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'Outside with some of my guys. Kids are there, too. Luckily, they slept through the whole thing. Didn't see or hear anything.'
‘Thank God for that,’ Ella said. ‘Has he left a mask behind?’
Daniels shrugged and looked around at his feet as though the comment might summon forth the required item. 'No mask, so there's a chance thisisn’tour guy, but a third murder in three nights, barely two miles from Jessica Owen’s house? Not a coincidence.’
Ella agreed.
‘How’d he get inside?’ asked Ripley.
Daniels said, ‘Haven’t got that far yet, but Mr. Martin assured me he locked this place up tight before he left. The babysitter was no rookie, either. She never took any risks, apparently.’
‘He might have known her,’ Ripley said. ‘We need to check the victim’s phone to see if she invited anyone over.’
Daniels scratched his chin. ‘Problem there. No phone on the victim.’
Ella asked, ‘No phone?’
‘Nope. We’ve found her handbag, purse, keys – but no phone.’
Ella tried to make sense of it but struggled. ‘Young woman, trusted babysitter, but she doesn’t have a phone?’
Ripley shot her a troubled look. ‘Only one conclusion.’
Ella got there too. ‘The killer took it, but why?’
‘They must have been in contact, in one way or another.’
Ella stepped away from the victim and stared at the flickering TV. It was on a news channel, something about a helicopter crash in San Diego, but the scrolling text at the bottom of the page mentioned the very case she was lost in.
MAYWOOD HORROR MURDERS – UPDATES AS THEY COME.
There was about to be an update, alright. She refocused on the task at hand, playing out the scene in linear order. Only she stumbled at the first hurdle because she couldn't figure out how her unsub had gained access to the home.
‘I’m going to check the upstairs,’ Ella said.
‘Right behind you,’ said Ripley. Ella led the way, passing by bloodstains and scuffs on the hardwood floor. Ella first checked the bathroom; no sign of a struggle or forced entry. Next was the Martins’ bedroom, and again found no possible entry points. Just soft furnishings, a king size bed, velvet sheets.
Ripley then moved through to the next bedroom with Ella in tow. A door decorated with superhero stickers greeted them, and inside, Ella found the distinct decor of a young boy's room. Posters, toy cars, airplane bedsheets.
But no entry points.
Their last port of call was the final bedroom. The door was painted a soft lavender, adorned with hand-painted flowers and butterflies that appeared slightly smudged – probably the work of young, eager hands. A sparkly sticker reading ‘Amelia's Room’ revealed its occupant.
Pushing the door open gently, Ella was immediately enveloped by a room that exuded childhood whimsy. The walls were a shade of pale pink, sprinkled with wall decals of unicorns, rainbows, and fairy princesses. Dashes of green light bounced off the walls, hypnotically rotating moon and star shapes.
Ella switched the main light on and scrutinized every corner, but it was the window opposite the door was what drew Ella's attention. It was slightly open, allowing a gentle breeze to flutter the curtains. Ella moved closer, and found that on the window sill, several dolls had been scattered, their positions suggesting they might have been disturbed or hastily moved.
Ella had to fight back a sudden wave of nausea.
‘Ripley, you don’t think…?’
Her partner gently opened the curtains to give them full view of the window. Down below, the Martins’ square garden revealed itself.
‘Open window, but…’ Ripley peered out of it. ‘That’s a long drop down below.’
Ella inspected it too. There wasn’t much to grab on to. ‘Looks like a tough journey, but how else would he get in? He can’t walk through walls.’
‘Get forensics to follow the trail outside. He might have left footprints behind.’
