Page 13 of Girl, Accused

‘What about her new partner? Hawkins?’

‘He’s on leave. An investigation is pending due to his handling of a suspect.’

‘Is that the real reason?’

‘No. The real reason is that he’s not you. You know to pull Ella back when she gets too close to the edge.’

‘Yeah, well, maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe I enabled her worst instincts. Did Beaver ever think of that?’

‘I don’t know,’ Edis said, ‘but I do know that I’m desperate.’

Memories flickered through Ripley’s mind like crime scene photos: Ella's face lighting up when she spotted a pattern nobody else could see, the way she could reconstruct a killer's psychology from the smallest details, that uncanny ability to think three steps ahead of the monsters they hunted. Those weren't instincts you enabled. They were gifts you either used or wasted.

‘I’m confused here, Will. What exactly do you want?’

‘You want to make sure your family’s safe, don’t you?’

Ripley sat ramrod straight. ‘Don’t even go there. Catching this hair-sewing freak and coming back to the Bureau are two different things. I don’t need an employment contract to track this killer down.’

‘What about our tools? Our resources?’

She tapped her temple. ‘It’s all up here.’

‘And what happens when you find him?’

‘Take a guess. Besides, this case with Dark is with Washington PD, not you.’

'With your footage and Ella's alibi, I can get jurisdiction. It'll take a few days, but I can make it happen. In the meantime, I've got another situation that's spiraling. Two bodies in Ohio in three days, each branded with a letter on their forehead.

Ripley's eyebrows lifted. 'Branding? What is this, the 1800s?'

'It gets worse. The local PD is out of their depth, media's starting to circle, and my profilers are spread out across the country or suspended.' Edis pushed a hand through what remained of his hair. 'So I need someone who understands this kind of pathology.’

Mia stared at the Newton's Cradle on Edis's desk, watching silver balls rise and fall with mechanical certainty. If only life's decisions came with such predictable outcomes.

Everything she'd worked for. The peace, the quiet, the simple joy of watching her grandson discover the world one toddling step at a time - now balanced against the chaos unfolding in front of her.

‘Is that all you want? Someone to check this case out?’

‘No. I want someone to keep an eye on Dark. Someone who knows the human mind. Someone who can prove that her psyche eval isn’t accurate. That I’m not the biggest idiot in the FBI for trusting my gut over a psychiatrist.’

What did Mia have planned for next week anyway? A few bushes needed pruning. The deck could use another coat of varnish. Maybe lunch with Sandra if her arthritis wasn't acting up. That was the beauty of retirement. Every day stretched out like blank paper, waiting to be filled with whatever mundane pleasures she chose.

But now that road had forked. Down one path lay her garden and her peaceful afternoons and trips to the park with Baby Max.

But down the other road was a killer who’d made things personal. There was a monster on her doorstep. One that had already killed two people, that had Ella locked in a glass box, that thought it could threaten Mia's family with impunity. One that needed to be put down before it could hurt anyone else.

Damn it, she thought.Just damn it all to hell.

Because she knew she'd already made her decision. Had probably made it the moment she saw that figure on her security footage. The garden would keep. Sandra's arthritis wasn't going anywhere.

‘Will, if I give you a hand, I have some demands.’

The director’s shoulders dropped an inch, like Atlas finally getting a break from holding up the sky. The permanent crease between his eyebrows softened.

‘Anything.’

‘Get this case with Ella under federal jurisdiction, fast.’

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