Page 6 of Girl, Fractured

Ella winced.‘That’s the one thing I don’t want to become.’

‘There’s your answer.Anyway, why are you really here?’

She picked up her tea.Ripley had applied her signature amount of milk – barely any.The steam alone burned her face.‘I just wanted to use your pool.’

‘Did you bring a towel?’

‘No.’

‘So stop lying and tell me why you really came.’

Ella took a sip of her tea and scalded her tongue in the process.‘Two reasons.Number one, I wanted to see how you were holding up after Ohio.’

‘Better than ever.’

‘Are you sure?It was your first case in months and you wrestled a killer off a sixty foot beam.’

Max had given up on Ella’s sneakers now and had crawled over to his grandma.Ripley plucked him off the floor and sat him on her knees.‘Heights are only a problem if you fall off.How areyouholding up?’

‘No worse than usual.Luca called me Friday night.He mentioned something.’

Ripley bounced Max on his knee but his expression turned to one of terror.He looked at Ripley and gave her a hearty, ‘No.’

‘Someone’s getting tired,’ Ripley said.‘Might be time for a nap.What did Luca say?’

‘He reminded me that a few months ago, I’d lost two things at the same time.My cell phone and my hairbrush.’

‘‘Lost them both?At once?’Ripley stopped bouncing Max, who was now rubbing his eyes with tiny fists.

‘Yeah.Luca and I tore through HQ looking for them, but there are only about three places in HQ I actually go.It wasn’t in any of them.’

‘Youforgot you lost something?’

‘Crazy, isn’t it?I’ve been using my work cell for so long I forgot I had a personal one.You don’t realize something’s gone if you never use it.’

‘I don’t mean to sound like Captain Obvious, but did you try your apartment?’

‘Of course I tried my apartment.My cell and hairbrush never leave my bag.’

‘Your personal cell, you said?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well, it explains why you never texted me back a few weeks ago.You need to consult that perfect memory of yours.You’re quick enough to tell me about obscure murder cases from a hundred years ago but can’t recall where you might have dropped your phone?’

‘My memory isn’t Google.I can’t type in ‘lost phone’ and get a date and time.I have to lodge something in my long-term memory bank for it to stay forever.’It was a misconception Ella had corrected countless times over the years.She remembered details and faces.Not timestamps.

‘Right, so someone swiped it from your bag?Is that what you’re saying?’

‘I’m not sure, but I can’t see it being anything else.But if this killer has my cell, it means they’ve got endless info on me.Texts, photos, search history, everything.’

‘You didn’t have a passcode?’

‘Of course, but any twelve-year-old with an internet connection can bypass that.’

‘True.Novel idea, but have you tried calling it?Or tracing it?’

‘Both.It’s turned off, but it doesn’t mean the killer can’t extract all the data from it.Just plug it into a computer, download the right software and boom.Instant access.’

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