Page 64 of Girl, Fractured

‘I’m sorry,’ Ripley said.

‘Don’t feel sorry for me.You know, some nights I would wake up and imagine a black candle burning in my bedroom.I’d see that night through my mom’s eyes, so I thought – what if Frank sawhisobsession right there in the flesh?So I made it real.’

Ripley’s phone vibrated against her hip.She pulled it out, keeping one eye on Nicholls as she checked the screen.There were two pictures attached.

The first was pile of papers on a brown desk.Ripley zoomed in and saw the nameMARLOWEbeside a case number.The second was of Ella’s irritatingly-smooth fingers holding a plastic bag full of white stones.

The same stones that had replaced Frank’s eyes.

She slid her cell across the table with the picture still loaded.Josiah leaned in for a closer look.‘You recognize these?’

Josiah hovered over the photo on Ripley’s phone.His eyes moved as if he were trapped between two opposing emotions, and neither was winning.A small crease formed between his brows.He touched the image on the screen once.Then he blinked and pulled his hand back.

‘Yes,’ Josiah said.

‘What are they?’

‘Bricks.Pebbles.’

‘My partner found them in your apartment.As well as a police report of the Jennifer Marlowe case, by the looks of it.’

For two seconds, his expression hovered in a realm that might have been fear.He clamped his lips together until the veins in his neck stood out.A wavering breath escaped his nose.Ripley couldn’t tell if he was angry, crushed, or carefully plotting some maneuver to keep one step ahead of her.

‘Both mine.’

Ripley took a moment to see this whole thing at a glance.First a confession, then evidence that confirmed the killer’s motive, then evidence tying Josiah Nicholls to Frank’s murder.They had him dead to rights.Ripley might as well escort Nicholls out of this room straight into the nearest supermax.

But Frank Sullivan was just one half of this puzzle.There was still the curious death of Diana Jewell to figure out.

‘What happened after Frank?’Ripley asked.

‘How do you mean?I went home.’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’She kept her tone level, though her mind spun with questions.She wanted him to name Diana Jewell on his own.

Josiah’s lips thinned, but he offered no reply.He had relaxed earlier when discussing Frank, almost as though he’d rehearsed that confession.Now, he appeared guarded.His gaze darted to the wall and then back to Ripley’s face.

‘Get a taste for killing, did you?’she continued.‘You got your revenge against the Bureau.Did it stop there?’

His hand shifted on the table as if he aimed to conceal a twitch of nerves.No name crossed his lips.Ripley concluded he either had no idea who she meant, or he was dancing around it on purpose.She straightened her shoulders.‘If you want to keep quiet, go right ahead.I’ll give you enough rope to hang yourself.Sooner or later, you’ll slip up.’

‘I’ve told you everything,’ Josiah said.

She had hoped he would ask a pointed question, something that would prove he knew about Diana Jewell.Instead, he looked blank.

‘All right,’ she said.‘You’ve had your chance.We’ll see what forensics digs up.Maybe physical evidence will explain what you won’t.’

And Ripley was up and out of the door.Not because she’d run out of questions, but because she needed time to think.Out in the corridor, Sheriff Bauer appeared clutching his cell.Given the grin on his face, he’d been watching the interrogation.

‘Ella just sent me the pictures from his apartment,’ Bauer said.‘We got him.’

They had everything they needed, but Ripley’s mind was elsewhere.

It was speculative, bordering on conspiracy, flying in the face of a direct confession and damning physical evidence.But Ripley couldn’t stop asking herself one question:

Why was Josiah Nicholls lying?

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

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