Page 20 of Girl, Accused

‘Second victim just came in this morning,’ she said. ‘No photos yet.’

‘Still being processed, I'd imagine. They probably rushed just to get us this prelim.’

Ella scanned the details. ‘Dr. Evelyn Summers. Psychologist with a private practice. Same cause of death – slit throat. The mailman saw her body through the window.’

‘College professor and a psychologist. Both professionals, both in positions of authority, both killed in their own spaces. I love it when a pattern emerges.’

‘Yeah, but the victimology is all over the place. Two kills, two different genders. That’s rare.’

‘Without a sexual component, victim consistencies go out of the window. I’ll bet my pension that these vics aren’t surrogates. They pissed our killer off and now he’s getting his own back.’

Ella watched clouds roll past out of the window. Two hours and counting until they hit Ohio, and she had a lot to think about before she got there.

But before that, Ella wanted to probe a little.

‘Speaking of your pension, how’s that working out for you?’

Ripley's lips curved into something adjacent to a smile. ‘Best thing about being shot at for thirty years. That and healthcare. How else could I afford these reading glasses?’

‘How have things been since Martin?’

The name hung between them like a loaded gun. Martin had been Ripley's ex-lover, but he'd had some secrets of his own. Ripley drummed her fingers on the armrest and then twitched like a pianist who'd hit the wrong note.

‘You ever get blood under your fingernails, Dark?’

‘All the time.’

‘Hard to scrape off, isn’t it?’

Ella saw beyond the metaphor. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have…’

‘Gardeninghelps. Dig deep enough and you find all sorts of things. Worms, grubs, bones. The earth swallows up everything eventually.’

Ella recognized the door closing. Not slammed, but firmly shut nonetheless. Ripley had buried the memory just like they’d buried her ex.

‘And retirement? Really treating you that well?’

‘It’s… different. Some days I wake up wondering what state I’m in, then I remember the only thing waiting for me is my garden and Max's sensory classes.’

‘Max? Your grandson?’

‘Yup. Adorable little thing. Chubbiest legs you’ve ever seen. Cheeks like a hamster. No idea how something that cute is related to me.’ Ripley pulled out her phone and showed Ella her background. It was a smiling young boy holding a balloon in one hand and a toy dinosaur in the other. Ella might have made peace with her childless status, but she wasn’t immune to the ovary-twitching sight of a cute baby. Here was a reminder that life didn't just end. It also created tiny humans with toys and balloons clutched in pudgy fingers.

‘He’s a cutie. How old?’

‘Just turned one. He calls me Riprip.’

‘It suits you.’

‘Thanks. How have things been with that partner of yours? Hawkins, is it?’

‘Yeah, Luca. He’s not my partner in the field anymore. He’s my… partner.’

‘No kidding?’

‘No kidding. I know you shouldn’t, y’know…’

‘Shit where you eat.’

---