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

by Blake Pierce

  All her energy left her body and she felt to her knees in hopelessness. This was nothing her medical training could fix. No one could fix this. Even the most masterful surgeon would consider this a lost cause on sight.

  Jimmy sat slumped in his chair, dried blood coating his neck and t-shirt. He was a lifeless specimen, something Tessa had seen plenty of in her time, but never once did she think the body would belong to the man she loved.

  A second wave of despair came when she realized she’d walked right past him only a few minutes ago. She scrambled around for her phone to call the police, but before her jittering hands could dial the number, she saw something that seemed out of place, even for a morbid scene like this.

  She saw a sign of life in her husband.

  In her frenzy, she hadn’t seen it right away. She had been too engulfed with panic. She reluctantly shuffled closer, wiping away the tears with her forearm as she did.

  Then came a third wave of despair when she realized it wasn’t a sign of life at all. Jimmy’s eyes reflected beams of golden light, as though death had transformed them into tiny mirrors.

  On closer scrutiny, it had.

  Because Jimmy now had silver coins where his eyes should have been.

  Tessa lost all basic functions: voice, mobility, cognitive thought. She managed to dial the emergency service number, and when it connected, all she could do was scream on the line.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ella Dark sat on her apartment floor, paperwork piled high on every side. She checked her phone.

  One message from Mark.

  I’ll pick you up in 10 mins, followed by a row of XX’s.

  Ella checked the time. Seven-thirty AM. She’d woken up two hours earlier after a bizarre dream in which she was singing to a packed audience with an orchestra; only when she turned around, the musicians had no faces. She hoped it was just her imagination taking liberties rather than a metaphorical manifestation of her thoughts.

  She was ready to go; but before she left, she had to make a dent in this paperwork.

  Two weeks ago, she’d apprehended the sex worker killer down in Baltimore after a grueling battle. She’d been the one to physically take him down, but it had been a team effort between her, Agent Mia Ripley and Agent Mark Balzano to get the circumstances right.

  The wounds were beginning to heal, at least the physical ones. She’d suffered a few injuries, but the FBI doctors had set her right. However, the mental wounds were still an inescapable abyss that seemed to widen by the day.

  Agent Ripley had discovered Ella’s deceit. Ella had been conversing with incarcerated serial killer Tobias Campbell, something that she’d gone to great lengths to keep from her partner given Ripley’s history with him. Ripley had been the one to take Campbell down fifteen years earlier, but it wasn’t without its traumas. Ella had kept her partner in the dark out of concern for her reaction, and Ripley had reacted exactly as Ella expected when she finally found out. Worse, in fact.

  But while Ella still called Ripley her partner in her own thoughts, the more appropriate term was ex-partner. Ripley told Ella they couldn’t be a team anymore. Ripley’s last words to Ella before she stormed off was that she was putting in a request for a new trainee.

  So far, Ella didn’t know if Ripley had made good on her claim. She hadn’t seen or talked to her in two weeks, although it wasn’t for Ella’s lack of trying. She’d sent texts, made calls, and tried to catch her at FBI HQ to no avail.

  Ella wanted nothing more than to apologize, even though words really couldn’t convey just how much of a fool she felt. Her career in the field might have come to a close, and while she hated that fact, it was what she deserved. Not only did she go behind her partner’s back, the same woman who’d saved her life multiple times over the past six months, but it was laughable to think she could meet with one of the country’s most notorious criminals and keep it secret. It had been Campbell himself who’d divulged the details to Ripley. He’d sent her a letter, explaining everything in full. She had opened herself up to a human predator and he’d reacted exactly as one might expect. It was no one’s fault but her own.

  And it wasn’t just Campbell’s written acknowledgments that haunted her day and night. It was Campbell himself, at least through proxy. Campbell was a spider at the center of a giant web, and he had contacts all across the country and possibly further. His disciples had eyes on her, watching her every movement and leaving dead animals on her doorstep. Every time Ella left the house, she was dreadfully wary of anyone who passed her, any stranger who made idle conversation, any leaflet distributor who shamelessly invaded her space. Any one of them could be a Campbell disciple, and one day, one of them would be.

