Page 69 of Girl, Unseen

A sudden cold niggled at every nerve ending. She felt Luca tense behind her. Jesus Christ, what had she done? One careless comment and she'd painted a target on her partner’s back. Eight armed cultists who now knew exactly who had infiltrated their ranks. Every serial killer course at Quantico, and she'd just broken the most basic rule: never give the target leverage.

‘Quite the performance.’ Ezra’s smile widened. ‘Though your New York accent needs work.’

Too late now. The more she dwelled on it, the more upset Luca would get. And if Ezra was her killer, then word of Luca’s infiltration might never reach the others.

‘We're not here to discuss accents.’ Ella pulled out her notebook. Old school, but suspects tended to talk more when they thought you were writing things down. ‘We're here to discuss three murders.’

‘Then you're wasting your time.’

‘Let's talk about this morning. What were you doing at a crash site?’

‘Because, genius, I got a message telling me to check on Tessa.’

‘A message? What kind of message?’

‘That note your detective found. The one with Tessa's name and the symbols.’ He returned to his bench. ‘It's not mine. Someone left it for me.’

Ella could feel the web of lies beginning to weave itself. Excuses on top of coincidences. She had Ezra on the gallows, and all she had to do was keep feeding him rope.

‘Who left it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Someone from your cult?’

‘The Order isn’t a cult. And yes. After everyone left.’

‘Explain.’

Peterson sighed like a teacher dealing with slow students. ‘I was cleaning up. Found a piece of paper on the floor. Tessa's name, some symbols I didn't recognize.’

‘And you thought what? Someone was sending you a cosmic telegram?’

‘One of our more... gifted members sometimes receives messages.’

Ella couldn't help it. She laughed. ‘What, your cult members are psychic now?’

‘One of them is.’

The words dropped between them like stones into water. Ella felt Luca shift behind her – probably fighting the urge to call bullcrap out loud. She couldn't blame him. Years of studying killers had taught her that they came in two flavors: those who believed their own delusions and those who used other people's beliefs against them. She wasn't sure which category Ezra fell into yet.

‘Right. And I'm the Pope's mistress.’ She planted her elbows on her knees and leaned closer to the bars. ‘Let's pretend for a second that I believe this garbage. How’d you know where Tessa Webster was this morning?’

'Because I work at Cloud Nine. It's my job to know. We were monitoring Tessa's whereabouts all day yesterday. We even reported her missing sometime around three o'clock.'

‘Seems a mighty coincidence, don’t you think?’

‘No. Our ADS-B system showed Tessa's transponder had gone dark over Storm King yesterday. The signal came back briefly around dawn today – probably when the wreckage shifted. By the time I got there, hikers had already found her.’

Ella watched his face for tells. Most killers loved this part - explaining their brilliance, revealing how they'd orchestrated everything. But Ezra just looked tired. Like a man who'd seen something he wished he hadn't.

‘ADS-B?’

‘Automatic Dependent Surveillance-Broadcast. All aircraft transmit location data.’ He spoke like he was explaining physics to a child. ‘Even recreational balloons carry transponders now. When they lose signal, it usually means they're below radar coverage or...’

‘Or they've crashed.’

‘Yes.’

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