Page 40 of Girl, Reborn

But Ella Dark wasn't about to let themwin.

Virginia was her state, and she’d bedamned if she let a serial killer roam free here.

Game on.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Ella stood on the Ayers' porch, eyeballingthe place like it might sprout fangs and bite her. The house was a real sliceof suburban paradise, with its crisp white siding and manicured hedges. Thekind of joint where the HOA probably measured your grass with a ruler and finedyou if it grew a millimeter too high.

She hated this part of the job. Hated itwith the burning passion of a thousand suns. Dropping the A-bomb on some poorfamily, watching their world implode in real-time. It was enough to make herwant to chuck her badge in the nearest river and take up basket weaving.

Luca fidgeted beside her, looking about ascomfortable as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. ‘You want meto do the talking?’ he asked.

Ella shook her head. The rookie was doinggreat, and the last thing she wanted was to douse his fire by throwing him intothe deep end. ‘It’s fine. I'm the bearer of bad news. It's my cross to bear.’

She raised her fist to knock, thenhesitated. How many doors had she darkened over the years? How many lives hadshe shattered with a few choice words? Sometimes, she felt less like a cop andmore like the Grim Reaper's personal secretary.

Luca cleared his throat. ‘You gonna knock,or should I go fetch a battering ram?’

Ella shot him a look that could curdlemilk. ‘Keep your pants on, Hawkins. I'm working up to it.’

She sucked in a breath, steeling herself,then gently rapped on the door.

For a long moment, nothing. Then themuffled sound of footsteps, and the door swung open.

Julie Ayers was a knockout, the kind ofwoman who made Ella feel like yesterday's leftovers wrapped in a dirty dishtowel. All legs and curves poured into yoga pants and a silk blouse thatprobably cost more than Ella's monthly rent. Her hair was artfully tousled inthat ‘I woke up like this’ way that actually took three hours and a team ofstylists to achieve.

She blinked at them, confusion wrinklingher perfect brow. ‘Can I help you?’

Ella flashed her badge. ‘Mrs. Ayers? I'mSpecial Agent Ella Dark, and this is my partner, Agent Hawkins. We're with theFBI. We need to talk to you about your husband, Marcus.’

Julie's eyes narrowed, suspicion bloominglike a toxic flower. ‘Marcus? What about him?’

‘Ma'am, when was the last time you sawyour husband?’

Julie shrugged, the movement graceful as aballet dancer. ‘Yesterday morning, I think? He left for work early, said he hada big project due.’

Ella blinked, thrown for a loop. She'dbeen bracing for tears, for the anguished wails of a woman who knew, deep down,that her world was about to shatter. But Julie looked about as concerned as ifElla had asked about the weather.

‘You're not worried that he didn't comehome last night?’

Julie's laugh was musical. Like windchimes in a summer breeze. ‘Oh, honey. Marcus works late all the time.Sometimes he doesn't stumble home until the next afternoon, dead on his feet.I've learned not to wait up.’

Ella's stomach twisted into a viciousknot. This was worse, so much worse. Usually, the partners of missing people expectbad news to show up on their doorstep eventually. How did you tell someonetheir loved one was never coming home when it was the last thing they expected?

She opened her mouth, but before she coulddrop the bomb, Luca stepped in.

‘Mrs. Ayers,’ he said, his voice gentle asa padre at confession. ‘I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but we foundyour husband's body this morning. He's dead, ma'am.’

The world seemed to stop. The birds fellsilent, the breeze died, even the sun seemed to dim. For a heartbeat, Juliejust stared, uncomprehending. The woman was probably weighing up the likelihoodof this being a dream or a prank or a case of mistaken identity.

Then Julie’s face crumpled like wetcardboard.

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No, that's not... Hecan't be...’

And then she was falling, her legs givingout like someone had cut her strings. Luca lunged forward, catching her beforeshe could hit the ground. He lowered her gently, murmuring soothing nonsense asJulie began to wail.

It was a sound Ella had heard too manytimes before. The keening cry of a soul in agony, of a heart breaking inreal-time. It cut through her like a serrated knife, leaving ragged edges thatwould never quite heal.

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