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‘No, it would say, even if he was imprisoned in another state. Do we have an address for this guy?’
Ella scrolled through the details but couldn’t find one. ‘No. Which is weird.’
‘It means he doesn’t live in Connecticut anymore, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t come back.’
Ella paused and put herself in the hypothetical shoes of someone who'd disappeared, then returned to the area. If such a situation was true, then what would she need to survive? What traceable elements existed?
She went back to Lucas’ file. ‘Dammit. No registered vehicle.’
‘What do we have on this guy?’ Ripley asked.
‘Just a criminal record and a social security number. His social media pages haven’t been touched in years either.’
‘Social security number? That’s like a digital fingerprint. Pull it up,’ Ripley said.
‘Let's see if we can trace his recent movements. If he's back in town, there must be some kind of paper trail.’
‘Credit cards, phone records, something must be there.’
Without wasting a second, Ella called out for Chief Vasquez in the adjacent office. He peered his head around the door a moment later.
‘Any progress?’ he asked.
‘Possibly. We need to trace a person of interest. If I give you their social security number, could you check his credit card transactions?’
‘Yeah, I can get one of my guys on that. Send it over.’
Ella made a note and passed it across to the chief.
‘I'll get this to our financial crimes unit. They can trace any recent activity. Give me a few minutes.’
Ella gave her thanks and then went back to the screen. ‘So Lucas Trent got into a fight with Miles Rampell just after graduation, and we’ve got a picture of him with the other two victims. Maybe he was part of their clique and fell out with them? Is that a motive for Monday?’
‘Anything can be a motive for murder. People have shot up offices because they didn’t like Mondays.’
Ella recalled the events of earlier that morning. ‘I guess. You nearly killed your boss this morning.’
Ripley furrowed her brow at Ella’s screen. ‘Don’t call that jerk my boss. Can we find out any more about Lucas’ battery charge? I’m not seeing his victim’s name.’
Ella dug into the archived files and found a handwritten police report from two-thousand-six.
Mr. Lucas Trent of Longweave Drive, Stamford, CT was apprehended at 21:30 on the evening of 10/10/06. His partner, Miss Demi Hart, filed a domestic and physical abuse complaint against the accused.
Ella read the statement again, zoning in on the name. Her pulse rate shot up.
‘Miss Demi Hart,’ she said. ‘Our first victim.’
Ripley slammed her hand on the desk. ‘Got you,’ she said. ‘So this guy dated Demi Hart for a while after graduation then turned violent.’
Ella felt some pieces slipping into a place, a blurry picture coming into focus.
‘Right, and maybe that’s why Lucas skipped town. Could be shame or humiliation.’
‘And now he’s had eighteen years to fester. That humiliation could have evolved into resentment for Demi and her circle.’
Just then, Chief Vasquez re-entered the room. ‘We got a hit on Trent's credit card. He used it at a bar downtown thirty minutes ago.’
Ella jumped to her feet, new determination in her veins. ‘Which bar, chief?’
