Page 20 of Girl, Reborn

She hustled over and took a closer look.The side panel read: 152 Hemlock Lane Bristol, VA 24201.

‘What am I looking at?’

‘You’re looking at a clapboard colonialthat screams tax evasion, but more importantly, you’re looking at RickyToledo’s house.’

Ella squinted, then suddenly the bottomdropped out of her stomach. It couldn't be. It was too easy, too obvious. Andyet there it was in lurid technicolor, begging her to investigate it in theflesh.

It was a beautiful home on the outskirtsof Bristol.

And it had one hell of a swimming pool.

CHAPTER TEN

The sun hung high and hot as Ella and Lucawhipped along the dusty back roads, eating up the miles between Liberty Groveand Ricky Toledo's estate. On paper, this whole thing was a long shot.Following a hunch based on a blurry satellite image was no way to collar akiller. And Ella couldn't shake the feeling that they were about to shake atree full of rotten apples right down on their fool heads.

But if being sensible was a requirementfor the job, she'd have hung up her badge before her first field assignment.The juiciest leads were always the ones marinated in poor choices and servedwith a side of gut instinct.

So she sat with it, let it ripen likefruit in the sun.

Beside her, Luca drummed his fingers onthe armrest. ‘So, working theory: If Toledo was the ultimate bachelor, livingthat single life in the 'burbs, our killer could've followed him home from somecampaign stop or fundraiser. Waited for the right moment, then–’

‘Bam.’ Ella mimed a blow to the head.‘Lights out, Councilman. Drag him out back for a little moonlight swim, watchhim sink, then haul ass to Liberty Grove to dump the body.’

‘The water smell could've been from hispool if it hadn't been cleaned in a while. Or if the unsub held him under inthe shallow end and stirred up all the grunge.’

‘Hell of a way to go.’ Ella hung a sharpleft onto Hemlock Lane. The SUV’s struts protested as they bounced over thesupersized speed bumps. Apparently the well-heeled of Bristol didn't appreciateplebes joyriding through their manicured slice of heaven. The wrought ironfences and electronic locks made that crystal clear.

‘Up here,’ Luca said.

Toledo's place rose up like a cardboardcutout against the too-blue sky. Even half-obscured by a gauntlet of toweringmagnolias, Toledo's sprawling plantation-style manse was a behemoth.Buttermilk-yellow with black shutters and honest-to-god Corinthian columns.Like the beautiful bastard lovechild of Twelve Oaks and a McMansion. Theattached three-car garage probably cost more than Ella's entire apartmentcomplex.

Ella killed the engine and the suddenquiet rang like a struck gong. For a long moment, they just sat, staring up atthe colossus of new money and old values. Then Luca said, ‘Smack my ass. Toledowasn’t shy about flashing the cash.’

‘Boy probably had to beat donors off witha stick.’ Ella popped the door. ‘Alright, that's enough rubbernecking. Let'stake a look at this place, see if there are any footprints or scuff marks or adriver’s license that fell out of our killer’s pocket.’

‘I like the optimism,’ Luca said and piledout. Ella followed, and the heat slapped her in the face as soon as her bootshit the gravel and sweat sprang up like a rash at her hairline. God Almighty.No wonder this town was withering on the vine.

Luca seemed to be faring no better,tugging at his t-shirt like it offended him as they slogged their way up thelong drive. But somehow, he managed to pull it off well, whereas Ella felt likea melting wax statue.

The house loomed larger with each step,the empty windows staring down like a skull's eye sockets. No movement behindthe blinds, no sweet iced tea sweating on the porch rail. Just an echoingstillness, a mausoleum's hush. The front door was solid oak, stained a deepmahogany, with a heavy brass knocker that probably cost more than Ella's car.

Luca raised a fist to bang on it, but Ellastopped him with a look. ‘Something tells me Toledo isn't gonna answer, whatwith him being dead and all.’

Luca rolled his eyes. ‘Procedure, AgentDark. I know it's a foreign concept, but we gotta at least pretend this is allabove board.’ But he stepped back, ceding the point.

‘The pool is round the back.’

Ella skirted around the side of the house,following the decorative stone path to the back gate. Eight-foot, wrought iron,with pointed finials marching along the top like a row of spears. The latch wasa heavy padlock, solid as a rock.

Ella reached out to give it anexperimental tug, but it didn't budge. She glanced up, gauging the height, thedistance between posts. Doable, but not exactly discreet.

‘You sure about this?’ Luca's voice at herelbow made her startle. He was giving her one of those looks, the kind thatread her intentions without the need for words. ‘We’re being GPS tracked,remember?’

Ella raked a hand through the sweatytangles of her hair. Luca was right. She needed to explain every move she madeto the top brass, but the secrets of the dead had a way of staying buried ifsomeone didn't dig them up.

‘We've got probable cause coming out ourears,’ she said firmly. ‘A dead politician, a hinky crime scene, and a poolthat may or may not be ground zero for this whole mess. No way a judge wouldn'tsign off on this.’

Luca still looked skeptical, but she couldsee him wavering. He wanted this as bad as she did. Wanted to feel the thrillof the hunt, the pieces falling into place. And he trusted her, God help him.Trusted her to steer them right.

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