Page 11 of Girl, Accused

Mia Ripley sat in what had once been her usual chair, wondering how the hell she'd ended up back here after swearing on her grandson's first tooth that she was done with this place. The groove of her backside was still indented into the chair, a groove that had been forged over verbal sparring matches with Edis over cases and protocol violations. Now, it just reminded her that some promises were made to be broken.

‘You look good,’ Edis said, settling behind his fortress of a desk. ‘Retirement suits you.’

‘Thanks. I love what you haven’t done with the place.’ Mia studied the wall behind Edis, where photographs of him with three different presidents formed a timeline of political ass-kissing. ‘Though right now I'd rather be pulling weeds than sitting in this chair again.’

The truth was more complicated. Part of her - the part that still woke up at 3AM reaching for a badge that wasn't there anymore - had missed certain things about this place. The same way you might miss a chronic tooth infection. Grateful it's gone, but somehow incomplete without the familiar pain.

But at the same time, another part wanted to throw Edis's pretentious Newton's Cradle through his equally pretentious window for dragging her back into this circus.

Ella Dark and her talent for finding trouble. Or maybe trouble's talent for finding her. Stupid Ella and her perfect memory. If that girlhad just learned to forget a few things, maybe she wouldn't be in this mess. But no, Little Miss Memory had to make herself a target one more time.

And now Mia's own family was in the crosshairs. That footage of the figure stalking up her driveway, leaving that little present on her doorstep - it didn't take a profiler to see the message there.I can get to you. I can get to the people you love. No one is safe.

‘I really didn’t want to call you,’ Edis said.

‘So why did you?’

‘You’re smart enough to work that out.’

‘Yeah, and you’re smart enough to know that I want to hear it from you. Since when we do lock up our own agents based on circumstantial evidence?’

‘When my back is to the wall. This isn’t our investigation. It’s Washington PD’s.’

‘Jesus, Will. And a part of you didn’t think it was a stretch to immediately suspect Dark of murder?’

Edis pushed back what little remained of his hair. 'Yes, I did.'

‘I taught that girl everything she knows about profiling, and the first thing you learn is that serial killers don't leave their own hair at crime scenes.’

‘We had to consider all possibilities.’

‘No, you had to consider the obvious one: someone's trying to destroy her. And they're using my house to do it, which means my family's involved now.’

‘You know it's more complicated than that.’

‘Is it?’

Edis pinched the bridge of his nose, then reached into his drawer. He pulled out a file and slid it across the desk. Ripley recognized the layout right away.

‘A psyche report. Why do I want this?’

‘Just look.’

Ripley reluctantly snatched the file and scanned the first page.

PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION REPORT.

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION.

BEHAVIORAL ANALYSIS UNIT.

SUBJECT: DARK, Ella M.

BADGE NO: #4472.

EVALUATOR: Dr. Anthony Beaver, PhD.

PURPOSE OF EVALUATION: Standard psychological assessment as part of Agent Dark's medical examination following the October 15 incident. Per Bureau protocol, psychological screening is required when an agent experiences significant physical trauma requiring hospitalization.

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