‘Not here.Needs to finish this properly.’
‘And how do we do that?’
‘Get in,’ Sarah gestured.‘Drive.’
Ripley slid behind the wheel of Sarah’s Nissan having somehow won the cell phone battle.There was no GPS on the thing, so Ella wouldn’t know her location regardless.Still, she wasn’t giving up pictures of Max at the request of some hack.Webb slid into the back seat.There was a plastic water bottle in the cup holder, half-empty.A receipt for gas tucked into the center console.The mundane artifacts of everyday life, utterly disconnected from the cold barrel of a gun now pressed against the back of her neck.
‘Go,’ Sarah instructed.
Ripley pumped the gas.The damn thing was still alive.
And they were off.Ripley rolled past her abandoned cruiser.Ella and Bauer might track it, but by then, it could be too late.
‘Let them find your car,’ Sarah said.‘We’ll be finished by the time they track it.’
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
There were only six cars in the parking lot of the Spring Orchard apartment complex, and none of them were a beaten-up black Toyota.
Which meant Robert Lawrence wasn’t home.
Three days, three bodies, and now Ripley was chasing a woman who’d crucified her own father.The thought clawed at her stomach.
Ella exited the car and made for Robert Lawrence’s apartment.The complex was a small place, and Ella was going to use the lack of bodies around to her advantage.Namely that nobody would be around to see her break in.
She found the entrance to the complex unlocked.She navigated the ground floor until she found apartment 7.It was at the end of the row.She banged on the door, then put her ear to the wood.
Nothing.Not even the electric hum of occupied space.
She tried the handle – locked – then checked the corridor.Left, right, clear.Nobody home to witness her procedural sins.
Before she could step back and position herself to break this thing down, her phone rang.Sheriff Bauer lit up her screen.
‘Bauer, tell me something good,’ she answered.
‘Far from good.We found the cruiser Ripley took.There were some dents in the front and side.’
‘Where?’
‘About fifteen miles west of here.Just off Route 60 on an unmarked access road.Middle of nowhere.’
‘And Ripley?’
‘No sign of her.The vehicle’s empty.’
Ella’s lungs collapsed.Ripley would never abandon her cruiser unless she was dead or dragged out of it.
‘Any blood?Signs of struggle?’
‘None, but there are tire tracks from another vehicle.’
The scene crystallized in her head, so vivid it was like watching it on a reel.Ripley pushing Sarah off the road, then approaching her, only for – what?The reel cut off.What had happened next?Had Sarah somehow abducted Ripley, and if so, where the hell was she taking her?
Another thought made its unwelcome intrusion – was Ripley still breathing?The lack of blood at the scene suggested her partner was still alive, but Sarah could be taking Ripley somewhere more isolated to do the deed.
Even as Ella thought about it, she just couldn’t imagine Sarah doing that.Sarah Webb was hiding something, but Ella didn’t think it was as simple as: she’s a serial killer.
‘Sheriff, I’ll get to the scene ASAP.’