Page 54 of Girl, Reformed

Ripley's face floated by, hard eyes in asoft face. Tough as a coil of razor wire wrapped in silk. Ripley. Where was sheright now? Had she finally come around, or was she still trying to delay theinevitable? The thoughts bubbled by, drifting away in a stream of worry.

Ben drifted past her mind’s eye next,sunny smile and surgeon's hands. Golden boy wonder, always reaching, alwaysjust out of grasp. He shimmered like a mirage, bright and blurry round theedges. He was out there right now, California dreaming, ocean gleaming.

Brrrring.

Ella jolted awake with a snort. Her mouthsuddenly tasted like vinegar. Hey, bleary eyes swept the office.

‘You gonna get that?’ Luca asked fromacross the table, brows hoisted to his hairline. Kid looked fresh as a daisy.Curse his perfect pores.

Brrrring.

Phone. Right.

Ella snatched the receiver like it mightscuttle away. ‘This is Agent Dark,’ she said.

'Another one.' Harland's voice camethrough. His voice was as raw as a back alley brawl.

Ella's heart leapt then plunged like abungee jumper with a frayed cord. ‘Another one? Where?’

Luca caught the comment and stood toattention.

‘Snickersville Square. My guy saw thefreak in action.’

‘Saw him in action?’

Ella hoped, prayed that there was more toHarland’s comment than that. Please say you have him in chains.

‘Yeah,’ Harland said, ‘but he got away.’

Of course he did. Because the universe wasa twisted old biddy with a sick sense of humor.

‘Dammit.’ The word slipped out, heartfeltas a prayer.

‘224 Allenstown. Chuckles Fountain.’

Ella wasn’t sure she heard him right. ‘Thewhat?’

‘Just GPS it and get here now.’

‘On it.’ Ella hung up the phone andgrabbed her jacket. Luca cocked his head, question mark stamped on his mug.

‘What’s going on?’

She’d been wrong. This killer wasn’tstopping at two.

‘Unsub struck again. We need to get therenow.’

***

Ella screeched into the regular cop carpetthat was Snickersville Square and slammed the brakes next to a cruiser with itsPD blues still swirling.

‘Guess this is the place.’ Luca had hisdoor swung open before the car lurched to a standstill. Ella was right behindhim as they jogged into the neon-soaked nightmare.

A few stray onlookers buzzed round theedges, pressing against the yellow tape. Necks craned, cellphones snapping forsocial media likes and shares. Anything for clout in this sick, sad world. Ellashouldered past them, face hard as the badge in her pocket. No time forlooky-loos when there was a job to do.

She slipped under the tape with Luca closebehind, and a grim scene of death and stone made itself known.

And smack dab in the middle, chained tothe Chuckles Memorial Fountain like Christ on the cross, was a body. A man'sbody, all dressed up for a night on the wrong side of the tracks.

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