Page 31 of Girl, Haunted

Ella's eyes bored into Isabella like diamond-tipped drills. She decided to cut to the chase. ‘Where were you on Saturday and Sunday evening?’

Isabella didn't flinch. ‘Right here. Burning the midnight oil 'til the wee hours. Just me and the ghouls.’ She waved a manicured hand at the security cameras perched in the corners. ‘My all-seeing eyes can vouch for me. I'm married to this place, for better or worse. Mostly worse.’

Ella's eyes flicked to the cameras. Digital eyes. If Isabella was lying, she'd need one hell of a hacker in her corner.

‘We’ll need to see that footage,’ Luca said.

‘I can get it for you now.’

‘Before we get there,’ Ella said. Time to play the ace up her sleeve. She reached into her bag and pulled out the cuddly piece of evidence. ‘Recognize this?’

For the first time, a crack in the porcelain. Isabella winced like Ella had waved a crucifix in her face. The color drained from her face so fast that Ella thought she might keel over.

‘Uh, shit,’ Isabella cried. Her accent slipped from posh Brit to Cockney in less than a second. ‘That's... that'shis. That little wanker.’

‘His?Who do you mean?’

Isabella scooted back on her chair, putting some distance between her and Ella’s fuzzy friend. ‘One of my old actors. Roland Pierce. That bear was his, uh, signature.’

Ella's neck snapped to attention so hard she nearly gave herself whiplash. Now they were getting somewhere. ‘How do you mean, signature?’

‘Roland was insane. Took this horror schtick way too seriously. He used to glue that bear to the back of his head, like a Siamese twin or whatever.’

Luca perked up like a bloodhound catching a scent. ‘Wait a second, Roland Pierce?’

Ella turned to him. ‘You know the name?’

'He was on that list of actors at the Crematorium. The one I went through this morning.'

‘Of course he was,’ Isabella laughed. ‘Van Allen poached him off me, but he was welcome to him. Roland caused me a ton of problems. He used to get very handsy with the punters, especially the women. Called himself a method actor, but he was just using these haunts to get his rocks off.’

Ella and Luca exchanged a look. This Roland Pierce was sounding more intriguing by the second.

‘And he used this exact teddy bear?’ Luca asked.

‘Looks pretty damn similar to me,’ Isabella said. ‘The nutcase used to dress up as a giant bear. That’s why I hired him. To use him in my creepy cuddly room. But the dickhead didn’t know where to draw the line.’

The gears in Ella's head were at smoking point. Obsession? Delusion? Psychosis? Whatever the case, she needed to find this man.

‘Any idea where Roland Pierce is now?’

‘Beats me, sweetheart. Could be anywhere.’

Ella compiled everything into her mental catalog. First, she needed to verify Isabella’s alibi. Then she needed her list of actors for her records. Then she needed to track down Roland Pierce.

Isabella swung back to her desk and began typing. ‘I’ll give you footage of my camera feeds from the past week. Just tell me where to email it.’

Luca gave her his address. Ella scrutinized Isabella one last time. Height, build, mannerisms. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn’t fit the physical profile of the masked killer in the footage.

Time to focus on the next turn in the maze. Roland Pierce. The man behind the bear.

Game on.

CHAPTER TWELVE

To an outsider, he might have looked like any other writer lost in the throes of creation. But the words flowing from his pen were far from ordinary fiction.

He was chronicling history. His history. The birth of true fear in a world that had forgotten what it meant to be truly afraid. He set the pen down and surveyed the new nightmare he’d birthed onto the page.

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