Girl, Vanished (An Ella Dark FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 5)

by Blake Pierce

  The abyss beneath her grew smaller. Ella was suddenly overwhelmed with relief.

  “Oh, well, I must say I didn’t expect that response. Thank you for having mercy,” she said.

  “You’re most welcome, but there’s still the matter of you divulging vital information about an ongoing investigation to Mr. Campbell. Now that, I do have an issue with.”

  She wasn’t out of the woods yet, she thought. But her punishment was deserved, and she was ready to take it.

  “You’re absolutely right, sir. I shouldn’t have done that. It was reckless and unprofessional. Campbell seemed to have all the answers and I was desperate. But I’m not here to make excuses.”

  Edis picked up a brown folder and leafed through it. The sticker on the front declared it was the folder for an active case.

  “The good news is that since that case is now solved, the information Tobias has isn’t really an issue. But under other circumstances, this would be a disciplinary, maybe even a suspension without pay. Do I make myself clear? No more secret rendezvous with Campbell and no more divulging confidential details. Understand?”

  “Crystal clear, sir,” Ella said. “I assure you it won’t happen again.”

  “Good. Now, with that said, I can’t speak for Agent Ripley. Like I said, she and I have our differences of opinion, and this is one of them, which is why I’ve assigned you a new partner.”

  Ella involuntarily stood up. The frustration burned her limbs. “What? She actually went through with it?”

  Edis held up his palms. “Please Miss Dark, sit down. This isn’t a time for overreactions.”

  Ella forcefully rubbed her temples. “I can’t believe that. I thought she was just bluffing. After everything she and I have been through, all the times she didn’t believe my theories when I was right all along, and she ditches me?”

  In the back of her mind, Ella expected Mia to request a new partner, but the reality of it actually happening stirred up a new level of grief.

  “She requested it, Ella. There was nothing I could do.”

  This was it. Her career in the field coming to an abrupt end. She felt like she was on a treadmill chasing a never-ending finish line.

  “I have to call her,” Ella shouted. She pulled her phone out and dialed Mia’s cell phone. Her call history already showed 16 calls to Mia in the past two weeks, all of which went unanswered. Something told her that this one, under the bright lights of working hours, might prompt her to pick up. She burst out back into the foyer leaving Edis alone, foregoing all professionalism in the process. Emotion drove her. She listened to the dial tone. Two, three, four rings.

  With the phone pressed to her ear, she scanned the area, hoping that by some miracle Mia might appear. There were faces she recognized, but no sign of her ex-partner.

  The line cut out.

  Not voicemail. Her call had been rejected.

  “Hello?” said a voice. “Ella Dark?”

  Ella spun around to find a man staring at her. Shaved head, slightly taller than her. He was wearing a gray suit with a red tie. He had deep brown eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a skinny physique.

  She pocketed her phone. “Yes? That’s me.”

  The man reached out his hand. “Agent Byford. Good to finally meet you.”

  Ella retraced the last few minutes. Had she missed something? She’d never seen this man or heard his name before. She returned the gesture with a confused look.

  “Ella Dark. What do you mean, finally meet me?”

  Agent Byford passed his briefcase between his hands. “You haven’t been told?”

  The door behind them opened and Edis stuck his head out. Ella turned to him.

  “Miss Dark,” Edis said, “this is Agent Nigel Byford. He’s your new partner.”

  “Huh?” Ella said, startled. “New partner?”

  “Yes, now come back inside. You have a new case to worry about.”

  Ella glanced between Edis and this new agent. It all felt like a fever dream.

  ***

  Ella sat on one side of the office; Byford sat on the other. She eyed him up and down without making it too obvious. Was she expected to just hit the road with this stranger? At least she knew who Mia Ripley was beforehand, but she’d never heard of a Nigel Byford in her whole career. Maybe he was new, or was she here to train him?

  “Agent Byford,” said Edis, “I’m sure you’ve seen Miss Dark around. You’ve probably heard her name by now.”

