Page 65 of Girl, Sought

‘What am I supposed to do? Some of us can’t just switch off and pretend there isn’t a dead man with angel wings in the corner.’ Her voice drew more attention than she intended. A few sets of eyeballs turned her way.

‘There’s nothing I can do about that. Even if we did everything right, this might still have happened. You’re doing that thing where you think you can save everybody.’

Ella's fists clenched at her sides. It was an effort not to start swinging. ‘You saying I can't handle this?’

'I'm saying no one could!' Luca cast a meaningful glance at what was left of Joseph Carpenter. 'We're not magic. Maybe you ought to step back before you drown because I know what you're like when you're frustrated.'

‘Know what I’m like?Seriously?’

Luca looked like he wanted to argue. Like keeping her sane was an oath he'd sworn in blood. But he also knew her tells better than anyone, and he clearly knew when she'd hit that brick wall of pure stubborn that no amount of reasonable discourse could chip.

He exhaled slow through his nose. Giving ground but not surrendering. Not yet. ‘Just remember to come up for air sometimes. I'm out here with a life preserver when you need it. Why don’t you head back?’

‘Head back? Where? Home?’

Luca froze. ‘Do you want to head home?’

Ella felt Luca's words like a slap. Head back? Leave the scene before they'd even bagged the body? The suggestion turned her blood to lava. Maybe this was just his version of letting her down easy. Theit's not you, it's meof crime scene protocol.

‘You saying that I should just, what, take a little breather while you handle thebig boy stuff?’

Luca's jaw worked like he was physically chewing over each word before letting it escape. 'That's not - Jesus, Ell. I meant to head back to the station. Talk to Thorne, tell him he's officially off the hook for this one.'

‘No, you're right. Maybe I should just head back to D.C. Since I'm obviously getting in your way.’

‘That's not what I-’

'Because clearly, I'm just getting in your way. Just another jealous senior agent who can't let the rookie spread his wings.'

Every face in the room turned her way. The anger in her veins downshifted to a low simmer, but embarrassment rushed in to fill the gap.

‘Great choice of words, Ell.’

She turned toward the stairs, ignoring the looks from the forensics team. ‘You know what? You're right. I'll go tell Thorne he's innocent. You handle things here. Since you've got it all figured out.’

‘Ella, wait-’

He said something else, but the blood in her ears drowned it out.

The worst part about all this is that Luca was probably right. About Thorne, about her needing air, about all of it. But right now, that just made it worse.

Not because she didn’t want him to be right. Hell, she didn’t care ifshewas right. She just wanted someone to be wrong with her, wanted someone to share the darkness instead of dragging her into the light.

She hit the front door at full steam and let the December night swallow her whole. Let Luca have his scene. Let him play senior agent for a while.

She had her own theory to chase.

Human collectibles.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

The precinct ran on skeleton crew this late. Most of the desk jockeys had packed it in hours ago, and now Ella could hear the janitor’s cart squeaking somewhere in the maze of corridors. But otherwise, she just sat alone with her thoughts, and they weren’t good company tonight.

Her office felt too small. The walls pressed in tight while her brain spun disaster scenarios about what their killer might be planning next. Three bodies in three days. Each one staged differently. Each one missing something precious from their collection.

She’d called Edis and told him how everything had devolved, and he’d sighed in that defeated way that hurt her more than harsh words ever could. Now, her cell phone lay dark and silent on the desk. No texts. No missed calls. No indication that Luca gave a damn where she was or what she was doing. Not that she blamed him. She'd acted like a first-class bitch back at Carpenter's house, and she’d let her frustration poison what should have been a professional disagreement.

A sharp knock startled her out of her head. She looked up as Reeves poked his skull into the room. His hangdog face was set to 'sympathetic with a chance of pity'.

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