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“Was all this worth it?” Ella asked. “You could have just gone to the police, confessed everything. Told them the story from day one. Why didn’t you do that?”
“They’d take me back to prison. I’m not going back there. It wasn’t enough I had to kill my dad, but then they locked me up for ten years even though I didn’t do anything. People like you made my life hell. I needed to exact vengeance. Make it so it was all worth it. I’m impressed you figured it out, but now I have to kill you… and this poor gentleman behind us. I can’t have you revealing my identity to the police.”
The intended victim had sat watching the spectacle in full, unable to move or speak. Ella could only imagine the terror running through his veins.
More time. Just a little bit more. It wouldn’t be long now.
The Crawler pointed the gun at her forehead. Ella gave it her last shot.
“There’s one problem, Thomas,” she said. “No one other than me figured this out. I haven’t told anyone about this. That’s why I’m here alone.”
His aim lowered just a little. A moment of weakness.
But not enough to capitalize.
“You’re lying,” he said.
This was it. She’d gotten into his head. If he killed her, then no one would know about his new legacy. It would die with her in this room.
“I’m not. Let me live and go down in infamy, or kill me and remain a nobody. It’s your choice.”
“Someone will figure it out. You can’t be the only one,” the Crawler screamed.
“Then why is no one else here, Thomas? You’re smart. You realize this. Stop living in your fantasy world and come into reality. If I die, your new legacy dies. These murders will fade from memory. Your dad’s murder will stay unsolved. Nothing will change.”
Thomas Colten, the Crawler, screamed something unintelligible then gripped his weapon with fury. He curled his finger around the trigger and jammed it against Ella’s forehead. She tried to fight back but the blood loss got the better of her. There was no strength left in her. It was as though all her previous injuries had combined into one crippling effect.
BANG.
The house shook on its foundations. Vibrations ran down her ear canal and set fire to her brain. She closed her eyes, thinking of Ben and the others she let down, praying Tobias Campbell would be found, remembering those days on the farm with her father. She expected death.
But death didn’t come, only a scream of agony from the man in front of her.
He toppled to the floor, clutching his stomach. Ella leaped forward with what little energy she had left and scraped the pistol out of his hand. She mounted him, pinned him down. In the doorway of the bedroom, a hunched-over Mia Ripley stood with gun in hand. She limped over and took over cuffing duties while Ella crawled over to the restrained hostage. After a minute of fumbling, she managed to untie him.
Every soul in the room collapsed in exhaustion, siting silently, waiting for the next step. Police and ambulance sirens sounded in the distance, drowning out the sound of the flickering log burner.
“32 years since I was last in this room,” Ripley said.
The moment must have been surreal for her partner, Ella thought, but it bookended her career in the most fitting way possible.
“I expected to solve my last case out here,” Ripley continued, “but I never expected to solve my first.”
Ella had no words for her. She was just going to let her partner treasure the moment. Tomorrow was for talking, today was for relishing where they were.
Bodies invaded the room. Police officers and medical staff. The nightmare had come to an end.
“Congratulations on your retirement,” Ella said, at last.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
It was the early hours of the morning by the time Ella and Mia got back to the precinct in Spring Ridge. Ella felt like a walking laceration, and she could only assume Ripley was in an even worse state. Before packing her bag for the journey home, Ella took a seat and made sure she had all the necessary documents available for the local police. The entire case had been so bizarre that a defense attorney might find reasonable doubt among some of the evidence.
Thomas Colten, aka the Crawler, had been Phillip Colten’s only child. When Phillip had been murdered in 1988, it was assumed the killer also took his son. At the time, Thomas was only 13 years old. However, the truth was that Thomas was the one who murdered his own father as payback for years of abuse. Thomas had stabbed his dad to death, then tied him up to make it look like someone more capable had carried out the attack. It was a moment that spawned a monster and a future serial killer.
Thomas then fled town and took shelter in the walls of a family’s home in Hicksberg. No one ever uncovered the Crawler’s true identity, not for another 32 years, anyway.
Ripley took a seat, squeezed her shoulder then cracked her neck. “Remember when I told you about my trips down to P.A. to see my mom?”