  Her last cause of concern regarded that of her deceased father. Twenty-five years ago, she’d found her old man dead in his bed and the perpetrator had never been uncovered. Two weeks ago, she’d tracked down a man named Richie Cunningham, who sources told her was an old foe of her dad’s. Richie denied any involvement in her dad’s murder but told Ella that her dad had some serious money issues. He owed the wrong people, allegedly. It was the first Ella heard of such a thing, but she was going to dig deeper regardless. The piles of paperwork that lay beside her were her father’s possessions. Bills, receipts, letters. If there was something here that scratched the surface of the truth, she’d find it.

  But concentration didn’t come easy, not with the smorgasbord of troubles weighing her down. It was getting late now, but she still had the paperwork from 1993 to 1995 to go through. She took a few shots of whiskey and lime to keep the tiredness at bay, a trick her ex-partner taught her. The lime to boost concentration levels, and the whiskey because it was whiskey. She picked up the next pile and leafed through it for any discriminate documents, something that didn’t follow the usual format of soulless greeting, request for money, informal signoff. The edges of the paper became a blur as her tiredness took over, but then the bottom half of the stack fell from her hands. Ella glanced at the yellowed piece of paper laying on the top of the pile.

  A different size from the rest. Not standard paper size, or a standard letterhead.

  And it was entirely handwritten.

  Some of the ink had faded with time, but the content was mostly legible.

  Ken, consider this your acknowledgment of borrowed monies. Must be repaid in full, with ten percent interest by 05/25/95. OWA.

  Ella almost dropped the rest of the paperwork when she saw the date.

  Five days before her father had been killed.

  Her hands trembled as she reached out for it, but then her detective instincts kicked in. She gently picked it up by its corner, held it and scrutinized every inch of it. Written in black ink, only a few sentences on the front and nothing on the back. If this had been left among this paperwork for two decades, there was a chance the creator’s fingerprints were still on it somewhere.

  But what was this anyway?

  Some kind of receipt? And a handwritten one at that? No reputable establishment would use such irregular paper, so was this some kind of backdoor transaction? And why was there no mention of the actual amount?

  Ella quickly flicked through the rest of the paperwork to see if she could find any similar documents. None. Nothing that resembled this one. It was a one-off.

  Something wasn’t right about this. And the biggest question was – who was OWA? Someone’s initials? The name of an organization? She had some digging to do. She put the document in a plastic wallet to keep it safe then stashed it away.

  It was Monday now, and that meant it was back to life in the office, back to the world of Intelligence. But any second that she had to spare, she planned on hunting down Mia and spilling her apologies out. It had been two weeks now, and surely Mia couldn’t stay mad at her forever.

  Ella’s phone pinged again.

  Outside! x

  Ella hurried to the door, leaving behind her stacks of files. Since they’d met, she’d taken a real liking to Mark Balzano. One da
te turned into two, and two turned into a casual relationship. Now, she wasn’t desperate to make things official, at least not yet, because such things came with time. She wasn’t one for jumping into relationships, especially with someone she worked with, although such circumstances were a new venture to her.

  Outside her complex, spring was in full sway, but the pleasant temperatures and moderate sunlight did very little to quench her worries. Mark’s sedan was waiting right at the door. Ella jumped in and greeted Mark with a kiss on the lips.

  “You’re early,” she said. “Punctuality is a very attractive quality in a man.”

  “Five minutes ahead of schedule. Right on schedule,” Mark said.

  Mark was a seasoned agent but was currently sidelined due to an injury. He’d been assigned to administrative work for the time being, although it didn’t stop him from helping Ella out in the field when she needed it last time. He had his FBI-issue jacket on today, and he’d tied his hair back in a stumpy ponytail. It was a bold move, but he got away with it.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked. “Did you find anything in your dad’s stuff?”

