Page 50 of Girl, Reformed

Harland huffed, arms crossed over hisbarrel chest. ‘Yeah, the look of a woman who's just bought a steaming pile ofgarbage. You really buyin' this 'mystery client' routine?’

Ella shrugged, leaning back against thedesk. 'Honestly, yeah. Aleister's story tracks. He's a small-time grifter, notsome criminal mastermind. Guy couldn't plan his way out of a wet paper bag, letalone orchestrate two clean murders.'

‘Just 'cause this mook can stringtwo sentences together doesn't mean he's innocent. Coulda been playing you,feedin' you a line to save his own sorry hide.’

But Luca stepped forward, shaking hishead. ‘No, I'm with Ella on this one. Aleister's reactions were genuine. Theshock, the confusion, the fear? You can't fake that, not unless you're gunningfor an Oscar.’ He ticked off the points on his fingers, building steam. ‘Lookat the facts. Aleister's got no connection to the victims, no motive beyond hisFrankenstein fetish. He's a junkie, not a killer. And Aleister is dripping inpotential DNA evidence. That crazy hair, meth chemicals. That guy left me smellinga pharmacy just sitting near him.’

Ella couldn’t hold back her grin. The kidhad good instincts, she'd give him that. Couple more years on the job and he'dbe running circles around the rest of these flatfoots.

Harland threw up his hands, disgust etchedinto every craggy line of his mug. ‘Alright, alright. You've made your point.So if de Sade ain't our guy, that means this sicko's still out there, probablyscouting his next victim as we speak.’

A lead weight settled in Ella's gut.Harland was right. Every minute they wasted jawing was another minute theirunsub had to hunt, to plan, to salivate over whatever twisted fantasy wasbrewing in that diseased head of his.

She pushed off the desk, already reachingfor her jacket. ‘Chief, we need boots on the ground. Every dive bar, club, andwatering hole in the city. Both our vics were snatched after last call. Can youget your guys to keep an eye on places that have secluded areas nearby?Alleyways, empty lots, that kind of thing?’

Harland grunted. ‘I might have a few guysfree. Leave it with me.’

The chief was already barking orders downthe crackle of his walkie before the door swung shut behind him, leaving Ellaand Luca alone in the sudden quiet. He looked wrung out, like a dishrag thathad been put through the wringer one too many times. The adrenaline crash, shereckoned. That post-interrogation slump that hit like a sack of wet cement whenthe action died down and your body remembered it was running on fumes and aprayer.

‘You alright there, Hawkins?’

Luca huffed out a laugh. 'Yeah, yeah. I'mgood. It's just...intense, I guess. Being in the room, watching a guy unravellike that. I wasn't expecting it to hit me so hard. What about you?'

Ella softened, just a touch. Sheremembered her first time in the box. It was like jumping out of a plane withno chute, no net, no guarantee that you'd walk out in one piece.

‘It gets easier,’ she said. ‘Never easy,but easier. You did good in there. Kept your cool, asked the right questions.Couldn't have done it without you.’

And damn if she didn't mean it. Luca hadheld his own, been the good cop to her bad, the honey to her vinegar. They madea good team, loathe as she was to admit it. For some reason, it felt like abetrayal to Ripley.

‘What do you say we call it a night?’ shecontinued. ‘Come at it fresh in the morning.’

But Luca shook his head, squaring hisshoulders like he was psyching himself up for another round. ‘I’ve still gotsome gas in the tank if you have.’

‘Always,’ Ella said.

‘Then let’s keep going.’ But Ella could seesomething else in his eyes, something haunted and far away. Like he was seeingghosts in every corner. Maybe he was just telling her what she wanted to hear.‘Don’t persevere just because I’m an insomniac. If you want to head to bed, that’sfine by me.’

Ella didn’t catch the double-meaning untilshe’d spat the words out. However, they seemed to go right over Luca’s head.

‘Thank you. It's just...’ he started, thentrailed off, gaze darting away from hers. ‘It's nothing. Forget it.’

Like hell, she would. Ella leaned in,ducking her head to catch his eye. 'Spit it out, Hawkins. If something's wrong,speak up, or you'll end up like me.'

Luca's shoulders hunched up around hisears. ‘It's ancient history. Don't worry about it.’

‘That’s what war criminals say.’

‘True.’

‘So spit it. We’re partners, your historyis my history. And I know that look on your face. I’ve seen it in the mirroroften enough.’

Luca flinched like she'd slapped him, eyesdarting away, fingers twitching towards the pistol in his holster. Rookie tell.Reaching for the weapon when the cracks started to show, like it could ward offall the evil in the world.

‘It was a long time ago,’ he said. ‘I wasjust a kid. Seventeen, dumb as a box of hair.’

Ella waited, letting the silence stretch.She knew this dance, this stumbling two-step of confession and absolution. Youcouldn't rush it, couldn't yank the story out by the roots. Had to let itunfurl in its own sweet time.

‘Me and my girlfriend, we went camping.’Luca's eyes unfocused, seeing something far away and long ago. ‘Up in theBerkshires, this sweet little spot by a lake. Thought it'd be romantic, y'know?Just the two of us, a tent, a whole lotta starry sky.’

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