Page 26 of Girl, Undone
The client tried to respond, but his eyelids fluttered closed, his head nodding forward as consciousness slipped away.
Now he had the client at his mercy.He observed the man’s limp form, then crossed the room and placed his hands on his now-former client’s shoulders.Now, trapped in a chemical-induced stupor, the poor man was oblivious to the predator that loomed over him.
‘There’s no greater illusion than fear, Mr.Barker, and tonight we’re going to embark on a journey of discovery together.’
The client, now lost in the abyss of unconsciousness, remained oblivious.As the therapist restrained the lifeless man’s hands, he said, ‘Come with me and face the pit one more time.’
Barker would wake in three hours.Maybe four.
And when he did, he'd be twelve years old again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
10 PM at the precinct, and Ella had nothing to hold Ken Myers with.Officers had gone through his online records and found no further correspondence with Julia Dawson beyond what Ken had admitted.The only connection between them was that they met up three weeks before Julia was murdered, which was such a flimsy connection that it didn’t even pass as circumstantial evidence.
The rats, too, but another store employee had verified Ken’s story about someone else purchasing all four rats together.Ken Myers also had an alibi for last night and this morning, which Ripley was currently confirming.
Ella thought about Austin Creed.She wondered whether to contact Agent Dever and see if he'd had any luck tracking down the courtroom footage, but even if he had, he wouldn't share it with her, and that would just torment her further.When Dever and his team looked through it, what would they even be looking for?The killer could be right there on screen, and they wouldn't know it, but for some reason, they were dead set on keeping her miles away from the investigation.
And what about Creed moving prisons?She was convinced it was a terrible idea, and not just because the thought of him being closer to her made her skin itch.
‘Myers is innocent,’ a voice said.Ripley came into existence at the door, and her sudden appearance made Ella jump.
‘Confirmed?’
‘He was at a Packers game until 11 PM last night.Then there’s footage on his doorbell cam of him getting home about 2 AM and not leaving until this afternoon.He’s not our guy.’
‘Dammit to hell.’
‘Yup.So we need to focus on the rat buyer or pray for a miracle.’
‘The second one seems like the most viable option.’Ella stared at the evidence board on the wall – and all of it led nowhere.The cabin, Rose Murphy, Jason White, Ken Myers.‘We could track down all of her classmates.Maybe it’s not Julia’s interest in medieval history they’re focusing on.Maybe it’s their own.’
‘We still don’t know where she was sneaking off to twice a week either.’
‘Yeah.’
Ripley checked her watch.‘Come on.It’s getting late.You don’t want to fall asleep here because you’ll be a block of ice by morning.Let’s head back.’
'I just need another hour.I need to find something or I won’t sleep.'
'You said that two hours ago, too.'Ripley moved toward the door, paused.'Look, I get it.You want to catch this guy.So do I.But you're running on fumes, and exhausted detectives make mistakes.We miss things.And this killer, whoever they are, isn’t making mistakes.So we can't either.'
Ella stared at the evidence board.Julia's face looked back at her.Frozen at thirty-eight, smiling in a photo that was probably taken months before she died.Before someone decided her life was worth less than his own perverse satisfaction.
‘One hour.’
‘No hours.Do you want me to drag you out of here myself?’
‘Alright, alright.I’m coming.But tomorrow, we findsomething.We have to.’
***
Ella wasn’t sure where sleep ended and wakefulness began.Sleep had been a fleeting luxury, snatched in brief, restless intervals.The clock on her bedside table showed it was already past seven AM and that meant the precinct beckoned her.
In the bathroom mirror, her reflection looked about as good as she felt.Dark circles under her eyes.Hair tangled.She ran a brush through it, watched the brown strands fall back into place.One shower later, even more hair came out.
She thought about yesterday.Ken Myers and his airtight alibi.The rats purchased by someone whose face nobody could remember.Julia Dawson's laptop with a few messaging apps and an essay about Alexander the Great.They’d spent twelve hours chasing leads that went nowhere, and she’d be damned if today went the same way.
