Page 27 of Girl, Undone
The coffee maker in the corner was one of those single-serve pod machines.She fumbled with it until it produced something that resembled coffee and drank it black.It was far from premium quality, but it was hot, and that was enough.Beside it sat her phone where she'd plugged it last night.There were no missed calls or messages, even from Luca.She guessed he was busy with his R-Team or whatever he called them.
She should call him and let him know that she was okay, that the case was moving slower than she’d hoped.Then again, they had a hard barrier between work and personal, so mentioning any case might be a breach of their agreement.She grabbed her phone, found his name.
Before she could fire off a message, someone knocked at her door.
The time on the screen read 7:37 AM, and that was much too early for house calls.She headed to the door and peered through the hole.Mia Ripley stood there, looking all geared up and ready to go.
‘Mia.You’re early.’
‘No, we’re late.’
‘We meet at eight.’
‘I mean, we’re late.The sheriff text me a few minutes ago.We’ve got another one.’
Ella’s heart plummeted.Two bodies, two days.‘Where?’
‘Coordinates again, and according to Bartram, this one is… different.’
A moment of reflection passed over her.She was no longer investigating an isolated homicide.Now she was dealing with a serial killer.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The hole in the ground was about six feet deep and perfectly rectangular.At the bottom sat a wooden box with its lid propped open.Crude construction, maybe pine, the kind of thing someone had built in a garage over a weekend.It didn't belong here in the middle of the woods, surrounded by oak trees and morning mist.
Inside the box was a dead man.
The body was dressed for an office; black slacks, white button-down, suit jacket, and wire-rimmed glasses sitting crooked on his face.His hands were behind his back, and his legs were bound at the ankles.The deceased’s face bore an expression that suggested his final moments had not been peaceful.
Beside her, an excavator idled while its engine coughed diesel fumes into the air.Ripley stood near the machine with Sheriff Bartram and two uniformed cops, all of them watching as the operator maneuvered the hook into position.
'Who the hell found this?'Ella shouted over the hum.
‘Tree surgeons.We got lucky, or this could have gone undiscovered for weeks.’
Ella surveyed the area.Another expanse of woodland, no roads or houses in sight.‘We’re about three miles from the first scene.Close enough to not be a coincidence.’
‘Nothing here is a coincidence,’ Ripley said as she peered over the edge of the grave.‘This doesn’t exactly scream funeral burial.’
The excavator's arm extended.The hook descended into the hole, and an officer guided it until the chain caught on the box's metal handle.The machine groaned.The box lifted slowly, swaying as it rose from the earth.The coffin, once hidden in the depths of the earth, now dangled in the open.The poor victim inside was disturbingly visible, and his final pose was disrupted by the excavator’s jerking movements.
'Was the lid open when they found it?'Ella asked.
Bartram shouted, 'No.We did that.Lid was closed but not nailed shut.'He guided the coffin down to the ground, placed beside the gaping hole from whence it came.It landed and displayed its contents to the onlookers.
‘Christ,’ one of the cops said, and looked away.
Bartram asked, ‘Agents, you seeing this?The perp bound his legs so he couldn’t escape.’
Ella felt a wave of nausea as she peered into the coffin.The man inside looked like he'd been in his early forties.Wedding ring on his left hand.Clean-shaven.No visible injuries on his face or neck.His attire was incongruous with his surroundings, as if he'd been plucked from his daily life and thrust into this nightmare.
‘Buried alive,’ Ella said.The thought hit her right in the stomach, and she gave the nameless victim inside a moment of silent respect.Death, she thought, always deserved acknowledgment.
‘But the lid was unlocked,’ Bartram said.‘What was stopping this guy from pushing out and escaping?’
Ella guessed there was more to this scene than met the eye.Was the killer giving his victims a glimmer of hope?A chance to escape?Or was it just another layer of his game?She crouched beside the box.Pulled on latex gloves.Reached inside carefully, slid her hand under the man's torso.His skin was cold, stiff.She found his wrists behind his back and touched metal cuffs, tight enough to leave marks.'He's restrained.Hands and feet.He couldn't have opened the lid even if he'd tried.'
‘Your torture theory might be on the ball,’ Ripley said.‘Eaten by rats, buried alive.Both ancient techniques.Could our guy be some medieval obsessive?’