  Byford looked up from his notepad. “Yes, I have. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice had a California twang. Soft-spoken but firm.

  “She’s four cases in, four cases down, so she’s on a good trajectory. Under your wing, we’re hoping we can keep it going.”

  “I’ll do everything I can, sir.”

  It looked like she was still the trainee. It stung a little.

  “Miss Dark, Agent Byford is another of our seasoned field veterans. He’s been with us longer than I can remember.”

  “Fifteen years, sir. Hoping for fifteen more.”

  Ella had to wonder why she’d never heard his name before. She decided she’d get to that when she had time to chat.

  “Good. Well, what we’ve got here is something very strange,” Edis said. “Newark, Delaware. We’ve got two dead bodies. The first was killed three nights ago, the second one last night. Local police have called us in due to the, shall we say, bizarre nature of the crimes.”

  Edis threw a brown folder to each of the agents. Ella opened it and scanned the pages. The first thing that drew her attention was the graphic crime scene photos of the first victim. The first picture showed a middle-aged man dead in his chair, throat slashed, blood dousing his torso. The next photo was a close-up of his face.

  “Oh my God. Are those…coins?” Ella asked.

  “Yes, they are,” Edis said. “Our unsub seems to have a very unique signature.”

  Ella thought about it. If Mia was here, she’d say that placing coins in the eyes was part of the ritual, not the signature. Ella let it slide. She scanned her memory bank for historical serial killers who’d focused on the eyes and came up with two names. She did the same for coins and found nothing.”

  “Interesting,” said Byford. “The coins might be symbolic.”

  Ella let the moment hang in the air. Such a comment needed elaboration, surely. None came.

  Yeah, you reckon? she thought.

  “Both men were killed in their homes, and both were of similar age. The unsub slashed their throats then placed coins in their eyes, postmortem. Local teams are securing the second crime scene as we speak. They’re also waiting on forensic reports from the first one. Dark, Byford, any ideas?”

  “None as of yet,” Byford jumped in. “I just need some time to organize my thoughts. There’s a lot to take in.”

  Ella had plenty of ideas but didn’t want to blurt them all out straight away. But she also wanted to improve her graces with Edis given their recent troubles. “These coins could represent a number of things, but I’m more concerned with the killing method.”

  Byford looked up from his file. “Why’s that?”

  “A single slash to the throat and no other lacerations. It suggests he can blitz attack his victims with precision or subdue them without force. It means he’s skilled, cunning, and able to invade homes without being detected He isn’t just some run-of-the-mill sociopath. We’re dealing with a capable, organized psychopath hell-bent on sending some kind of twisted message.”

  Byford nodded. “I can see we’re going to have a lot to talk about.”

  What did that mean? Ella hadn’t taken a liking to this new guy. She never believed the old adage about first impressions, but she was starting to.

  “We are indeed,” she said.

  “I need you both out there pronto,” said Edis. “Admin have already arranged your flights and motels. When you get there, I want you to meet with the local PD and they’ll fill you in. A crime like this is going to stir up a lot of fear
. That means the press are going to come down hard on us, and it’s me who answers their questions. I don’t need to tell you that we need this perpetrator caught yesterday.”

  “Understood, sir,” Byford said. “I’m on it.” He turned to Ella. “Should we convene at the airport?”

  Ella nodded. “Alright. See you there.”

  This guy wasn’t giving her much to work with. Should they meet on the plane? In the lounge? She didn’t question it. This was her case to solve, she thought. Her chance to show she could do this on her own.

  Byford made his way to the door. Ella collected her bag and followed.

  “Miss Dark, could you stay behind for a moment?” Edis asked.

  Ella reluctantly turned around. “Of course, sir.” She nodded goodbye to her new partner and shut the door, feeling a little rude doing so. “What is it you need?”

  He ushered her back towards his desk then perched himself on it. “Nigel Byford is a very good agent. He’s what I call a field general, so you’ll be in safe hands when it comes to procedures and legalities.”

