Page 43 of Girl, Fractured

Ella navigated around the markers and made her way out of the bulkhead door.She found Ripley standing at the back of the garden, just past the pond where Diana had taken her final swim.Ripley was staring out into cluster of trees beyond the fence.The storm had passed now.All that remained was the smell of rain.

‘You want to go somewhere less wet?’Ella asked.

Ripley turned and stared at the pond.‘What the hell is going on, Dark?This woman, Diana, was a cop, wasn’t she?Spent her life helping people, and this is how it ends.Headless in a koi pond.She was barely my age.’

When Ripley got introspective, it meant things had gone from bad to worse.She didn’t do soul-searching unless shit was hitting the fan sideways.Luckily, Ella knew exactly what gutter Ripley’s mind had gotten stuck in.She was seeing her own fate mirrored in that pool.

‘No, this isn’t how it ends for every retired cop.’

‘When we find this asshole, I’m going to kill him.’

Ella doubted Ripley was being literal, but she had to admit that she’d never seen her partner in this state before.It was rage-meets-introspection.Potentially a lethal cocktail.

‘We need to find him first.’

Ripley spun.‘I mean it, Dark.I’ll kill him.I’m talking bullet-in-the-head, unmarked-grave dead.Frank and Diana, they gave their lives to make the world a better place, and someone does this to them.It’s not right.’

‘No it’s not, but let’s look at this as a whole.The White Whale Club.We have a connection now.Two victims of that club are dead.The question is:why?’

‘No, the question iswho?I don’t care why they’re doing it.I just want their head on a stick.’

‘We need to track down all the members of this club, and anyone who knows they exist.’

‘It has to be someone within that group, Dark.Frank and Diana were both killed by…’ Ripley trailed off, probably unsure how to articulate it.

‘By the same M.O.s of the cases they were obsessed with.‘

‘Yeah.And what are the odds someoneoutsidetheir stupid little group would know about the cases they were obsessed with?Especially the little details.’

Ella thought back to the cufflink.There had been only one piece of solid evidence in the original Ferryman case.A silver cufflink, left behind at one of the victim’s houses.This unsub had gone to lengths to recreate the scene as accurately as possible.

She had a theory why, but she didn’t think now was the time to get into this killer’s psychological weeds.Ripley didn’t seem very responsive to behavioral analysis right now.

‘Let’s get to the motel, Dark.I need to sleep this off.’

‘Yeah.’Ella took one last look at Diana’s garden.‘We just need to get some cops outside Sarah Webb’s house.She’s a potential target.’

‘Same goes for Ramsey Cole.He’s not in the group, but he has links to Frank.’

‘I’ll speak to Bauer.You go and… do whatever you need to do.’

‘Find me when you’re done.I’ll be in the car.’

Two cold case investigators dead in twenty-four hours.Both murders had been reflections of the cases that haunted them.The pattern was clear now, but that clarity brought no comfort.

Tomorrow, Ella needed to dig deeper into the White Whale group, because somewhere in Palm Harbor right now, another member of that group was going about their evening, unaware that they might be living their final hours.

And Ella couldn’t help but wonder what unsolved horror from their past would provide the template for their death.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cheap motels occupied a liminal space in Ella’s mind.They were neither home nor fully alien, and the Paradise Inn in Palm Harbor was no exception.The place was a chain motel with pretensions of beachside charm despite being fifteen miles from any actual beach.But still, a bed was a bed, and Ella needed to reset her mental machinery before tackling whatever tomorrow would bring.

As she and Ripley navigated the hallways towards their rooms, Ella’s mind circled to everything and everyone.Frank Sullivan and Diana Jewell.Luca, hopefully sound asleep in his childhood bed, far away from any horrors.

And Ripley.Ella’s partner trailed behind her, and she hadn’t spoken since leaving Diana’s house, and that silence worried Ella more than any outburst could have.There was something uncharacteristically fragile in her movements.Ella wanted to ask her a few things, but there hadn’t been a suitable time.

‘This is me,’ Ripley said as they reached her door.Room 214, though the brass ‘1’ hung slightly askew.She fumbled with her key card, and on the third attempt, the panel flashed green.Ella watched as Ripley pushed the door open without entering.Something was definitely off.

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