Page 58 of Girl, Undone
But as tried to shake off the exhaustion, she caught something on the screen.
Perhaps it was her subconscious taking control of the wheel, or her weary brain making unexpected connections in the way daydreams sometimes did, but a name on her laptop emerged out of the fog.
Dr.D.L.Graham.
The name – a name she already knew – seared itself into Ella's consciousness.
‘Derek Graham,’ Ella said.The therapist who led the group sessions at St.Augustine's church.
How could she have missed it?He had been there, right in front of her, a figure of trust and healing, yet now potentially the orchestrator of this whole ordeal.
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, trying to keep herself from overthinking and jumping to conclusions.Gut feelings had their place in law enforcement, but she was already three suspects deep, and each one had a solid alibi.Concrete evidence was needed, and fast.
She recalled Derek's mannerisms, his speeches about fear, his influence over the group.Could he have manipulated his patients' fears for his own twisted purposes?Was it possible Derek was able to lure his users onto the Scarecrow app and transpose his group therapy into one-on-one private sessions?
It is in acknowledging our fears, confronting them, that we find our true strength.Fear can either be a barrier or a gateway to understanding ourselves better.
Derek’s words.Ella recalled them with startling clarity.
Was Derek a genuine healer, or a predator hiding in plain sight?
The only way to find answers was to confront Derek Graham directly, but she needed to do it carefully, subtly.She didn't have enough solid evidence to throw accusations at him, so she needed to talk to him, look for the signs, and try to wrap him up in a web of his own making.There were plenty of details about the crimes that were yet to reach the public, and if she could extract a minor, unpublished detail from Derek, it was a crack to a bigger revelation.
Her previous interactions with her new person of interest took on a new light as she replayed them.His monologues about fear, his probing questions, his insightful yet unsettling comments – they all seemed to fit the profile of someone who could exploit vulnerabilities.But was it mere professional insight, or something else?And if Derek was indeed her unsub, then he was intelligent and perceptive, possibly even aware of Ella's true identity.
That meant there was no point being coy.
Time to reveal her true identity to him.
Ella opened up the police database database and searched Derek Graham’s name.She pulled his address, noted it down and prepared her leave.Derek’s house was around five miles away.She could be there in thirty minutes if the traffic flow was generous.
Ella knew the next few hours could change everything – they could kickstart a pathway to justice or send her back to square one in her search for the truth.
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
This church – a place of solace for most – held a different meaning for him.This was the stage for his master performance.
He lingered in the courtyard, just beyond the wrought iron gate, but not close enough to the church doors to be seen.The grave mourners and mass-goers had left for the day, and now in the quieter hours, the place belonged to him.He’d parked his car just inside the cemetery, concealed by the brick wall and a cluster of trees.He was invisible from both inside the church and out.
The early-evening air was cool, and the scent of damp earth mingled with the faint fragrance of incense that drifted from within the church.A tornado brewed in his mind, bringing with it a surge of emotions that even a man of expert deception like him struggled to conceal.
Any minute now, the next wave of arrivals would appear.He knew their routines well – the early birds, those souls seeking solace and companionship in the arms of a group that understood their fears.He could almost hear their hushed conversations and the sharing of inner demons in the very air that surrounded this holy place.
He hadn’t had long to rehearse this entry in his series because it was a deviation from his original plan.This was impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, but necessary.Since the fire subject had yielded nothing substantial, he needed to make up for his error.
The church bell tolled in the distance.Five rings, signaling five o'clock.Any second now, he told himself as he surveyed the area.Soon, footsteps would sound on the other side of the wall, and people would turn the corner into the churchyard.That was his cue to strike.
Then he heard it - the sound of tentative footsteps approaching the church from the main road.His heartbeat upped the tempo and sent a quiver to his thighs.He edged closer to the gate and fixed his attention on the corner where the churchyard path turned.
A lone figure appeared, a man clutching a small book, perhaps a journal.He was early, probably seeking a few moments of solitude before the session.His head was bowed, lost in thought, unaware of the danger lurking just out of sight.He sensed a vulnerability in his posture, a slight tremble, as though coming here was an act of punishment rather than a personal choice.He already knew the lone figure’s worst fears because he shared them every week, but even though bringing the man’s insect phobia to life would be a sweet experience, fortune was in his favor tonight.
The figure moved on, towards the church, where he’d sip coffee until the session began as he did every week.
He was not the one.
He had a specific target in mind.
As the figure dissolved from sight, he adjusted his position, melding further into the darkness.The anticipation was an electric current running through his veins, both thrilling and unnerving.Until now, he’d subdued all of his victims under the cover of night, but such a ruse wouldn’t fly this time. He felt a perverse joy in upending his own rules.There was something raw and visceral about stepping out of the shadows, about orchestrating fear under the watchful eye of the dying day.
