CHAPTER EIGHT
Ella pulled up outside Larry Bilston’s cul-de-sac home in Landisville armed with her partner and a flurry of questions. The landlord had failed to mention that both of these murders took place in homes he owned, something that would certainly seem relevant to the investigating authorities.
That meant there was a cloud of suspicion over him, and if he didn’t want Ella to drag him to the Lancaster precinct, he better have a good excuse.
She looked over at Paige, whose lips were the only part of her not flushed white.
“You want to stay back for this?” Ella asked.
Paige looked straight ahead out of the window, as though doing so might make her invisible.
“No. I’ll be okay. I can handle myself. It’ll be fine.”
She waited for confirmation. A reassurance that she would indeed be fine. Ella couldn’t be brutally honest but didn’t want to lie to her either. Things could easily get violent once they’d presented Larry with the new information.
“I don’t know how he’s going to react but we do need to be cautious. We’re not going to go in all guns blazing because that won’t get us anywhere. We present our findings, and if he reacts in a way that confirms our suspicions, that’s when we drag him out by the hair.”
“What if he’s got back-up? That brother of his?”
“Then I’ve got back-up too.” Ella slapped Paige’s knee. “If you want to make any headway in this game, you need to rile a few people up.”
Ella caught her reflection in the wing mirror and could have sworn she saw Mia Ripley staring back at her. That line was straight out of Mia’s book of simplified wisdom.
“Guns?” Paige asked.
“Always guns. Ripley once said to me ‘if I have to choose between my gun and my asshole then sew me up.’ I always keep that in mind in times like this.”
Paige psyched herself up by slamming her fists on the dashboard. “Let’s do it.”
The agents jumped out of the car and made their way across the cobblestone driveway. Ella noticed the lack of vehicles and prayed that Larry hadn’t fled.
Ella rang the buzzer and listened for life on the other side.
Nothing.
“Ellis. Check the windows. Discreetly.”
Paige nodded, took a few steps back and peered inside the home. She shook her head.
“No one in there.”
A roaring engine sounded down the street, coming closer to their destination at the end of the cul-de-sac. A gleaming red Toyota sped in their direction, mounted the driveway, and stopped a few feet away. Ella locked eyes with the driver.
He rolled down his window.
“You two again?” asked Larry Bilston.
“Mr. Bilston, could you step out of the car please? We need to talk to you.”
“I already talked with you,” Larry said, revving the engine. “What else do you want to know?”
“A few more things. Please kill the engine.”
“I don’t have time for this. I’ve got things to-,” Larry suddenly went quiet, his open jaw freezing in place.
Ella turned to her partner, who was locked in the Weaver stance, Glock gripped with fury. She had her pistol trained on the landlord.
“Jesus, Ellis,” said Ella.