Page 11 of Girl, Empty (Ella Dark #27)

Ella leaned against the wall in the motel corridor while Ripley fought with her keycard two doors down.

After giving Sarah and Emma the terrible news, the night hadn’t brought any new revelations.

All it had brought was below freezing temperatures.

Ella had come straight to the motel after leaving the swimming center, and Ripley had been on the phone to her son the whole journey.

‘I hate these things. They never work,’ Ripley complained.

‘Because you suck with technology,’ said Ella. ‘Which is our biggest problem right now.’

‘Hey, I’m getting a lot better. By the way, Sarah cleared a few things up while you were with her little girl.’

‘Did she?’

‘Yeah. Her marriage to Michael was dead, but they were civil.’ Ripley finally got the door open. ‘There weren’t any blazing arguments or smashing plates. They just woke up one day and realized they were roommates and not lovers.’

'That explains why Emma seemed so casual about her dad never being around.’

‘The poor kid’s probably been preparing for this conversation for years.’

‘True. What vibes did you get from Sarah?’

‘She’s as innocent as the day is long, if that’s what you mean.

As genuine as it gets. Well, as genuine as you can be when you find out your ex has been murdered.

’ Ripley opened the door so that the stale air escaped, then froze.

She seemed to wrestle with three different emotions at once. ‘Sorry, Dark. Slip of the tongue.’

It was funny, how sometimes the wrong words just fell out. Everyone had been guilty of it at some point. ‘I’m glad someone can forget. Did you mention the pentagram to Sarah?’

‘Yeah, and she said that Emma had a tattoo of one on her arm. I was wondering what kind of kid gets a tattoo.’

‘I saw it. It’s a temporary one.’

‘That’s a relief. Sarah said she got it out of a cereal box and liked it. Her dad put it on for her.’

Ella felt something kick her gut. ‘So, no symbolism there.’

‘No deeper meaning than if it had been a unicorn. Sarah said Michael was about as spiritual as a tax return. Never went to church, didn't believe in God, certainly wasn’t a Wiccan type.'

Ella tried to process this. A rational, secular man helps his daughter apply a symbol he doesn't comprehend.

Then that same symbol materializes on his computer after someone murders him in a room that physics said was impenetrable.

Coincidence felt about as likely as winning the lottery while being struck by lightning.

‘Did she mention a David?’

‘No. Who’s David?’

‘I don’t know. Emma said her mom had a friend named David who did magic.’

‘Magic, huh? Don’t get me started on that David Copperfield stuff again. Sarah said she wasn’t dating.’

Ripley’s strange obsession with David Copperfield had always been a constant source of fascination for Ella, and she guessed that if this was grade school, Ripley would be chasing him around the playground. ‘’Not dating’ can mean a lot of things.’

‘Like?’

‘Like maybe David's the kind of friend who comes over after Emma's asleep.’

‘I get the vibe that Sarah’s been running on autopilot so long she forgot what the manual looks like. She works full time and raises her kid alone. Maybe she's got a David. Maybe she's got three Davids. Wouldn't blame her. Are you going to stand here all night or go to your own room?’

‘Right, sorry. I just want to know where we can start tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow’s a new day. Or at least I hope it is, because Sarah didn’t give me jack to work with. Michael has no enemies according to her, so let’s hope Tech Wizard Cheekbones finds something we can latch onto.’

‘Let’s hope indeed. See you at eight.’

Ripley stepped over the threshold, then pulled back. ‘By the way, you did right by that kid today. Not many people can sit with a child and tell them their world just ended.’

‘It didn’t feel right.’

‘Good. That's how you know you're still human.’

‘Appreciated.’ Ella said her goodbyes and crossed the hall to her own room.

The keycard worked first try, and the door swung open to reveal something that made her pause.

This wasn't the usual roadside disaster. Someone had shown this place some love. Maybe Edis was feeling generous on his way out, so he’d got the admin staff to book the good stuff.

Ella dropped her bag at the foot of the bed and tested its condition. Soft and clean. Seven out of ten. She pulled out her phone and decided to call Luca, but his name already occupied her screen.

Hope you’re okay out there. All’s well at home x.

The timestamp showed three hours ago. He'd been thinking about her while she was explaining death to a nine-year-old who'd just won a silver medal. She typed: Still awake? Then deleted it. Luca would be asleep. Or trying to be. No point dragging him into her insomnia.

She decided she should spend the night digging into the life of Michael Rankin, but as she reached for her laptop, she found all her energy had depleted.

She felt diminished. Smaller than the mysteries surrounding her, less substantial than the questions multiplying like cancer cells.

With every other case she’d worked, she’d always known where to turn next, always believed in the back of her mind that no unsub, no matter how organized, could outsmart her.

There was no such thing as a unique serial killer, because they were all bound by the same compulsions and the same physical constraints.

The only thing that changed were the names and locations.

But now, Ella was dealing with a ghost that could manipulate technology and float through high-surveillance buildings unseen.

For the first time in her career, she had to wonder if she was out of her depth with this one.