Page 47 of Girl, Fractured

The phone rang three times before a surprisingly alert voice answered.

‘Morning, Agent Dark.’

‘Sarah, sorry for bothering you so early.’

‘One of your colleagues came by last night and told me about Diana.I don’t think I’ve slept a wink.’

‘Yes indeed.Absolutely awful.’Ella said.

‘Thanks for arranging someone to keep an eye on my place.Sheriff Bauer didn’t have any guys free, so he did it himself.’

‘Admirable.I assume he took care of you?’

‘Yes he did.We’re on first-name terms now.’

‘Excellent.Well get him to bring you to the precinct as soon as possible.We need to talk about the other members of your group.’

‘I figured as much.’Papers rustled in the background.‘I’ve been working all night.I’ve got everything you could want.Gone through all of our old messages and emails.Managed to find full names, meeting dates, topics discussed.The closest thing you’ll get to a history of the White Whale Club.’

Ella’s pulse quickened.‘You’ve been gathering intel all night?’

‘Of course.Two of my friends are dead.I want this killer caught as badly as you do.’

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The precinct clock showed 11:42 AM, and Ella was nearly four hours into document hell.

She and Sarah Webb had spent the morning buried in the digital footprints of the White Whale Club, and Sarah – to her credit – had given Ella everything she needed to unearth the names and addresses of every member.When she’d arrived at just after eight, she had three USB sticks of solid gold.

Emails, text messages, cell numbers, profile photos pulled from their encrypted app.Sarah sat across from her with her hair pulled back in a loose bun.The woman had abandoned her usual professional appearance; no lipstick, casual clothes, and rings beneath her eyes from what must have been an all-night research session.Ella couldn’t help but admire the dedication.Sarah might have irritated Ripley, but she’d proved herself indispensable this morning.

They’d already been through everything Sarah had brought, and they’d unearthed ten real names.Along with Sarah, that made eleven numbers of this club, which Sarah had confirmed was correct.Ella had given the results to Ripley, who’d taken them to the Pinellas Office’s IT team to see if they could verify these identities with their technical magic.There were still a few members of the group that Sarah had yet to meet.

Ella looked over at her whiteboard, where she’d condensed everything down into manageable chunks.She’d organized by name, age, gender, their white whale of choice and whether they were still among the living or not.

FRANK SULLIVAN (DECEASED), 73, MALE, JENNIFER MARLOWE.

DIANA JEWELL (DECEASED), 54, FEMALE, FERRYMAN.

SARAH WEBB, 45, FEMALE, BEACHSIDE BURIALS.

AUGUSTUS ‘GUS’ PETERSON, 50, MALE, TAMPA BAY RIPPER.

MICHAEL BROOKS, ??, MALE, BLACK CANDLE MURDERS.

ELLIOTT VANCE, 38, MALE, NIGHTSHADE POISONINGS.

HAROLD DEMPSEY, 63, MALE, LAKE NESBO MASSACRE.

JEREMY QUINN, 55, MALE, JACK OF HEARTS MURDERS.

TRACY BELLWEATHER, 40, FEMALE, THE DEATH SCULPTOR.

GARETH DAVIES, 42, MALE, APARTMENT 16 KILLINGS.

CLARA FINCH, 29, FEMALE, THE HEART COLLECTOR.

She took her glasses off and rubbed the grit from her eyes.Too much screen-gazing with a side of coffee was a recipe for a headache.‘Jesus, I need new glasses,’ she said, fully aware she’d said it every week for three years.