Page 51 of Girl, Empty
Ella was quick to surrender.The problem with working in a field you were passionate about was that personal curiosity sometimes interfered with professional limitations, and curiosity usually won.
‘Alright, but we go careful.No forced entries.’
‘Relax.The cleaner said we could be in the house.She didn’t specify which room.’
They slipped back out into the hallway.A vacuum whirred to life upstairs.Perfect cover to go snooping.Ripley pointed to the first door with a nod of her head.She opened it and a sterile, gleaming white kitchen greeted them in return.
‘Next,’ Ella said.She checked the door opposite the kitchen.A slow turn of the knob and an office appeared.The place was dominated by a chrome desk with a desktop computer perched atop.‘He’s only got one monitor.’
‘Most people only have one monitor.’
Ella’s point of reference for computer nerds was Roadrunner back at HQ.She’d never seen him with any less than three screens, and he always said the more screens, the more the man.‘Not savant hackers.’
‘We don’t know anything about savant hackers.That’s our whole problem.Come on, next room.’
Beside the office was a door that led to a home gym.There was a treadmill in the corner, a yoga mat, and a weight rack, none of which looked like they'd ever been touched.It was the kind of gym someone built just to say they had a home gym.No one had ever sweat in here.
They were running out of doors.Only one remained at the far end of the hall, and Ella wasn’t about to go upstairs in case the cleaner tipped Sinclair off that they were snooping.Ella tried the handle to the final door, but it was locked.Ripley tried next, then she shot Ella a look with her eyebrows raised.
‘We’re not breaking it down,’ Ella whispered.
‘Who said anything about breaking it down?’
‘Your face did.’
Ripley stuck her pinkie finger in the keyhole, like that might somehow unlock it.‘It’s one of those antique locks.’
‘Not exactly high-tech.’
Ripley grinned.‘You still do that trick?’
‘Trick?I can’t handle any more magic, Mia.Not today.’
‘You know the one I mean.With the string.’
‘Ugh.Yes, but we…’ Ella peered over at the door, just in case Sinclair had miraculously appeared.‘We can’t go in.What if there’s nothing inside?’
‘There is.I can tell.’Ripley began to jiggle the knob aggressively, then started ramming her shoulder against the doorframe.
‘Mia, stop!’Ella hissed.‘You’re going to leave marks!What the hell are you doing?’
‘A locked door means there’s something inside worth hiding.Come in.We’ll be in and out in a few seconds.’
Ella already knew she couldn’t win this argument, but it was oddly refreshing to see Ripley being so cavalier.There was once a time when she’d scold Ella for saying the wrong thing to an interviewee, now she was violating locked doors on the off-chance there might be some evidence inside.
‘Fine.Better a picked lock than a splintered door.You really want me to do this?’
‘Dark, if Sinclair doesn’t have an alibi, we’re going to have to devour this place anyway.I’m just saving us some time.’
Ella exhaled through her nose and reached into her pocket.Her keys jangled as she pulled them out.Attached was coiled, four-inch piece of thin, wound metal.A high-E guitar string.The right type of guitar string had tiny ridges spiraling down the metal, and with the right angle, those ridges could catch the pins inside an old tumbler lock the same way a key's teeth would.She'd worked at a key cutter's after leaving school, and it had been the best education of her life.
‘Alright.But we’re in and out in ten seconds, okay?’
‘Roger.’
‘Keep an eye out.’
Ella bent the string at a ninety-degree angle and slid it into the keyhole.The metal scraped against the pins inside.She applied gentle upward pressure while twisting and felt for that sweet spot where the ridges would catch.The first pin clicked into place.Then the second.Old locks like these usually had five pins.For a supposed security enthusiast, Sinclair wasn't living up to his reputation.
