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‘Might have seen a few old friends, shared a few laughs… about Demi and Mark.’
A potential outburst lingered on Ella’s tongue, and looking at Lucas’ smug face, she couldn’t help herself. ‘For God’s sake,’ she shouted. ‘Lucas, it was high school, twenty years ago. Teenagers are cruel and stupid. You can’t hold on to childhood grudges forever.’
Lucas’ hands begin to shake. You don't get it,’ he said, his voice rising. ‘It wasn't just high school for me. They made my life hell. Every day was a struggle because of them. Mark and Miles were bullies, scumbags, popular kids that got the girls because they could play football. You don't forget the people who made you feel worthless. When Demi left Mark for me, it felt like the only victory I ever had. Then she went and fleeced me for everything I had. Now, you want me to feel sorry for these people?’
Ella watched him, her mind racing. His words hinted at a deep-seated emotional trauma, one that could potentially drive someone to extreme actions. But was it enough to lead to murder?
‘Can anyone confirm your whereabouts the past three nights?’ she asked.
‘Motels got cameras, don’t they?’
Ella looked over at her partner, a silent thread of suspicion between them. The answer to Lucas’ involvement in these murders lay in CCTV footage. She could continue the conversation for hours, but alibis said more than words ever could.
‘We’ll be checking that footage,’ Ripley said. ‘And if we can’t verify your exact whereabouts at the estimated times of death, we’ll have a lot more to talk about.’
Lucas seemed nonchalant, almost defiant. ‘Check all you want. I've got nothing to hide.’
Ella leaned forward, her tone shifting slightly. ‘Lucas, if there's a pattern to these murders, anyone else from this high school clique could be in danger. Can you give us the names of the other people in Demi's, Mark's, and Miles' circle back then?’
Lucas laughed maniacally. ‘Why should I care? They never gave a damn about me.’
‘Because it's the right thing to do, Lucas,’ Ella pressed, her gaze steady. ‘If someone is targeting your former classmates, we need to know who else might be at risk.’
The suspect huffed and said, ‘Could be a hundred people. Anyone from the football team, any of the girls Mark and Miles slept with. They had a rotating cast.’
Ella became desperate. ‘Any names you can recall?’
Lucas showed his stained teeth again and said, ‘Sorry, I’m drawing a blank.’
Ella clasped her hands together, restraining herself. The urge to reach over and grab this guy by the neck was close to critical mass.
‘What about people who might want to kill these people?’
‘Any of the losers from high school would make good candidates. Mark and Miles threw them all around. And no, I’m not going to tell you their names.’
Ella’s mounting fury was interrupted by her ringing phone. She discretely checked the number and felt a pang of hope, only to be replaced with a sickening dread. It was the director’s number, only it no longer belonged to Edis. The new director, Randall Carter, was calling her. She flashed her phone screen at Ripley before excusing herself.
‘I’ll be back,’ Ella said to Lucas, ‘and even if you’re as innocent as you claim, you’re still going down for obstruction of justice.’
Ella moved swiftly out into the corridor and caught her phone on the final ring before it would have gone to voicemail.
‘Hello, Agent Dark speaking,’ she said.
‘Ella, this is Director Carter,’ came the stern voice from the other end of the line. Ella braced herself, already knowing the conversation wouldn't be pleasant. ‘Mind telling me why you and Ripley were involved in a bar fight this afternoon?’
Ella sighed, knowing full well that her actions, while necessary at the moment, were now under scrutiny. ‘Sir, we were in the middle of a covert operation. Things escalated quickly, and I had to intervene to prevent a suspect from fleeing. I assure you, it was all in the line of duty.’
Carter was silent for a moment, then replied. ‘One more stunt like that and you’re off the case. From here on out, I want constant updates – just like I told you this morning. Is that clear?’
Ella moved the phone away from her ear, using all of her willpower not to launch the thing against the wall.
‘Clear, sir.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
James Gorton sat tensely on his well-worn sofa in the living room, his fingers drumming a nervous rhythm on the armrest. The room, bathed in light – just like every other room in his house – felt unusually claustrophobic tonight. He had planned to go out, maybe meet some friends, but the unsettling news of the recent murders in Stamford had anchored him to his home. Not to mention that one of the friends he usually kicked back with – Mark Jensen – was now sitting in a morgue somewhere.
Looking around his living room, the familiar surroundings now seemed foreign, as if danger could be hiding in any corner. He had double-checked the locks on his doors and windows earlier, a small action that provided little comfort. He’d switched on every light, every television, anything that broadcast there was life, movement and perhaps multiple bodies in his home.
