Page 3 of Girl, Unseen

But before Ella could elaborate, or field the inevitable follow-up questions, a woman in a sleek pantsuit and severe bun materialized at the edge of the stage. The dean, or some other academic bigwig, come to usher Ella off before she could corrupt any more young minds with her tales of moral ambiguity.

‘Well, that's all the time we have for today,’ the woman chirped. ‘Let's give Agent Dark a big round of applause.’

The audience dutifully clapped with a few enthusiastic whoops and whistles thrown in there for good measure. Ella sketched a half-bow, happy that she’d done her part, planted the seeds of interest in a fewpromising recruits. Ella reached the lecturer’s lounge where she made a beeline for her partner who was leaning casually against a wall.

‘Always leave them wanting more, Ell,’ he said.

Ella shrugged off her blazer and draped it over one arm. The backstage area had a lot more exposed pipes than Ella expected from a top university, but that was always the case with establishments like this. Show the beauty, hide the grisly stuff beneath the surface.

‘What’d you think? I didn’t bore them to death, did I?’

‘I saw three people checking their phones, but that was it.’

‘That’s not bad. One guy fell asleep too.’

Luca pushed off the wall with a wince. Bandages peeked out from below the sleeves of his jacket. Third-degree burns, courtesy of the same monster that had mapped Ella’s legs with blisters. Short of a miracle, Luca’s burns would be a companion for the rest of his days – something that Luca had avoided addressing since it happened. She and him had both been excused from duty to heal, so he’d accompanied her to New York.

‘You did good, seriously. But if you held a gun to my head…’

‘Don’t hold back, Hawkins.’

‘You went overkill on that section about… overkill.’

‘I did?’

Ella had discredited the common myth that overkill suggested a personal connection between killer and victim. It was one of those falsehoods that had gained so much traction it was now difficult to debunk it, like how apparently liars never looked you in the eye. She hadn’t realized she’d gone off on a tangent.

‘A little bit.’

‘Anything else?’

Luca made a show of pondering. He tapped his chin and said, ‘Maybe next time liven it up a little. Throw in a few musical numbers. Or a magic trick.’

Ella checked her cell. Just after six PM. ‘I know a good magic trick. Making dinner disappear. What do you think about that?’

Luca clutched at his chest in mock horror. ‘This is New York City. Have you seen the prices here?’

‘I guess I’m buying.’

‘Thank God.’

A throat cleared behind them. Ella turned to find a woman hovering at the edge of their bubble of privacy. She was reed-thin with mousy brown hair down to her chin, wire-rimmed glasses perched on a narrownose. Everything about her screamedacademia, from her sensible shoes to the lanyard around her neck.

‘Excuse me, agents? Could I borrow you for a moment?’

‘Of course. Is everything okay?’

The woman twisted her hands together. A nervous tic, Ella noted. ‘It's one of our professors. Dr. Thornton. He's... missing.’

CHAPTER TWO

Room 305 of the Social Sciences building felt more like an interrogation box than a faculty office. There was a single table perched oddly in the center of the room and the Venetian blinds were in need of a good dusting. Ella leaned forward, keeping her posture open, non-threatening.

She'd grabbed the chair behind the desk while Luca leaned against a filing cabinet. Missing persons weren't their usual gig, but something in Whitman's eyes had triggered Ella's radar. Twenty years of studying human behavior had taught her one thing: desperate people didn't usually fake it this well.

‘Why don't we start from the beginning, Miss...?’

‘Westbrook. Olivia Westbrook.’ The woman's voice quavered, but she seemed to take comfort in the familiar ritual of introductions. ‘I teach in the geology department, alongside Marcus... Dr. Thornton.’

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