  She liked Mark because he understood her. They had the same approaches and philosophies when it came to saving lives and exacting justice, and it didn’t hurt that he had a chiseled jawline she could admire for hours.

  There was just one thing that concerned her.

  They drove out on the main road towards the freeway. FBI HQ was a forty-five-minute venture, double in rush hour.

  “A lot of it was useless, but I did find one thing. Some kind of receipt.”

  “A receipt? For what?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Ella said. “It was handwritten and just mentioned borrowed monies.”

  Mark turned the radio dial down. “That could be anything. It could be a friend of his just being anal after lending him ten dollars. Or it could be a joke.”

  Ella considered it. “I suppose. But why would he keep it?”

  “Sentimental reasons? I don’t know. I’m just guessing. But it’s definitely worth checking out.”

  “Absolutely. I’m going to try it for prints first. If nothing comes back, then I’ll try matching the handwriting. Then if there’s still nothing…”

  Mark slammed the brakes on as another vehicle swerved in front of them. Ella clutched the armrest as the car abruptly slowed to a crawl.

  She braced herself, predicting backlash on Mark’s part.

  “Damn. Close one,” he said.

  Ella waited a second for the moment to pass. If there was one thing about Mark that she didn’t quite get, it was his temper. On their first date, Mark had berated a restaurant customer for almost knocking his drink over. A minor inconvenience, but one Mark blew up to extravagant proportions. Ella brushed it off as a one-off and Mark apologized profusely, but since then, she was on alert around him. In the past two weeks, he’d been fine, but the worry was still there.

  “Monday drivers,” Ella said. “Typical.”

  “Rushing to work to sit in a cubicle for eight hours.”

  Ella shrugged. “Maybe. He might be a doctor or something though.”

  “Doubt it. It was a woman.”

  Ella scratched her head. Some lame attempt at humor? “That’s a bit…”

  “Joke,” Mark interrupted. “I’m kidding. Just trying to lighten the mood. I’m a bit worried about you. What with all your recent troubles.”

  Ella sped through a series of responses, landing on frustration. It was too early for this. “I’m fine. I just need time to process everything, but I appreciate the concern.”

  They moved got onto the freeway. It looked clear for a few miles but no doubt the traffic would creep in closer to the city.

  “What are you gonna be doing from now on?” Mark asked. “You’re still working out in the field occasionally, right?”

  “Same thing as the last two weeks. Working in Intelligence until the director calls on me. If he calls on me. He hasn’t said a word to me since Ripley ditched me. I’m starting to think my special agent days are behind me.”

  “Retired in what, less than a year? You lasted longer than some people.”

  Ella stared out at the passing buildings. Familiar sights she’d seen a thousand times, but they brought her an indescribable comfort.

  “I want to do it a lot longer. Working behind a desk just isn’t the same as actually being out there.”

  Mark rolled down his window and rested his elbow in the gap, the other hand on the wheel. “Tell me about it. You actually feel like you’re making a difference when you’re in the thick of it, don’t you?”

  “One hundred percent,” Ella sighed. “Now I just feel like I’m waiting. Waiting for bad news, or something worse. It sucks.”

  “If you want to help me out, I can make a request. You get to be a little closer to the action but still keep your distance. Like window shopping.”

  Ella thought about it for a second but didn’t like the idea. She was better off where she knew she had a job.

  “Thanks for the offer but I don’t think it would work. At least I know what I’m doing in Intelligence. Well, I think I do. It’s all been a bit of a blur recently.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Things will work out.” Mark reached over and rubbed her thigh. “The director’s a busy man. He’s got governors on his ass, politicians, government big wigs. You think he’s got time for a nobody like you?”

  Ella glanced at Mark. Her narrowed eyes met his. He smiled.

  “Kidding. Come on. You know what I mean.”

  She shook her head and laughed. “With a sense of humor like that, you’re wasted at the bureau.”

