Page 65 of Girl, Unknown

“Move and you die,” Ripley shouted at him. She trained her Glock .22 on his slow-moving torso, but he halted when he saw the pistol. “Jesus, Dark, what did you do to him? Looks like you skinned him.”

Ella had no excuse. “I was just about to smash the crown jewels. You saved me.”

Ripley checked behind her, then up and down the avenue. She looked Ella in the eye and motioned for her to come a little closer.

Ella did.

Ripley lowered her voice. “Well… I mean…”

It took Ella a second to catch on. She too checked for prying eyeballs and found none. “You think?”

The Ripper was still stirring, desperately trying to keep himself perched on his forearms. He’d live, but he’d have a few lifelong scars.

Mia said, “Justice has many faces.”

Ella clutched the wound in her stomach. The blood had stopped flowing, but now it felt like she had nettles lodged in her abdomen.

The Ripper wiped the blood off his face and screamed, “I’m not going to prison; I’ll kill you for this, you won’t get….”

Ella had heard enough from this man.

Resistance was futile. It needed to happen.

She supercharged her right foot and put the finishing touches to her victory, and now the monster was well and truly slain.

Game over.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Ella welcomed the warmth and comfort of a hospital bed, if only for the night. Tomorrow would bring new horrors, and the sooner she faced them the better. They were obstacles she couldn’t ignore or distract herself from, and with the double-killer case now in the past, she needed to address her uncertain future.

Ripley had brought liquid gifts in foam mugs, but when she placed it on her partner’s bedside table, Ella saw it was a mere illusion of caffeine.

“Water,” Ripley said. “You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m insulted,” Ella said, but accepted the drink regardless. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Two catches, one night. Is that a record?”

“A personal record. Maybe not for you.”

“I’ve never done that,” Ripley said. “Even me.”

Ella laughed, “There’s still time. Three months now?”

“Three months. Ages to go. By the way, our guys are singing like birds. We had it right. Two killers, two victims each. Neither of them knew each other. It was just freakishly bizarre timing. The Rose Killer is Jeff Andrews, the Ripper is Gabriel Hunt. He’s the one you castrated.”

“I feel bad about that,” Ella said.

“Don’t. He’ll get over it, plus, you know his victims are smiling down on you for that.”

Ella chortled. She reminded herself she did all this for them. “Has Grant managed to dig up any solid evidence?”

“Tons. He’s got forensics at both of their homes right now and they’ve already found hair samples and clothing fibers from the victims, plus they’ve both confessed. Jeff was killing separated women because his wife left him; Gabriel is some kind of deluded, misogynistic traditionalist.”

“Classic,” Ella said.

“I’m just wondering how Gabriel found you. It was me he was supposed to come for.”

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