Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (grave mercy TXT) 📗

“But that’s just a theory, Elle,” Martín said, hands on her shoulders. “It could still be the real TCK; it could be that he always intended to target you, to get revenge for your escape.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Elle shouted. Then she laughed, feeling on the edge of hysteria. “Really, it doesn’t matter who he is. Whoever has Natalie, we need to find him and stop him before he kills her, and I have no idea when he will. Amanda died early, so there’s no reason to believe he will stick with the pattern now. I have turned this over in my head from every possible direction, and I still have too many questions and no answers.”

Tears ran down Elle’s cheeks. “I failed her. I’ve been weak, fragile.” A memory leapt into her mind like a deer running onto the road. He had called her fragile, while he wiped her brow and pretended to nurse her back to health. He seemed so caring then, so far from the man who had ordered her to polish his shoes with her tears.

Martín’s deep brown eyes were glassy as he took her hands in his. “Okay, you’re right. But you’re not fragile, mi vida. You have not failed her. You know everything there is to know about TCK, and even if this guy is just an imitator, you can beat him. You have beaten the real deal. Isn’t that what you said on your podcast today?”

Blinking, Elle looked up to meet his gaze. Martín gave her a wry smile and held up his phone. “I know you were probably going to tell me tonight, but I’m afraid about a thousand people beat you to it. I’ve been getting calls and visits from reporters at reception all day.”

“I’m . . . I’m sorry. I should have called.”

“You know, I’ve always encouraged you to tell people who you really are,” he said. “I understood that you thought it would make other people think you were weak or damaged, but for me it’s the opposite. When you first told me what you had been through, I saw clearly how strong you really were. I was only surprised you put it out there like that.”

She squeezed his hand. “After Ayaan told me the killer might have been inspired by me, I just snapped. As soon as I saw the news was reporting Amanda’s death, I recorded it and told Tina to publish it right away.”

“Can you understand why I’m not thrilled about you going on your podcast to challenge a serial killer in front of hundreds of thousands of listeners?”

Elle bit the inside of her cheek. “I see your point, but it’s not like he doesn’t know where we live already. I wanted him to know that I’m not afraid of him.”

Martín sighed and shook his head. Then he put a hand on the back of her head, drawing her in for a kiss. “You’re very brave—no one could deny that. But there is a difference between being brave and being reckless.”

“How would you classify this?” she asked.

“I’m not sure yet.” He paused for a moment, studying her face. Then he asked, “So, do Ayaan and Sam know about you now?”

Elle shifted on the desk, looking at the floor. “I haven’t told them directly.”

“They’re going to find out eventually. Even if they don’t get a chance to listen to the episode, it’s already everywhere online.”

“I know. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

In her coat pocket, Elle felt her phone vibrate. Tina’s name flashed on the screen, and she swiped to answer it. “What’s up? Did something shake loose with one of the guys from Mitchell?”

Tina’s voice sounded strained. “No, nothing that I could see. But I thought you should know . . . Elle, I finally tracked down the IP where a bunch of the threatening emails came from.” She took a breath. “It belongs to Simple Mechanic. Duane and Leo’s auto shop.”

Elle’s eyes flicked to Martín, who could clearly hear through the phone. His face paled. The memory struck her then, the reason the words in that message she’d sent to Ayaan nagged at her so much.

Careful what you wish for.

Duane had said the same thing when she and Sam interviewed him in the shop.

“I think Duane might be your copycat.”

39

Elle

January 19, 2020

When Elle got to the station, Sam’s office was empty. Ayaan’s wasn’t. The commander was leaning over her desk with her head in her hands when Elle walked up to her open door. She hesitated. Ayaan’s fingers rubbed slow circles on her temples, as if she had a headache. Her black blazer was rumpled, flecked with white cat hairs. It was jarring, seeing her anything but perfectly put together. Finally, Elle knocked on the door frame, and Ayaan looked up with a start.

“Oh, Elle. Hi.” The commander waved her in, and Elle took a seat across from her. “Did you call me? Sorry, I haven’t checked my messages.”

“I tried, just to make sure you were still here. Glad I caught you.”

“What’s going on?”

Elle fidgeted in her seat. The list she and Martín had put together back at the morgue grew damp in her hands. It was all the evidence they could think of linking Duane Grove to Leo’s and Amanda’s murders, as well as Natalie’s kidnapping. Tina had promised to forward the IP information she had found to Ayaan.

“I think I know who the copycat is.” Elle put the paper on the desk, slid it across to Ayaan. “Duane Grove. He was the main person of interest in Leo Toca’s murder, the guy I saw standing over the body. Sam said they never had enough to hold him on, and that he was captured on a gas station security camera a few minutes before the murder, but I think that can be explained. He’s criminally sophisticated enough to have gotten away with running a chop shop for years without getting arrested, so I’m sure he