  “I have no doubt. He seems very level-headed.”

  “Very much so. But he’s originally from counterterrorism. He can negotiate his way out of life and death situations like no one else, but he doesn’t have the…” Edis searched for the word. “Insight? That you might have.”

  “I see,” Ella said. Was Edis prepping her for something? This seemed a strange conversation to have. “So he’s not a behavioral expert?”

  “Not in regard to the extreme psychopathic or psychotic minds. He understands twisted fundamentalist minds better than anyone on our books, but domestic serial killers are a relatively new avenue for him.”

  “I understand. So, should I guide him as much as he guides me? Is that what you mean?”

  “A little. You also don’t need reminding that this is your first case without Ripley by your side. If you come back victorious, who’s to say what that might do for you?”

  The thought had already crossed Ella’s mind. Her previous cases all had Mia’s name attached to them, so she was the focal point, she was the star. If Ella solved this without Mia’s involvement, that could put her on the same level. Not to mention, it could prompt Mia to contact her again. Maybe earn some of Mia’s respect back in the process.

  “I’m on it, sir. I’ll do everything I can to bring this case home. You have my word.”

  Ella grabbed her bag and headed straight to the airport. She was back in the game, and nothing felt better.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Mia Ripley stood inside the top floor apartment in Manhattan. The body of a young man lay on a plush gray sofa, two gaping holes in either side of his skull. Some forensic technicians swabbed the area while Mia took in her surroundings.

  Such a lovely building, home to retired bankers and young professionals mostly. But in places like this, or any lavish apartment complex in any major city, there was always a consistency: suicide. Mia walked around the one-floor home, admiring the décor, scrutinizing the contents left behind. On a coffee table in front of the man sat a remote control. Beside that was a glass of water, and next to that was a fishing magazine.

  Lodged in the man’s right hand was a .22 caliber pistol.

  Mia moved back to the lounge where the technicians were finishing up. She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Thoughts?” she asked.

  “City boys and suicide. Name a more iconic duo,” Melissa said.

  So far, Melissa Santos hadn’t offered much in the way of ideas. The entire plane ride here she’d been mostly silent, staring at her phone for a good portion of the journey. Now, she seemed to dismiss the scene with a simple assumption.

  “Do you think?”

  “For sure. Look at the arrangements. He has bullet holes on either side of his head. This guy was probably a Wall Street executive struggling with the financial collapse. This was his way out.”

  Mia looked back towards the kitchen at a half-buttered knife sitting on the surface. She walked over to it, examined it, then checked the fridge and cupboard contents. Alcohol bottles, mostly expensive rums lined the shelves. Chocolate, sugary goods everywhere. On the kitchen surface was a 200-pack of cigarettes. Mia returned to the lounge and instinctively looked towards the plug sockets around the room, and after spotting two, her suspicions were confirmed.

  “Tell me why this was a suicide,” Mia said to Melissa. “I mean, it looks pretty open and shut, but we need to back it up with evidence. More importantly, tell me why this was the third Manhattan suicide in the span a week.”

  Suicide wasn’t contagious and in the rare cases it seemed to be, there was always something else afoot. If it was a standalone suicide, there’d be no need for FBI intervention. This was the first clue Mia was trying to sneak into her new partner.

  Melissa was a new recruit, plucked from the FBI’s Cyber Security division. She was 25 years old, tall, blonde and in Mia’s opinion, dressed like a librarian. She’d shown promise, and an interest in moving into field work, so Ripley handpicked her to accompany on this new case.

  Only a few hours in, Mia was already regretting it.

  “There’s a gun in his hand,” Melissa said. “Bullet holes in his head. He’s obviously single judging by this apartment. Plus, this guy was a junkie. There’s some white powder on the table which I’m guessing is cocaine. Plus, joint ends in an ashtray.”

  “So he liked drugs,” Mia said.

