Page 38 of Girl, Unmasked
Ella felt a spark.Hope, maybe, or the beginning of an adrenaline rush that would either lead to a breakthrough or another dead end.‘Okay, Sherlock.I'm listening.What was it supposed to be?’
‘I don’t know.I’ve only been in Norwalk since this morning, like you.’
The world tilted and realigned itself along a razor's edge of possibility that Ella hadn't even considered before now.
A mistake.Atypo.
Could it really be that simple?A breadcrumb left by a mind that planned murder down to the last artery spurt?
Ella put her paranoia aside.She wanted to jump up, do a victory lap around her shoebox office.But the cop in her, the one who'd seen too many promising leads turn to ash, planted her ass in front of her laptop.
‘Mia, you might've just hit the jackpot.’
‘Don’t get excited just yet.We need to actually find something this might relate to.’
Ella hammeredBookshop Obscure Norwalkinto the search bar and hit enter.
One second.Two.
Then it popped up.
There it was, in pixelated black and white.
Bookshop Obscura – specializing in horror, true crime, and dark fantasy.
Ella clenched her fist and slammed it down.‘Dammit, Ripley.You did it.You out-thought this son of a bitch.Bookshop Obscura.It’s a real place right here in Norwalk.’
Ripley wheeled closer.‘I knew reading would come in useful one day.Here, check the ‘About’ section.Might say who works at this place.’
Ella followed Ripley's directions and navigated to the page in question.A headshot popped up, along with a name and a brief paragraph beside it.
And Ella’s brain refused to believe the checks her eyes were writing.
'Holy crap,' Ripley said.She must have caught it, too.
The owner’s name was William Kane.
‘Kane,’ Ella said.‘Just like…’
‘Cain.Our little protagonist.’
But that wasn't all, because the face staring back at her could have stepped right out of Drago LaChance's descriptions.Gaunt features, hollow eyes, hair wild enough to make Einstein look presentable.
Ella didn't believe in fate, but she sure as hell believed in bad guys getting sloppy.And this felt like the universe handing her a gift-wrapped lead, complete with a neon sign that screamed ‘BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF PSYCHOPATH.’She scanned the guy’s bio:
William Kane is the owner and proprietor of the Bookshop Obscura, and has been since 2001.He is the author of seven horror novels, but is still striving for that one major hit.His books include The Grave Dancer, Ghostmortem, and Coffee With The Devil.
‘Ghostmortem,’ said Ripley.‘Pretty clever.’
‘Yeah, great.’Ella attacked the keyboard and hammered William Kane’s name into the police database.She gnawed her lip as she willed the digital hamster wheel to spin faster.Ripley hovered at her shoulder, close enough that Ella caught a whiff of her shampoo.
The screen flickered, and Ella's world zeroed in.
‘Well, I'll be damned,’ she muttered.
William Kane's rap sheet unfurled before her like a love letter from Lady Justice herself.One count of domestic battery, three years back.Seems Mr.Kane had decided his wife's face needed rearranging, courtesy of his fist.
‘What is it?’Ripley asked.‘I can’t make sense of this stupid database.’
