“We had a real struggle at the end but we got him. Close call, though.”
“Dead or alive?”
“Alive.”
“The streak continues,” Ripley said.
“For now. Right? Are you at the hospital?”
“Of course I am. I’ve tried breaking out but they keep bringing me back.”
“How inconsiderate.”
“Of them,” said Mia. “Where are you?”
“Just pulling into my apartment. Ben’s waiting for me.”
“Ooh la-la.”
“Ha. I was going to come and see you but it took longer to get back than I thought. It’s getting late now. Am I okay to come see you first thing in the morning?”
“Don’t come here. Stay away from central D.C. There’s some commotion going down.”
“Is there? That might have been why the traffic was so horrendous. It was crammed for miles.”
The director had given Ripley the news over the phone. Central D.C. was rife with gang activity. Riots, fights, shoot ups. Even worse was that it involved the perpetrators Ripley had busted on her solo case in Manhattan a few weeks ago.
“You know that guy who came for me? His cronies have come to town. Caused a big ruckus in the city. Police and FBI agents galore. It’s been a mess apparently.”
“Christ, is everything under control?”
“I think so. Just stay away. Go straight from your place to mine. Don’t go near HQ.”
“Shall do. Are you healing up okay?” asked Ella.
“Close enough. That attack has set me back a day but I’ll be out tomorrow, with any luck.”
“Good to hear. Just reached my door. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan. Stay safe,” Ripley said. She ended the call.
Ripley lay back in the darkness and, out of some law enforcement instinct, pulled up a map of D.C. in her mind. Right now, the majority of the D.C. police and FBI forces were engaged in mini-warfare, around two miles from FBI HQ. If Ripley was active, she’d probably have been pulled there too.
Was all this something to do with her? Apparently, this suspect of Mia’s that she’d only had minimal contact with had summoned his gang to cause havoc in the D.C. streets. Why? She wasn’t even the one who arrested him. She’d just uncovered his activities over in Manhattan.
It seemed overkill.
Unnecessary.
Unless there was a master plan at the core.
And now, Ella had been summoned to her apartment, around ten miles east of the city center.
If Ella needed back-up, there’d be no one available. If there was, it would take them twenty, thirty minutes to get to her.
Ella’s guard was down. Defenseless. She was in that post-case state where you felt invincible, but in actual fact you were more vulnerable than ever.
Someone with a deep understanding of the human condition would know this. FBI profilers, psychologists, mental health experts, psychiatrists.