Page 39 of Girl, Unmasked
‘Our boy's got priors.Seems he likes to use his hands for more than just typing.’
‘Oh sheesh.So he fits the profile, and he’s got a criminal history.’
Ella glanced at the clock.5:07 PM.If Kane kept banker's hours, she might just catch him before he locked up shop for the night.
‘Absolutely right.Which means I need to see if Mr.Kane here is hiding any angels in his bookshop.’
Ripley rose up alongside her.‘I’m coming with you.If William Kane is our man, then I need to punch him for making me read this crap.’
Ella grabbed her jacket and palmed her keys, already plotting the fastest route to Bookshop Obscura in her mental GPS.Her plan was to drive fast and ignore red lights.‘Come on.Bookstore shuts in around twenty minutes, according to the site.’
And Ella was out of the door.Time to see if William Kane was as repulsive in the flesh as he was between the lines.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Still in the car, Ella drank in the sight of the Bookshop Obscura.The place didn't look anything out of the ordinary, except for its faded sign that looked like it had been painted by a drunk.Ella checked the time on the dashboard – 5:27 PM.She had three minutes before this creep show closed up for the night.
‘Ready?’Ripley asked.
‘Very.Let’s do this.’
Ella vaulted out of the cruiser and made her way down the sidewalk.Storm clouds loomed overhead, ready to open up and bring some more February rain.She marched up to the bookstore's door and reached for the handle.
Locked, because of course it was.She glanced in the window, past chipped gilding spelling out 'PURVEYORS OF THE PECULIAR' in flaking gold leaf.The interior was about what she expected from a place catering to the Fangoria set – blood-red walls and wrought iron shelving heaving under the weight of musty books.
She peered through the glass, searching for signs of life amongst the stacks.
Nothing.Not even the twitch of a shadow.For half a heartbeat, she feared she'd arrived too late, that William Kane had pulled a Houdini and slithered off to whatever rock he called home.
But then, somewhere in the belly of the shop, movement.She barely glimpsed it between two towering shelves.
Something akin to a figure bending over the cash register, sporting bony elbows and a ratty cardigan that wouldn’t look out of place on someone twice his age.Even at this distance, she recognized the gaunt features and haunted eyes and mad-scientist hair.
She was staring at William Kane.
‘There, Mia.He’s in there.’
Ella rapped on the window hard enough to rattle the glass.The figure startled, and his head snapped up.She locked eyes with the man who could very well have committed what was now officially classed as an ultra-violent homicide.
For a moment, Ella just stared holes in the man, the two of them separated by glass.
Then Ella flashed her badge.The universal symbol for ‘open this damn door.’
Another frozen eternity.Then Kane scuttled out from behind the register and made his cautious way to the front, unfolding like a malnourished crane.
Kane cracked the door.Wet his lips.When he spoke, his voice was the rasp of dead leaves.‘Apologies, officer.We're closed for the day.’
Up close and personal, Kane was even more of a living scarecrow than his photos suggested.Tall enough to give a basketball player a run for their money, with a complexion that was sorely lacking in vitamin D.His cheeks were sunken, his eyes like two holes in a snowbank.
‘Not for me you're not.’Ella flexed her badge again.‘Agents Dark and Ripley with the FBI.I’ve got some questions that need answering, and word is you’re just the man to fill in the blanks.’
Kane regarded her for a long beat.She saw the facial ticks of a mind in motion.Weighing his options.Looking for an out.
Finally, Kane stepped back and held the door wide.‘Then by all means.Come in.’
Ella was as surprised as anyone at the welcome, but she’d been around enough suspects to know that hospitality didn’t always equal innocence.
'Don't mind if I do.'Ella crossed the threshold, and the smell inside hit her like a slap.Old paper, older mold.Behind her, Kane secured the door with a rattle of lock tumblers.It sounded disturbingly final, but Ella never put much stock in atmosphere.
