Page 35 of Girl, Remembered

‘Who does something like this?’ Strickland asked. ‘Darrell was a trooper. He must have been barely sixty. He deserved better.’

‘Yes he did. What happened here? Who called it in?’

‘A customer. Or a would-be customer. He came to the door, saw the CLOSED sign but peered through the window anyway. This was thirty minutes ago.’

‘Jesus. This is...’

‘Awful. I know. I’ve walked the grid real quick, and the best thing we’ve got is some bloody footprints. But still, any killer with half a brain would burn those boots the second they get home.’

Ella tracked the blood, which started a few feet away from Darrell’s body and had become fainter until it disappeared at the doorway.

Strickland continued, ‘You know anything about this? Who might have done this?’

Ella had an idea – but why this man? Ella hadn’t seen him in a decade. Was he a victim of convenience, or was this completely unrelated to Doyle? She contemplated the idea for a moment, naïve as it was, and confirmed the conclusion she’d come to as soon as she laid eyes on the body.

‘Yes, and we’re working on it. Jim, I’m sorry. Nobody should have to see an old colleague like this.’

‘It’s not the first time. But hopefully it’s the last.’ Strickland tapped her on the back and moved toward the door, where Ripley was keeping guard. From amongst the crowd, an unexpected Rick Vernon appeared. Directors didn’t inspect crime scenes, Ella thought, not unless there was a good reason for it.

Ella went over to him. ‘Sir. What are you doing here?’

Vernon glimpsed the body of Darrell Saunders, looked away for a moment and covered his mouth. The sight and smell of mass blood did strange things to the senses, and everyone reacted differently. Some people tasted it, some people felt it in their nerve endings. For Vernon, it seemed to be a full-body sensation.

‘Good lord. That poor guy.’

‘It’s best not to look at it,’ Ripley said. ‘But yeah, why are you here?’

‘It’s about time I got my hands dirty,’ Vernon said. ‘And someone needs to quash the inevitable shitstorm coming our way. Four murders in one day. I wondered why the traffic here was so dead. It’s because half the residents are too. There’ll be a sea of reporters out there any minute, and I’m gonna be the one to tell them what’s going on.’

Ella had to respect the candor. It was a move out of the William Edis playbook, and that man had left the Bureau a hero. If Vernon kept this up, he might match the status.

Ripley asked, ‘Where’s Dever? Shouldn’t he be here?’

‘Dever’s gone home. He’s doing damage control from there.’

Ella managed to condense her outburst into an exaggerated eyeroll. Ripley just laughed, despite the circumstances.

‘Brilliant,’ Ripley said. ‘Gone home, like we’re not up to our eyeballs in shit.’

‘No comment. Before you both ask, I’ve called up the security company that monitors this place and requested the footage. But even so, we know Doyle did this, because a camera from the tire place down the road caught her vehicle. She’d removed the plates, but it’s the same make and model.’

Ella’s hunch had been right. Doyle was close. She hadn’t fled to another state. She’d stayed to end this, and she was in this very store sometime this afternoon. ‘Rick, we need everyone Fairfax County can spare, on foot, on this strip and the two behind it. Doyle can’t be far away. And this is my home turf. Get guys to my old apartment, my old house, everywhere. She’s going to be looking for me.’

‘Don’t think I haven’t done that already, Ella. I want this woman dead as much as you do.’

Ella didn’t fight the comment. She’d never seen death as a true punishment, but for Doyle, anything less was too good for her. When the opportunity arose – and Ella was sure it would – Ella doubted she’d be able to stop herself from unloading round after round into Doyle’s forehead. She hadn’t even been able to pull the trigger on her father’s killer, although she’d purposely emptied her magazine of ammunition to stop herself from doing just that.

Ammunition.

The connection made itself.

‘Wait a minute. We never found the bullets from my old Glock. Doyle had them.’

Ripley glanced at Darrell Saunders’s dead body, then shut her eyes and sighed. ‘Of course. Doyle came here to arm herself.’

‘And she didn’t want to leave a witness,’ Vernon finished. ‘So, she’s armed and dangerous. We might have to put the whole Mid-Atlantic on lockdown.’

Ripley said, ‘Put a warning out, but if Doyle’s going to kill someone, she’s going to kill someone regardless of a lockdown. All you’ll do is cause mass panic, even more so.’