  “He got high to build up the courage then pulled the trigger. Bang, ” Melissa poised her fingertips like a gun and clicked her thumb. Mia thought it was a bit distasteful, especially for a newbie.

  Mia pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the victim. On her home screen she saw another missed call from Ella. Did that woman not get the message? By now, Ella would have learned of Mia’s new partner, and it would have kicked Ella right in the gut. Not her problem.

  Mia had no time for sympathy, not considering everything Ella had done. She brought this whole situation on herself and for that, Mia couldn’t apologize or empathize. Consequences had actions and Ella had to learn that the hard way.

  For a moment, Mia wondered how Ella might view this scene. Would she have an outlandish theory? Would she label it a suicide too? Or would she look at the clues, at the evidence, and come to the same conclusion Mia had?

  Mia guessed the latter, but even so, Ella was gone from her life and wasn’t going to be invited back. Mia had molded Ella into a competent agent, and it had taken considerable time and considerable hardships. She couldn’t expect Melissa to be on the same level on her first day.

  But she just wished that Melissa had a little more awareness. Maybe it was a young person thing. Entitlement came first, hard work second. Or was she just being presumptuous? Mia cleared her thoughts and focused on the task at hand. She wasn’t going to tell Melissa what to look for but decided to prompt her in that direction.

  “Put yourself in this man’s shoes,” Mia said. “What was he thinking when he did it? Why did he do it here? Why now? Is there anything missing from this picture that doesn’t make sense? Put the pieces together and see what comes up. You might be surprised.”

  Melissa furiously typed something on her phone. Mia glanced over and saw she was texting someone. Melissa pocketed it and glanced around the room again, looking a little lost this time.

  “Stress?” Melissa asked.

  “Of what? This guy seems to have done pretty well for himself. He’s young, good looking and successful. What’s he got to be stressed about?”

  Melissa bent down and inspected the contents of the table. Magazine, water, TV remote. It was a perfect scene. A little too perfect. She held up her hands in defeat. “Sorry, I’m not seeing anything out of the ordinary.”

  Mia tried not to audibly sigh. “Have you ever heard the term staging?” she asked.

  “Of course. Why?”

  “What does it mean?”

  Melissa looked confused. “Setting the scene. Making
something look good. Like a show home.”

  Mia waited for the lightbulb to go off in her new partner’s head. She’d just said the exact words she was looking for. Silence took over and they were back to square one.

  “Santos, the facts are right in front of us. There are at least four pieces of evidence here that show what really happened. Look more closely at this picture. There are juxtapositions here that stand out. It’s our job to find them.”

  Was she being too hard on her? Mia thought back to her first case with Ella when she’d seen the truth immediately. The Ed Gein copycat. She remembered Ella finding that skinned face in the bottom of a barrel where no one else thought to look.

  Melissa sauntered around the apartment, perhaps more for effect than genuine investigation. Mia saw right through it. She gave her points for trying.

  “I’m sorry, partner, I’m not seeing it,” Melissa said without an ounce of concern. “It all looks cut and dry to me.”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what to look at. The butter knife in the kitchen, the plug sockets in the walls and the bullet wounds in this guy’s head. Look at them. One of these things isn’t like the others.”

  Melissa moved back and forth between the things she mentioned. Her movements reminded her of one of those robot vacuums that did a sudden 360 when it hit a wall. Give her time, Mia thought. You can’t pick this job up in a day.

  Mia moved over to the giant window at the apartment’s far end. It offered an incredible view of the city, almost anxiety-inducing given the sheer height they were at. Below, people and cars moved around like ants. To her, New York was only one rung below California in terms of places she didn’t want to be. She glanced back to find Melissa running her bare fingers around the victim’s bullet wounds.

  “Santos. Be careful. Put your gloves on before doing that.”

  “I barely touched it. Don’t worry.”

  Mia dismissed the comment. “Any thoughts yet?”

  “Am I supposed to be seeing something other than the obvious? Because I’m struggling here.”