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“Pets?”
“None.
Ella took a moment to breathe, adjusting her eyes to the darkness outside. “Ripley?” she said.
Her partner called back, “What?”
“Get here.”
The moving figure outside was now pressed against the fence, mingling amongst the shadows. Ella took the time to ensure this wasn’t some figment of her imagination, some mirage borne of desperation. Ripley appeared beside her.
“Well, it’s a lovely garden,” Ripley said, “but we’re busy here.”
Ella lowered her voice. “There’s someone out there. To the left. By the fence. He hasn’t seen me.”
“What? You’re sure?”
“Yes. Are you ready?”
Ripley clutched her pistol. “Go. I got you covered.”
“Patricia, stay there,” Ella said.
The confused woman called from behind, “Where are you going? Into my garden? Why?”
Ella grabbed the silver key lodged in the lock, turned it to the left. Outside, the figure moved again, this time noticeably. Ripley slapped her on the shoulder. “Go! He’s heard you.”
She hurtled out into the crisp night air, striding towards the figure with reckless abandon. She could barely see what lay in front of her, but she wasn’t going to stop until this figure was at her mercy. Her sudden arrival startled the now-moving silhouette, rushing down the garden towards the rear fence.
“Stop!” Ella shouted.
The figure didn’t listen. He’d now taken on the full outline of a human being, complete with dark clothes and black hood, suspiciously resembling the same figure from the CCTV footage. Even at ten feet away, Ella could feel his sinister aura radiating like heavy smoke. He was here, within grabbing distance, sneaking around a woman’s garden.
He reached the fence, bounced off it, then tried to scramble up.
But to no avail.
Ella grabbed him by the jacket, hauled him off down to the ground, driving his spine into concrete. The man gasped for air, furiously kicked his sudden attacker. But his frenzied movements stopped when he saw a gun barrel pointing at his chest. His hands shot up in surrender.
“Don’t shoot,” he yelled.
“Who are you?” Ella screamed back. Ripley and Patricia quickly appeared beside her, Ripley bringing insurance in the form of another pistol aim. Ella’s trembling hands gave her away her excitement, because the man on the ground was a dead ringer for the man she’d seen on camera. He had receding hair, a weathered face, a few extra pounds.
“Jasper?” Patricia cried. “It was… you?”
The grounded suspect nodded quickly. His cowardice was plastered on every inch of his body. Ella breathed easy, the evening chill cleansing her lungs of the past few days.
“You know each other?” Ripley asked.
Just as Ella guessed. Another nail in the coffin. This had to be their man.
“Yes. He’s my ex-husband,” Patricia said.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Outside Patricia Edwards” home, Ella threw their cuffed suspect into the back of their cruiser. The journey had not been without its issues, namely Patricia, who’d taken to punching her ex-husband. Ella couldn’t say she blamed him.
Still beside, the scorned woman clearly hadn’t finished.
