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Ripley moved to the first victim to check the similarities. This time it was a woman, found dead in her apartment in a similar position. The glossy photograph showed her kneeling on the floor, legs slightly apart, with her face pressed into the sofa. Again, a river of blood had collected beneath her. Ripley had questions.
“Director, what connects these, exactly?” Ripley looked over at her partner to gauge her response to the details but found nothing but a blank expression on her face. Ripley wanted to grab the file from Ella’s hands and demand she get away from this job for six months. Go out and get hammered, take a trip to Europe, spend the night with some chiseled young stud. Anything to undo the constant frown on her face. Something that might put some color back into her cheeks. The rookie was ghostly pale and had more split ends than a horse’s tail.
“Proximity more than anything,” the director said.
Ripley jumped back and forth between the crime scene photos. Her first thought was that these two murders could easily have been the work of two separate people.
“That’s all that connects them,” Ripley said. “Vastly different victimology. The first was stabbed in the sternum while the second was attacked in the back. Do we have any confirmation they were committed by the same person? Any DNA or hair strands or anything?”
“Afraid not. But this…” Edis checked his notes. “A place called Alfa Creek. Small town. The odds of two murders occurring within a week is quite slim, no?”
“No. It happens all the time. You should know this,” said Ripley.
“Perhaps, but we have a duty to investigate it.”
“Not if it’s not a serial case we don’t. It looks to me like the first victim was killed in broad daylight while the second was carried out in the early hours. Everything about this screams two isolated incidents to me.”
“They’re connected,” Ella said.
Ripley and the director turned to the new voice and willed Ella to continue. But she didn’t. She just carried on leafing through the pages.
“Do go on,” Edis said.
Ella coughed into her elbow then removed two photographs from the folder. “He wants us to think these bodies fell like this but he’s posed them. Look at their legs.”
Ripley peered closer. Both victims were kneeling, their legs spread about ninety degrees apart. Ripley didn’t see anything special about them.
“I got nothing.”
“Both died from being stabbed. The natural reaction to a knife in your gut is to tense up, contract your muscles, shrink yourself so the shock is dispersed around the body. No dying person is gonna land like these have. He positioned them like this.”
Ripley roleplayed the scenario in her head. She’d been stabbed enough times to recall the feeling with unwanted accuracy. The rookie was right. When steel penetrated your flesh, tension gripped your body so hard you became a plank of wood.
“Decent observation,” Ripley agreed.
“The question is why he’s posed them like this when he could have just left them where he killed them.”
Edis jumped in. “That’s for you agents to figure out. No flights to West Virginia for hours but I need you there ASAP. You’re on the jet. You should get there in an hour if the pilot puts his foot down.”
“On it.” Ripley shoved the folder under her arm and made for the door. The rookie stayed behind, probably not wanting to face the woman she’d had a blazing argument with a week ago. But as far as Ripley was concerned, they’d aired their grievances and so were ready to move on. Outside of the director’s office, Ripley checked her phone and her bag and made sure she had everything she needed for the trip. She already knew she did, but it was an excuse to wait for Ella.
Two minutes later, the rookie emerged from within, a mask of defeat already plastered across her face. She looked surprised to find Ripley still out here.
“How are things, Dark?”
Ella readjusted her bag over her shoulder and said, “I’m fine. And you?”
“No complaints. Ready to head out?”
Ella scratched her head, looked at the floor and exhaled like she was puffing on an invisible cigarette. “Are you sure you want to go out there with me again?”
Ripley checked the hallways to make sure no one was within earshot. “We had an argument. So what? Learn to let things go.”
Ella smiled dismissively. “We haven’t even left and you’re already lecturing me.” She laughed but there was venom behind it.
“For God’s sake, Ella. I meant what I said and I’m sure you did too. We disagree on things and that’s just how it is. I’m ready to wipe the slate clean, are you?”
During their last case, Ella had gone rogue and took the investigation into her own hands. She’d taken a suspect out into the woods, put a gun barrel to his head and demanded he admit his wrongdoings. Ella had no intention of going through with the act, of course. It was just smoke and mirrors to elicit a confession. However, it was a major violation of protocol, not to mention the suspect’s human rights. Ripley was surprised the director hadn’t torn the rookie a new backside for it because that suspect could sue the FBI for millions. But since the suspect had been a prolific burglar, he’d stayed quiet about the incident, not wanting to dip his toes too deeply into law enforcement waters. Ella had been right about his guilt, but wrong in her approach. Hopefully, she’d learned her lesson for this time.