  Mark nodded. “You think I’d make a good standup?”

  Ella’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. “I was thinking more funeral director.” She stared at the notification, suddenly transported to a different plane of existence. Her heart stopped for a second.

  Mark caught wind of her change. “Problem?” he asked.

  She heard his words but didn’t register them. The thoughts came thick and fast, and she had to roll down the window so the fresh air could cleanse them.

  “Turns out he’s not too busy for a nobody like me.”

  “The director wants you?”

  Ella read the message aloud.

  Come to my office immediately. We need to have a discussion.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Inside the FBI offices, Ella stood outside Director William Edis’s office. She could see his blurred outline behind the frosted glass, hunched over his desk in a pose of professionalism that induced new dread in her. She knocked with a trembling hand.

  By now, Edis would have had time to ruminate on recent events. Mia would have told Edis everything, out of both spite and professional courtesy. Edis must know about Ella’s meetings with Tobias Campbell, but it was only a month ago that Edis gave Ella the choice to see Campbell or not. She’d done it, but the crime was that she didn’t inform the higher-ups. She also spilled details of ongoing investigations to the killer, and Edis would no doubt have something to say about that.

  “Come in,” Edis bellowed from behind the door.

  Ella opened slowly and entered. “Morning, Mr. Edis.”

  “Miss Dark. Please sit down.”

  He looked like he’d lost a few pounds since she last saw him. His stocky frame still obscured most of the window behind his desk, but there was new shape to his usually circular face. The rumor around HQ was that he was going through a divorce so maybe this was a side-effect. He pushed his glasses up with one finger and motioned to the leather chair against the wall.

  Ella took a seat. Her heart raced like a trapped bird in her chest, and she wondered whether this might be the last time she ever saw the interior of this office. Maybe this would be her last day at the FBI. A seven-year career, from Intelligence Analyst to Special Agent to disgraced ex-employee. A common career path but not one she ever envisioned for herself.

  Sh
e tried her best to stay calm. She kept her feet flat on the ground and controlled her breathing. She had an answer for everything; God knows she’d rehearsed her lines enough over the past two weeks.

  Edis sat back in his chair and looked up to the ceiling. He took a deep breath. Ella braced herself.

  “I’m sure you know what this is about,” Edis said.

  Ella nodded. She clasped her hands beneath her chin. “Yes, I do, sir.”

  “Agent Ripley has informed me of everything. Everything. So, I’m not sure how to put this.”

  “Please, sir, I can handle it. I know I made a big mistake. I’m ready to deal with the consequences.”

  The director cracked his knuckles then tilted his head to one side. “What you did was foolish and irresponsible. Agent Ripley had every right to suspend your working relationship.”

  “I understand why she did it,” said Ella, somehow holding herself together. This felt like the lead-up to a final crushing blow. Ella grabbed her leg to stop it twitching. She wished Edis would just get it over and done with.

  “But it should be said that Agent Ripley and I regularly have a difference of opinion. Personally, I don’t blame you for what you did.”

  The dread numbed a little. Ella wasn’t sure she was hearing him right. “Excuse me? Really?” she asked.

  William Edis blew a gust of air out of his nose. “You had an opportunity; you took it. Yes, I wish you would have been a little more transparent about things. I know it was a personal invitation from Campbell, but given his history with Agent Ripley, I think you had a duty to keep her informed. You had a moral duty, but no legal duty, so it’s a tricky one for me.”

  “Sir, I understand, but the reason I didn’t tell Agent Ripley is because I didn’t want to hurt her. I thought I would meet Campbell, learn a few things from him and part ways. Nothing more. I didn’t know the extent it would go.”

  “I get it, Miss Dark. You’re young and hungry, desperate to make a difference. I was young and hungry once too, before paperwork and politics got the better of me. If this was thirty years ago and I was in your shoes, I’d have done the same thing. I might have told my partner, but I’d have done the same thing.”