Page 15 of Girl, Reformed

Luca glanced up, caught her looking. Hisbrow furrowed. ‘Something on your mind?’

Ella shook her head. ‘Just thinking. Thisunsub, he's bold. Dumping bodies in public like that. He wants to make astatement.’

‘And what's that?’

‘That he's in control. That he can dowhatever he wants and no one can stop him.’ Ella's lip curled. ‘But he's wrong.We're gonna stop him. We're gonna nail his ass to the wall.’

Luca's eyes gleamed. ‘Damn straight.’

The kid had fire. Ella had to give himthat. But fire only got you so far in this line of work. You needed ice in yourveins, too. The kind of cold, calculated detachment that let you look at amangled corpse and see evidence instead of a person.

She wondered if Luca had that. Or if he'dburn out fast and bright, just another casualty of the job.

Only one way to find out.

Luca peered out the window, his nosewrinkling. ‘When we get there, where are we heading? The precinct?’

‘Afraid not,’ Ella said. ‘We’re goingright into the heart of it.’

‘Where’s that?’

Ella tapped her case file. ‘These thingsonly give you half of the story. When you see the crime scene, things suddenlylook a lot different. We’re going to visit Georgia Bolton’s death site. Withany luck, it should still be warm.’

Luca nodded, soaking it up like a sponge.Kid was a quick study. Ella just hoped he was ready for the crash course.

She eyed the bulge under his jacket. ‘Youcomfortable with that thing?’

Luca glanced down, patted his side. ‘Mygun? Yeah, I think so. I mean, I passed my qualifications, but how often do youhave to… you know….?’

‘Shoot someone?’ Ella finished for him.She barked a laugh, short and sharp.

‘Yeah.’

'In my whole time in the field, I've shottwo people, which is more times than I'd like.'

‘Only two?’

‘Never point your gun at something unlessyou intend to kill it, and I’ve only intended to kill once. The other time wasdamage control.’

Her hand drifted to her pocket and brushedagainst the hard edge of her phone. She thought of Mia, probably drowning hersorrows in a bottle of Jack, cursing Ella's name with every sip.

She should call her. Check in. Make sureshe hadn't done anything stupid. But what would she say? Sorry for accusingyour boyfriend of being a serial killer. My bad.

No. Mia needed time. Space. And Ella had ajob to do. She couldn't let herself get distracted.

In the front of the car, the driverglanced in his central mirror and said, ‘Twenty minutes ‘til arrival.’

She straightened in her seat. Rolled hershoulders. Felt the familiar weight of her Glock nestled against her ribs.

Another day at the office awaited, anotherdance with the devil.

She just hoped they both made it outwithout too many scars. But she wasn't betting on it, because in this business,the house always won in the end.

Ella was damned. She knew that. Had knownit for a long time. But maybe, just maybe, she could keep Luca from sharing herfate.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ella rolled up on Chautauqua Park like astorm cloud, ready to rain hell. The place was swarming with uniforms, yellowtape flapping in the breeze like a flock of pissed off canaries. Looky-loosclustered at the perimeter, noses pressed to the proverbial glass, likevultures circling a fresh kill.

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