Page 48 of Girl, Remembered

A momentary pause, followed by a static-filled response. ‘I’m right by it. What’s wrong?’

‘Open her shutter and ask if she’s willing to see a visitor. A family member, apparently.’

‘Roger. Who should I say is visiting?’

‘Officer Terrance Dever, formerly of the Louisiana State Police,’ offered Dever.

‘You catch that? Officer Terrance Dever, formerly of the Louisiana State Police.’

‘Yup. One second.’

Nobody spoke. Ella caught herself straining toward the warden’s radio, as though the mere proximity might help her hear what was happening somewhere else in this building. The warden looked off absently into the distance as he awaited the response, and Dever – to his credit – kept wiping his palms down the front of his trousers. His earlier surge of confidence had now waned.

Officer Ferry’s radio crackled to life.

‘Ferry? You there?’

‘Yeah.’

Dever leaned closer and Ella followed suit. Her lips had gone dry. Her breath came short.

‘You’re not gonna believe this, but the baby just said her first words.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Across the D.C. Jail’s yellow-painted walkways, Officer Ferry led Ella and Dever to the cell where a voluntarily-mute woman was apparently waiting for them. Tracy Doyle hadn’t said a word since Luca had incapacitated her via monstrous use of a coffee machine, which was two weeks ago.

But Dever’s presence was, it seemed, enough to make Tracy talk, and the fact Dever didn’t do this two weeks ago was an internal pressure that would overflow when it had time to.

Around a corner, Ella saw an officer keeping guard outside the cell at the end of the row. Ferry made a beeline toward him. When they arrived, Ferry asked, ‘She still cooperative?’

‘No. All she said was bring him in, then she went quiet again.’

Ferry turned and gave Ella and Dever his best good luck, you’re gonna need it look. Then he signaled towards the rectangular partition in the door that gave Ella a clear view of the orange jumpsuit-clad blonde woman inside. She was perched on the edge of the bed with her hands clasped together in prayer. Ella had assumed both Doyle sisters to be Godless because both had deigned to become their own gods rather than leave punishment of those they deemed deserving to a higher power. However, the closer Ella got to these strange two women, the more she realized she didn’t know them at all.

Dever stepped in front of Ella and made a barrier with his arm. Ferry and the other officer stood off to the side of the door while Ella stayed back. Dever approached alone, and even from this distance, Ella saw the instant change in Doyle when her apparent savior appeared at the glass.

The pass-through slot beneath the window rattled open. Ferry’s doing.

Dever spoke first.

‘Tracy. Do you remember me?’

Ella positioned herself for maximum visibility. God, she hoped Dever knew what he was doing here, because there were three killers – four including Doyle – poised to strike at any time. If this went wrong, or turned out to be a complete waste of time, the inevitable tidal wave of blood that arrived by morning would stain her hands. Through the glass, Ella could make out the burn mark on Tracy’s cheek where the coffee had scalded her.

Tracy locked eyes with Dever. They narrowed for a second before turning to full-on teary. Tracy rose and stood as stiff as an iron bar, then ambled toward the door and placed a hand on the glass.

No words came.

‘Tracy? I need you to speak to me,’ Dever tried again.

Come on, you bitch. Talk.

Doyle wiped her wet eyes with the sleeve of her jumpsuit. She hadn’t looked beyond Dever to the FBI agent behind him. Her world had reduced down to this man, and from her body language, it sounded as though everything Dever had told Ella tonight was true.

‘T… Terry? It’s you?’

Yes!