Page 29

Michael Brooks hadn’t said a word since they’d brought him in, and Ella doubted he would. She, Ripley and Sarah watched him through the glass outside the interrogation room. The split lip from Sarah’s right hook had swollen to cartoonish proportions.

‘He hasn’t asked for food or water or a lawyer. Is that normal?’ Sarah said, still nursing her swollen knuckles. She’d declined ice but accepted two extra-strength ibuprofen from a sympathetic deputy.

Ripley turned away from the window. ‘No. Ten bucks says he pisses himself before he talks.’

‘My money’s on selective mutism,’ Sarah offered. ‘He’s retreated into himself. Classic dissociative response.’

‘You get your criminal psyche degree off the back of a cereal box, Webb? He’s not talking because Florida has the death penalty, and he’s ripe for it.’

The questions were piling up, but none were as pressing as how Ripley found this guy. Ella hadn’t had a chance to question her partner since they’d stuffed Brooks in the back of their car, and she’d have to lay the whole thing out when the paperwork storm came.

‘Mia, talk me through it.’

‘Ha. Well, while you two were stalking that library, I was next door at the coffee shop.’

‘That’s a very you thing to do.’

‘Yeah it is. Anyway, I put two and two together. See, the sign outside his café said they didn’t have Wi-Fi. Not only that, but the café shuts at 4 PM.’

Ella waited for elaboration but none came. ‘Okay?’

‘All our guy’s emails came between 4 and 5, apparently from the library’s network, but that doesn’t mean the sender had to be in the library. This guy was just using the library’s Internet.’

The realization came fast, and Ella felt foolish for not catching on a few seconds sooner. ‘Brooks signed up to the library one time, got access to their Wi-Fi then leeched it going forward.’

‘Yeah, then I hit him with a piece of wood.’

‘Nice,’ Sarah added.

‘Oh great. How am I supposed to justify that?’

‘You want this guy caught or not?’ Ripley asked. ‘Just tell Edis I fell on him. Don’t mention the nails.’

‘What nails?’

‘Don’t worry about that, but on an unrelated note, Brooks probably needs a tetanus shot.’ Ripley turned to Sarah. ‘Hey Webb, does he look like what you imagined?’

‘No. He told us he was older.’

‘So he’s definitely a liar. That’s gospel.’

It was odd, seeing Ripley willingly converse with Sarah, at least without throwing in the odd jibe. Well, maybe there was still one or two, but Ella guessed a punch was all it took for two opposite sides of the crime writing spectrum to become friends.

Footsteps sounded nearby, and Sheriff Bauer materialized beside them. He’d lost his uniform jacket somewhere in the last hour, and sweat rings darkened the underarms of his shirt. The precinct was still maddeningly hot, but Ella had tuned out the discomfort now.

‘Ladies. We’ve scoured that coffee shop and found your suspect’s goodies. Cell, keys, the lot. Get a load of this.’ He passed a plastic bag to Ella. Inside, splayed open like butterfly wings was a wallet. Ella studied the driver’s license displayed behind the cracked plastic window.

Same face as their stone-silent suspect, but with a different name emblazoned beneath it.

‘Josiah Nicholls,’ she said. ‘That’s his real name.’

‘Got you, you bastard,’ Ripley said.

‘Jesus, he’s only twenty-nine.’

‘That’s about the average age a serial killer emerges,’ Sarah said. ‘This Brooks guy – sorry, Nicholls – ticks all the boxes.’

‘She’s right,’ Bauer said. ‘He’s got the connections. If I was heading this thing up, I’d slap a charge on him today.’

‘Don’t cream your pants yet,’ Ripley said. ‘I don’t know about you, but if this Josiah Nicholls guy is our unsub, I want a mountain of evidence against him.’

Ella added, ‘Everything we’ve got is circumstantial. We need something hard. What do we know about him?’

‘Nothing,’ said Bauer. ‘No criminal record. All I can find is that he’s a manager at that café. Never even missed a tax return.’

‘Right, and he’s probably not going to talk. Not unless we make him.’

Sarah asked, ‘Torture him? I suppose that could work.’

Ripley shot a stern look in her direction. ‘What? No. I mean we put some hard evidence in front of him and make him explain it.’

Ella’s ears pricked up at the speed at which Sarah Webb jumped to the torture option. She guessed the woman was used to living vicariously through stories, not actually being a part of them. ‘Mia, you want to take a crack at him?’

Her partner inspected Josiah Nicholls through the glass. ‘He’s too scared to talk. It’s a waste of time, at least right now. Plus, my head is still throbbing where that asshole kicked me. If it flares up when I’m in there, I can’t promise I won’t slap him.’

‘Let him stew?’

‘Yeah. Give it an hour.’

Ripley had the magic touch when it came to breaking suspects, and if she thought interrogating Josiah Nicholls was a lost cause, then Ella accepted it. She stared down at the wallet in her hands. The driver’s license showed an address; Apartment 21B, 1422 Palmetto Drive.

‘Got his address. We should check it out. Sheriff, you found Josiah’s house keys?’

‘We found some keys. Not sure if they fit his front door.’

‘Well, we need something concrete to shake him loose.’ Ella tapped the license against her palm. ‘His place might give us what we need. Mia, you in?’

Ripley massaged the bruise on her forehead. ‘Not right now. I’m pretty sure that son of a bitch concussed me. I’ll stay here.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah. Maybe when the room stops spinning, I’ll see if I can make our friend more talkative.’

‘Can I come?’ Sarah asked.

Ella and Ripley exchanged a look. Ripley didn’t seem to apply any resistance.

Ella had to admit that Sarah had proven herself unexpectedly valuable.

Intel on the White Whalers, taking down Nicholls, her knowledge of regional cold cases.

Sometimes you had to trust someone to find out if they were trustworthy.

‘Sure,’ said Ella.

Sarah’s eyes widened like a child who’d just been picked first for dodgeball. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Unless you need to rest your knuckles.’

‘Pfft. I’ve got five more. If there’s still time, could you drop me at my dad’s house afterward?’

‘Alright then.’ Ella turned to her partner. ‘Mia, you’ve already attacked Josiah with a piece of wood. Don’t violate any more rules.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I won’t break your toy. Scouts honor.’ Ripley held up three fingers in mock salute. ‘Now get going. The sooner we break this creep, the sooner we can put this one in the win column.’