Page 56 of Girl, Deceived

‘But…’ Ripley continued, ‘no hero has ever retired without a misdemeanor or two.’

‘How many do you have?’

‘None.’

‘Let’s not sully your record,’ Ella said as she tugged the handle. The door clicked open. Ella gestured towards a trash can mounted on the curb. ‘We caught him as he was putting his garbage out.’

‘You’ll be the death of me,’ Ripley said.

Ella pushed the door open, hoping the noise might alert the owner. From inside, a layer of white noise traveled from an open door at the end of the kitchen. Ella stepped inside, palm clutched to her pistol at her side. The kitchen was sparkling clean, immaculate, everything in its place. Above the kitchen table, Ella saw a collage of Megan and Jason together in happier times. Vacation photos, school photos. It was enough to twinge her heart with grief for the bereaved father.

Ella's footsteps echoed softly on the wooden floor as she and Mia moved deeper into the house. The living room was awash in the soft blue glow of a muted TV, the static screen illuminating old family photos and the edge of a leather couch. The white noise grew louder, the source becoming evident as they approached an open door leading to a rec room.

Between the cracks, Ella saw a figure. Tall and wiry, hunched over a whirring vacuum.

But it was a woman.

Not Jason Parker.

The white noise died out, and when the vacuumer spun on their heels, she spotted the two strangers who’d breached her home.

‘Agh!’ the woman cried as she toppled back against the wall. She grabbed the vacuum and used it as a makeshift barrier. ‘Who the hell are you?’

Ella peered at her partner. According to Jason Parker’s file, he lived alone. Megan’s mother had died at a young age.

‘FBI,’ Ella said, trying to reassure the woman. She was wearing a grey jumper, two sizes too big. She had a mop of grey hair that seemed to defy gravity. Ella guessed she was in her sixties.

‘Who? You just walk into houses whenever you feel like it or somethin’?’

‘Sorry for the intrusion, but we need to speak to Jason Parker. Is he around?’

‘How’d you get in? And no, he ain't.'

'We walked in,' Ella said, opting for honesty. It was always better in the long run. If she got a telling-off from the director, so be it. 'Our apologies, but we're desperate.'

The woman threw her vacuum to the side – an assertive act to offset the adrenaline rush, no doubt. She scanned the two agents from left to right and back again.

‘Cops?’ she asked.

‘Feds,’ Ella said with a flash of her badge. ‘Is Jason here?’

‘How many times, lady? Jason don’t live here no more.’

There was always a swerve at the last minute, Ella thought. ‘Can you tell us where he is?’

‘Ain’t you got records for that?’ the woman asked.

Ripley this time, ‘Our records show he lives here.’

‘Yeah, he did, until two weeks back. Jase checked himself in. I'm his neighbor. I been cleaning this place once a week since he left.'

Ella had to backtrack. Something wasn’t adding up. ‘Checked himself in? How do you mean?’

‘To the madhouse. Jase lost his marbles. He’s gone to some fancy schmancy place in Vernon to get his head together.’

Ella's mind raced. ‘Madhouse?’ She repeated, her voice softening.

‘Yeah. I ain’t got the name. Meadow-something or other. Look it up.’

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