Page 7 of Girl, Haunted

‘Honey, I’m home,’ she said. The thirteen-hour flight had turned into eighteen hours with delays, so her expected arrival of last night turned into arrival this morning. She was a little disappointed that she didn’t have the opportunity to wake Luca up at stupid o’ clock, the annoyingly-sound sleeper that he was.

Ella threw off her shoes in the hallway made for the living room. It had been three months since Ella’s last case, where she’d apprehended a perp the media had since dubbed the Water Torture Killer. In that time, Ella and Luca had given in to their somewhat-obvious urges and become one. Ella had ditched the rented life and moved into Luca’s apartment in Takoma, a place that Luca was insistent Tom Cruise also called home, apparently in this very same complex. Luca had never seen him, of course, probably because Tom Cruise could afford tonotlive in Takoma, but Luca remained insistent regardless.

And perhaps most surprisingly of all, in the past three months, Mia Ripley – Ella's yin to her yang – had retired from thirty years of FBI service. There had been no party, no grand ceremony, not even a message on the noticeboard at HQ. In her last words to Ella, Ripley was 'throwing her phone in a woodchipper and setting sail for Hawaii.'

Then, as mysteriously as she arrived, she vanished.

It was strange, this life without Ripley. Apparently the woman hadn’t made good on her promise of destroying her phone, because she and Ella had exchanged a few texts since she’d called it quits, but Ella knew better than to pester her. So,she’d done the noble thing and left the woman to her retirement. The crazy old dog had earned it, doubly so since she was smart enough to get out before a bullet decided for her.

Ella's mind briefly drifted to that night by the riverbank, where she and Mia had confronted the ugly truth about Mia's ex-boyfriend. Ella wouldn’t be able to forget it; the trap, the gunshot, the body sliding beneath the waters. Police had fished him out thirty minutes later, and given the evidence they had on him, they had an open-and-shut case. Mia had confided that she was more troubled by her failure to see the truth than the fact that she had to pull the trigger. But from what Ella knew, the old dog was holding up well.

‘Honey, you’re home,’ Luca said. Ella found him in the living room, TV off, book nestled on his lap. He was wearing a white t-shirt that was two sizes too big and blue shorts two sizes too small.

Ella sauntered over and glimpsed the book cover. ‘Catcher in the Rye,’ she said as she dropped her bag on the floor.

‘Ever read it?’

‘No. Any good?’

Luca slammed the book shut and looked it over. ‘I’m two-hundred pages in and not once have I thought about killing John Lennon.’

Ella dropped on the couch beside him and put her feet on his lap. ‘I think someone already beat you to it.’

Luca threw the book on the coffee table and leaned over for a peck. ‘I’ll just have to kill one of the other Beatles then. How was the trial?’

‘Death penalty,’ Ella said. ‘Cold justice, some might say.’

‘I know. I saw the clips.’

‘The clips?’

Luca waved his phone at her. ‘They’re all over the news. Including your takedown of that attorney and your little rah-rah speech.’

‘Jeez. Is nothing sacred?’

‘Not anymore.’ Luca clasped his hands around her ankles and squeezed, then massaged up to her knees. ‘Nice little reference to Ted Bundy at the end, too.You went another way, partner.That must have stung.’

‘Glad someone caught that,’ Ella said. Try as she might, nothing got past Luca over here.

‘Death penalty though. Tough one.’

‘Yeah. Still not sure how I feel on that front.’

‘I wouldn’t worry,’ Luca said. ‘First off, it’s not your responsibility to save him from death.’

‘It’s not?’

‘No, it’s his responsibility to not go around killing women. Secondly, executions take twenty years to come to fruition. Creed’ll probably die of old age before the needle gets him.’

Ella conceded the point. It was true. The road to the lethal injection chamber was a long one. ‘The last mile,’ she said.

‘Sometimes the green mile seems so long.’ Luca put on his best Tom Hanks voice, then ditched it when he realized it wasn’t very good. ‘Oh, and you need to answer your phone. I texted you last night. Twice.’

‘A double-text? Have you no shame?’

'None. For all I know, you could have died.'

Ella smirked. This new life with Luca was strange, uncharted territory. But the good strange, like finding an extra clip when you were down to your last bullet. A few months back, her ex Ben had popped the living arrangement question, but Ella had shut it down pretty quickly. Not that Ben wasn’t a catch, but with him it had been all ‘when are you coming home’ and ‘can't you take a desk job?’ The guy tried his best to understand, but he couldnever figure out why she'd choose chasing monsters over a white picket fence.

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