Page 53 of Girl, Sought

And then she heard a shuffle, like a suit jacket being dragged across the floor.

Hiding spot? Ambush waiting to happen?

Ella's finger traced her trigger guard as she considered her options. Thorne could be ready to add an FBI agent to his gallery, or this could be another misdirection on his part. Or it could be nothing.

Standard procedure said wait for backup. But standard procedure had never met a man who dressed dead women as dolls and nailed men to walls.

Ella's heart rate picked up tempo. If this gap was an invitation, sometimes you had to walk into the trap to spring it. Thorne's lead was growing with each wasted breath, and if she hesitated now, he might disappear.

And that wasn't a risk she was willing to take.

‘Gabriel Thorne, FBI!’ she yelled as she edged closer. With her free hand, she eased the door up, wincing as it rattled on its track.

The chemical stench hit her before anything else. Her brain parsed the components even as her nose tried to reject them: kerosene, maybe something stronger.

Shapes resolved out of the gloom, lit by the thin slash of outside light. Barrels, stacked haphazardly. The closest one bore a label that made her rethink any abrupt strategy that had come to mind: a skull and crossbones above blocky text -METHYLATED SPIRITS - HIGHLY FLAMMABLE - CLASS 3 HAZARDOUS MATERIAL.

And there, standing between the barrels: Gabriel Thorne. The corporate mask had melted away now and was replaced by something that belonged in a prison's maximum security wing. One of the drum lids lay discarded at his feet, and the raw chemical smell made Ella's eyes water.

Ella trained her Glock on his shoulder. ‘Step out of the unit, Thorne.’

‘Careful with that gun. Sparks and vapor don’t mix.’

Ella's weapon stayed trained on his center mass, but her tactical mind was already gaming out scenarios. One spark in here and the resulting explosion could take them both out.

‘I’m fine out here,’ she lied. ‘It’s not me they’ll be scraping off the ceiling.’

Thorne slowly reached into his top pocket. Ella’s finger itched on the trigger – but then he pulled out a lighter and a packet of cigarettes.

‘Are you insane?

‘Nope, but I’m not going to jail. You smoke?’ Thorne threw a cigarette in his mouth then threw the packet aside. Then the lighter flared. Ella took two steps back on instinct.

‘The hell are you doing?’

Thorne took a heavy drag, then flicked ash into the open barrel. Smoke curled from his nostrils. ‘You know, I never thought you’d find my… things. I really thought I was careful. ’

Was this it? A confession?

‘You can tell us everything at the station, far away from barrels of kerosene, yes?’

'Not happening. I've been locked away before, and I'm not going back, so this is it…'

'Tell me about Eleanor,' Ella said. Keep him talking. The longer they talk, the less likely they are to do something stupid. 'About Alfred.'

‘I already told you. But you know what's funny? I’ve been playing it straight for a year now. No thefts. Nothing that would get me locked up again.’

Ella lowered her gun a fraction. His words didn't match her profile, because if Thorne was her unsub, he'd be gloating now. He'd be explaining his grand design. Instead, he was talking about petty crime. The disconnect niggled at Ella's brain.

'The masks in your office. The trinkets.’

‘Long story, but here we are anyway.’

The chemicals were making Ella's head spin. Something wasn't adding up. The man before her was scared and desperate, but not with the particular flavor of desperation she'd expected. This wasn't the calculated endgame of a serial killer. This was the panic of a small-time crook about to lose everything.

But before she could parse it further, movement flickered in her peripheral vision. The back door of the unit burst open with a metallic shriek.

Luca barreled through in a blur of momentum and clenched fists. His knuckles cracked across Thorne's jaw in a textbook haymaker and snapped Thorne’s man's head back in a glorious arc. The cigarette went flying. Thorne stumbled towards the door, away from the barrels. Ella pounced on him and dragged him out of the unit and down to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

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