Page 14 of Girl, Accused

‘I will.’

‘Find a place for my son’s family to stay safe in. Somewhere local.’

Edis nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘I’m not talking some cubicle safe house. I mean somewhere proper. Three-bed, two-bath, swimming pool, sauna, garden like a football field, got it? Put that property portfolio of yours to use, yes?’

He pursed his lips in confidence. Ripley used to think that Edis knew more about property than he did about law enforcement. ‘I can get them a wing in the White House if you like.’

'Just get them somewhere and keep it on the down low. Same goes for anyone who knows Ella. We probably can't put them all into hiding, but we should get officers on their doorsteps, at least for a couple of weeks.'

‘Can do.’

‘I don’t want a contract. No ties. Consultant only.’

‘Of course. I’ll give you whatever you want. $1200 a day whenever you’re on the job.’

‘I don’t need money. Take that $1200 a day and put it towards paying officers to keep these people safe. Just cover my expenses. I’m a cheap date.’

‘First time I’ve heard you say that.’

Some people would consider her a fool for turning down six grand a week, but getting paid for this was just another incentive that she didn’t want. ‘I’m serious. Finally, I don’t keep anything from Dark, okay? I’m not going to two-face this. I’m too old for that.’

Edis clasped his hands together, and for a moment Ripley thought that he might be praying.

‘I owe you. Massively. I’ll work on getting this case under our roof, and until then…’ Edis trailed off as his cell started ringing on his desk. He furtively glanced at the number. ‘Bear with me.’

Mia watched Edis take the call as she churned over what she'd just committed to. Had she done the right thing? Five months ago, she'd walked away from all this without a backward glance. Out of sight, out of mind - that had been the plan. But this job had a gravity all its own, and once you got caught in its orbit, escape velocity became a theoretical concept at best.

She'd thought five months and a hundred miles would be enough distance, but here she was, getting pulled back in like an addict who'd convinced herself that one more hit couldn't hurt. Even sitting in this old chair had fired up her muscle memory, and despite all her promises to herself about staying retired, some part of Mia had never really clocked out.

Through her reverie, she caught fragments of Edis's conversation. Police reports, crime scene photos, a chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘send it all across.’ Ripley’s brain automatically cataloged the details even as she triedto convince herself she was just a concerned friend, not an agent anymore.

‘Sorry for the delay. I’m sending someone right now,’ Edis said into the phone. His free hand scribbled something on a notepad, then he hung up and turned to Ripley. Her stomach did that familiar flip. The one that meant somewhere, in some quiet corner of America, death was summoning her again.

‘There’s a flight to Ohio in an hour,’ Edis said.

Here we go, Mia thought.Back down the rabbit hole.

But maybe that's where she belonged all along.

CHAPTER SIX

Ghosts had a way of finding you in places like this. They nested in the corners of conference rooms, lurked behind water coolers, whispered from air vents. Ella knew every ghost in the Hoover Building by name, but this new ghost was different. This one walked and talked and looked exactly like Mia Ripley.

Her old partner was here. Not just existing in the same reality, buthere, in this same building, sitting just a few offices away. Despite having retired five months ago, the old dog had still crept out of the woodwork to throw Ella a bone. It was pure Ripley, and Ella was thankful for every scrap she’d thrown her.

And now what? Ella looked at the facts, as minimal as they were. Julianne Cooper and Jenna Bradbury had both been killed sometime in the past few weeks, and this victimology confirmed that the killer had an intimate knowledge of Ella’s personal life. This perp could have found this information based on Ella’s old address alone, but her address (neither former nor current) wasn’t mentioned in any records – which was standard procedure for federal agents – meaning the killer unearthed this information elsewhere.

How many people knew where she lived? She could count them on one hand. Uncovering Julianne and Jenna’s identities came a few steps after finding her address, but Ella knew in her bones that this had nothing to do with real estate connections. Somebody wanted the closest people to her dead.

Who else might be in the crosshairs? How far into her social circle would this killer reach? After all, Julianne Cooper had barely been an acquaintance. If that qualified as a connection, anyone who'd ever crossed her path could be next.

Ella glanced around and noticed things she'd been too wired to see during her overnight incarceration: a coffee stain on the carpet that looked like Australia, water damage creeping down the wall behind the whiteboard, a dead fly trapped between the window panes. She’d suddenly become hyper-aware of her surroundings since laying eyes on Ripley ten minutes ago. Old habits dying hard, maybe, or musclememory kicking in at the sight of her former partner. The way your body remembers how to ride a bike, her mind remembered how to work with Ripley. How to see what Ripley would see, notice what Ripley would notice.

And somewhere beyond these windows was Luca. She had a mental image of him standing there, helpless, while cops rifled through their drawers and closets. It made her chest ache. She needed to see him, to explain everything, to feel his arms around her and hear him say that it wasn’t her fault that someone had targeted her social circle.

But a small voice whispered that maybe it was her fault. After all, she'd brought this darkness home with her, and she’d let it seep into their life together, the way it always seemed to do.

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