. How tight the noose of his own digital dickery had gottenaround his flabby neck.

Jesus wept, she thought. It would be funnyif it wasn’t so tragic.

‘Brandon Mulroney?’ Ella didn't waste timeon a how-do. ‘Special Agent Dark, FBI. This is my partner, Special AgentHawkins. You know why we're here?’

The confusion melted from Mulroney's facelike a Dali clock, replaced by something resigned and faintly constipated.‘Yeah, the cops filled me in. Some psycho's taking out hecklers and I'm next onthe list, right?’

Ella opened her mouth, ready to read himthe riot act. Fill his ear with all the gory details of what happened tosnitches and stitches in Sebastian Doyle's brave new world. But Harland cut heroff at the pass.

‘Brandon here's been briefed,’ he said.‘No sign of our boy Doyle. Looks like we mighta jumped the gun on this one,Dark.’

The words hit Ella like a sock full ofpennies to the gut. No Doyle. No smoking gun, no trail of blood and teethleading to a funnyman-turned-psycho killer. Just another dead.

She shook it off, zeroed back in onBrandon. The guy was squirming like he had a hamster shoved somewhere intimate.Nervous. Hiding something.

‘Walk me through it again,’ she said. ‘Youwere at the Laughingstock that night. Caught Sebastian Doyle's meltdown oncandid camera. Spill.’

Brandon licked his lips, eyes darting toHarland like he was looking for a lifeline. But the chief just crossed hisarms, face straight as a Nevada highway.

Mulroney shifted, fingers lacing over thebeginnings of a beer gut. ‘Not much to tell. I wasn't even heckling,just...y'know. Filming. Documenting.’

Ella's ears pricked. ‘Documenting?’

‘Yeah, for like...proof. Evidence.’Mulroney shrugged his soft shoulders, picked at a hole in his sweatpants. ‘Ifelt bad for the guy, y'know? Doyle. He was dying up there, getting ripped toshreds. I thought maybe if I got it on tape...’

‘You could what? Get some clout on theInternet? Get some precious likes?’

‘No!’ Brandon spat. ‘Nothing like that.Those guys were disturbing the show. I wanted to get them kicked out, bannedfrom the club, something like that.’

Ella wasn’t buying it. ‘That's a prettylittle story, Brandon, but if you were so keen to play hero, why upload it forthe world to see? Why Make Seb Doyle the poster boy for public humiliation andturn him into a serial killer?’

Mulroney went still. Possum in the panlights still, barely breathing still. ‘I...I didn't...I mean, I was goingto, but...’

‘But what?’ Ella pressed, sensing blood inthe water and closing fast.

Brandon paled so fast Ella thought hemight faint. A skim of sweat popped out on his upper lip. ‘I couldn’t...’

‘Can it.’ Ella took a step forward,boiling over. Getting right up in Brandon's grille until she could see thespineless yellow of his eyes. ‘You got something to confess, better make itquick. Because I guarantee you, there's a killer out there who isn’t going toask twice.’

Mulroney's eyes flicked to Luca, toHarland looming in the doorway. Looking for an out, a friendly face in a sea ofbadges.

And then he crumbled like a sandcastle athigh tide. Ella almost felt sorry for the bastard. Almost.

‘Alright, Jesus,’ Mulroney cracked, thewords bursting out of him like pus from a zit. ‘I didn't have a choice, okay?Vanzetti made me do it!’

Luca blinked. ‘Who the hell is Vanzetti?’

‘Freddy Vanzetti,’ Mulroney half-sobbed.‘The owner of The Laughingstock. He paid me to post the video, said it'd bekiller publicity for the club.’

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