Page 52 of Girl, Sought

Thorne's shoulders slumped. The anger seemed to drain from him, then was replaced by resignation. ‘Alright, fine. You win. You want to talk at the station? Let’s do it.’

Thorne's sudden compliance lit up every warning sensor in Ella's brain. Serial killers were cowards at heart. All that power and control was just masking the scared little boy underneath. The way Thorne folded at the first sign of real confrontation fit the profile like a glove.

‘Our car is this way,’ Ella said.

‘Bear with me while I shut this place up. Can’t exactly leave Ming vases on display, can I?’

‘Go ahead.’

Thorne walked back into the storage unit, switched off the light and plunged the place into darkness. Ella’s hand tightened on her weapon, because something about this felt off. She felt like she was waiting for the moment of misdirection so that Thorne could try and flee.

Ella's eyes refused to adjust. It was that dangerous moment between light and shadow when anything could happen.

Then Thorne slammed the door shut behind him.

Son of a bitch.

‘Open up!’ Ella grabbed the handle and yanked, but the lock had already engaged. Cold steel bit into her palms as she fought against mechanisms designed to keep people exactly where they didn't want to be. ‘Thorne, don’t make this difficult!’

Humiliation burned like acid. She'd let Thorne lull her into complacency with that mild-mannered act. And now he was hiding, leaving her to impotently beat against a door that wouldn't budge.

No, not hiding. Because Ella could hear footsteps at the opposite end of the unit.

‘Hawkins, back door!’ she yelled.

Their boots hammered wet ground as they sprinted. The storage unit's corrugated sides blurred past, and they rounded the corner just in time to see Thorne’s weaselly figure disappearing between the next row of units.

Luca shouted, ‘Split up. Try and cut him off.’

‘Go.’

Ella went straight on while Luca went right. She mapped the facility’s layout in her head, and if Thorne was heading for the nearest exit, he'd take the path of least resistance. But if he was the killer she thought he was, he'd have this whole escape choreographed down to the last footstep.

Where would I run if I was Thorne?

Not toward the exits. Too obvious. He'd double back and try to lose them in the labyrinth of identical units.

Her boots found puddles in the afternoon gray. She strained her ears for footsteps, breathing, anything - but the maze of metal walls created weird acoustics, bouncing sounds until direction became meaningless. Somewhere in this labyrinth, a man who turned people into collectibles was running with the desperate energy of someone who'd just lost control of their narrative.

She stopped at a fork in the path. Left led toward the main gate, right deeper into the labyrinth. Ella chose right because killers were creatures of shadow. They didn't run toward light unless they had no choice.

The corridor narrowed, steel walls pressing in close enough to make her tactical brain itch. Bad place for a firefight. Worse place for an ambush. But Thorne wouldn't risk confrontation - not when he had his whole carefully curated life to protect.

Dead end.

A solid wall of storage units

‘Shit.’

The word came out as steam in the cold air. She couldn’t hear Luca’s footsteps anymore, so she could only pray he was having better luck than her.

Her pulse hammered against her throat as she spun around, ready to backtrack and try a different route.

But then – there.

Three units down. The door hung slightly open, maybe four inches of darkness visible beneath corrugated steel.

Just enough space for a desperate man to slip through.

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