Page 14 of Girl, Reformed

Luca blinked. Deer in the headlights. Buthe rallied quickly and flipped to a fresh page in his notebook. Before he beganscribbling, he asked, 'Are you testing me?'

‘If you want.’

‘Alright, go easy,’ Luca said. ‘Unsub ismid-twenties to mid-thirties. Menial job. Minimum wage. Feels looked down on.Disrespected. Loner. Lives alone.’

‘Why?’

‘If he lived with someone else, they’dpick up on his mental issues. No one had a chance to see this guy’s spiral, andnow we’re witnessing the limit of it. And he’s a white male, goes withoutsaying.’

Ella looked over at his notes.

‘Why is he a white male?’

‘Both victims are white. Even if there’sno sexual component – which there isn’t – serial killers are still more likelyto hunt within their own racial groups.’

‘True. What else?’

‘History of mental illness. Rejectionsensitive. Lacks emotional coping skills.’ Luca was in the zone now. Wordsflowing fast and furious. ‘I'm seeing a triggering event. Something that pushedhim over the edge. Made him feel less than.’

‘Like?’

‘Girlfriend dumped him. Got passed overfor a promotion. Kicked out of his LARP group.’

Ella snorted. ‘That’s a new one.’

‘Basement-dweller. Can't get laid, can'tget paid, can't get no respect. How am I doing so far?’

Ella fought the urge to slap his shoulderand tell him he was going to make a fine profiler. ‘Not bad, rookie, but Iwouldn’t rule out a sexual component yet. We don’t know if there are any signsof sexual assault, not to mention that these weird contraptions remind me ofsomething.’

Luca shot her a raised eyebrow. ‘BDSMrestraints?’

Ella shrugged. ‘Looks oddly familiar.’

‘Familiar, huh?’

‘Not like that.’ The car hit a pothole.Jounced them in their seats. Ella grabbed the oh-shit handle and felt theplastic bite into her palm. Luca chuckled and went back to his notes. ‘I mean,I saw it too. But these contraptions look like they’re made from wood andmetal. I don’t want to sound like an expert in weird sex, but aren’t bondagerestraints made from leather?’

Truthfully, Ella had no idea. This wasusually when she and Ripley would start riffing. Building theories. Bouncingideas like a deranged game of mental ping-pong.

Luca was good. Better than good. But hewasn't Mia.

‘I’d have to double-check,’ Ella said.‘Victim number one. What do we know about him?’

Her new partner skimmed back a few pagesin his folder. ‘Archie Newman, twenty-six years old. Works as a bartender.Lives with his parents. No criminal record. Not a whole lot to go on.’

‘And victim number two?’

Luca flipped a page. ‘Georgia Bolton.Twenty-four. Waitress at a dive bar called The Rusty Nail. That’s pretty muchall we’ve got.’

A waitress, perhaps with dreams ofsomething better. Story old as time. Until some twisted freak decided to makeher the star of his own private snuff film.

Ella drummed her fingers on her thigh. 'Sowe've got a bartender and a waitress. Both are in their mid-twenties. Bothprobably slinging drinks to the same crowd.'

‘Maybe they knew each other,’ Lucasuggested.

‘Dover’s a decent size, but it’s possible.We need to check out their personal lives and see if anything overlaps.’

Luca scratched his pen against the paper.Ella watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was eager, endearingly eager.Like a puppy straining at the leash, ready to chase the first scent thatcrossed his path. She just hoped he had the stomach for it. Hunting monsterswasn't for the faint of heart. You had to be willing to burn the worst ofhumanity into your retinas and somehow live with it for the rest of your life.

---