Girl Hunted (An Ella Dark FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 3) Read online

  “I’m fine right here,” Ella said, keeping her voice strong and firm. She was fascinated by this creature, but he needed to understand that she was in charge.

  “Good. I trust you found me easily enough.”

  “No. I live in Virginia. It was a long journey, so the least you can do is tell me what you want from me.”

  “I’m surprised you showed up. Most people, even those in your profession, would jump at the chance to refuse me.”

  Tobias began to walk slowly around his cell, turning his back to her. He reminded Ella of an exotic tiger in a zoo or a historical artifact in a museum. In either case, she played the part of the gawping spectator.

  He was soft spoken, even eloquent, thought Ella. She expected someone rough, trashy, a blue collar career criminal. Tobias was the opposite.

  “Because you said you have information.”

  Tobias ceased his pacing. He turned to Ella and smiled. “I’ve seen you. You’ve been around. William Edis thinks highly of you, doesn’t he?”

  She cast a sideways glance at Tobias. “I believe so.” She recalled what Warden Banks told her. Reveal as little information as possible.

  “Sending a trainee out into the field with no experience. Doesn’t it strike you as odd?”

  Ella shrugged. “At first, but not anymore. I have a partner. A good one.”

  “Oh yes, that old sweetheart. How is Agent Ripley? Still desperate to prove her dominance? Still angry at the world for leaving her behind? I bet she loves imparting her wisdom on you, as misguided as it may be.”

  “She’s fine,” Ella said. If Ripley knew Ella was here, talking about her to the man who nearly killed her, she dreaded to think how she’d react. Explosively, she imagined. “Are you going to tell me about your new information, Mr. Campbell?”

  “Not so fast,” he said. “I saw you on the TV last week. You caught that pesky little killer down in Seattle. If you’d have asked me, I could have told you who the culprit was immediately. And those copycat murders down in Louisiana. Pretty obvious modus operandi right from day one, wasn’t it? Although I admit, it helps that the pesky Louisiana killer had contact with me before he began his operation, too.”

  Ella waited a second before replying. She itched with curiosity but was desperate to keep an emotional distance. “You were in contact with that killer?”

  Tobias smirked. “I wouldn’t call him a friend, but I might have advised him on a thing or two. My point still stands regarding the modus operandi. And those Seattle killings? I could have told you who the culprit was within twenty-four hours.”

  “Not obvious at all. It took a while to piece things together.”

  Tobias moved closer to the glass box. He spoke through three circular holes. “Oh, how embarrassing for you,” he said. “Agent Dark, you and Agent Ripley look at these scenes with a clinical eye, but there’s nothing systematic about the act of murder. Killing is the rope across the spiritual abyss, between man and his failed aspirations. Psychological profiling is much less a learnable skill as it is something inherent, despite what hacks like Ressler and Ripley might tell you.”

  Ella didn’t quite know what to say. She thought about it for a moment. “How do you mean? I’ve learned it just fine.”

  “Don’t mistake fortune for ability.” Tobias beamed his crooked smile. “Only creators understand other creators. There isn’t a textbook in the world that can make you feel what we feel during the act of killing. FBI profilers are the art critics of law enforcement. Criticizing others yet they themselves are unable to draw a straight line.”

  Ella held Tobias’s stare. Barely a few minutes in his presence and he was already divulging his vile censure. He must have been waiting a while to let this frustration out.

  “I’m guessing you don’t get many visitors down here, Mr. Campbell.”

  “I do not.”

  “It shows. Unfortunately, I’m not here to listen to you berate my profession. I’m here at your request. Either divulge what you know, or I’ll be on my way.”

  “We both know that’s not true,” Tobias said. “You’re here because you want to be.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You’ve dreamt of a moment like this your whole life. It’s why you chose law enforcement over an easier profession. You didn’t fall into your job by accident, did you?”

  Ella surveyed the room, trying to imagine what it must be like to live in this place twenty-four-seven. Gray walls, sterile surroundings, total silence. It would be enough to drive anyone insane.

  “No, I worked hard to get here.”

  “That’s why you agreed to meet me. You think that by understanding the psychopathic mind you can avenge some perceived wrong in your life. You think it will keep you safe. What is it for you? A childhood trauma? Did a bad man stamp on your dog? Did your old man pay nightly visits to your bedroom while your mother was at the casino?”

  “No, nothing like that.”

  Tobias rested his hands atop his head, caressing the bones in his skull. “One more try,” he said, “and if I guess correctly, you have to tell me everything that happened. Deal?”

  Ella didn’t want to go down this route, but she was fascinated to hear his thoughts. “Deal.”

  “You flinched a little when I mentioned your old man. Let me guess, you lost him at a young age. Did he die in a car accident when you were a sprightly little kid? Did he owe money to the wrong people? Did you wake up and find him dead in his armchair?”

  She had to use all of her willpower to keep from lashing out, from screaming at Tobias to shut his mouth. There was no way he could know this. Hell, even Ella wasn’t sure what happened to her dad. She wasn’t going to give Tobias the satisfaction of a positive response, but even so, how was it possible he knew? A lucky guess?

  “You said one try, Mr. Campbell. That was three.”

  “Didn’t get the justice you felt you deserved, so now you’re desperate to get it for others. Correct?”

  Ella shook her head, putting on the best mask she could. “I’m afraid not. Not quite.” Ella wanted to get away from this topic immediately. Any further prying and this maniac might actually get close to the truth. “What are you painting back there?”

  Tobias moved to his easel and traced the outline of his drawing with his finger. “I’m painting the Winged Hussars,” he said, his smirk emerging once again.

  “What might one of those be?” Ella asked. Judging by Tobias’s grin, he enjoyed the fact that Ella didn’t know what he was talking about.

  “The Winged Hussars were unstoppable killing machines from the sixteenth century. The deadliest cavalry in humankind, stopping at nothing to completely obliterate the opposing forces. Their horses were decked with steel armor and giant feathery wings to intimidate whoever stood opposite them on the battlefield. Years later, they became mercenaries, selling their deadly skills to the highest bidders. Isn’t it funny how the more things change, the more they stay the same?”

  Ella didn’t quite know what Tobias was talking about, but she was just glad they were away from the subject of her dad. “How do you mean?” she asked.

  “Do you like horses, Agent Dark? You look the type. I could see you in an equestrian getup: a sleeveless jacket and riding boots.”

  “Never had the interest. I was always a cat person.”

  “Pet choices can reveal a lot about the owners. What drew you to cats? Passivity, social sensitivity, a distrust of authority?”

  Ella just shook her head, not wanting to give Tobias anything to work with. “Mr. Campbell, you said you could have recognized the culprit from the Seattle artist murders immediately. Care to explain how?”

  “You don’t believe me?” Tobias said, returning to the front glass and tracing his index finger around the holes.

  “It’s a bold claim, I’m sure you’ll agree.”

  “The burgeoning psychopathology was predictable fantasy-fulfilment of the most extreme nature. Each murder was an act free of moral restrain
ts, committed under the prying eyes of the general public. Quite clearly, the murders were being controlled by a woman, but a man was doing the handiwork. It was all right in front of you from the start.”

  Ella heard the words but didn’t quite take them in. Maybe Tobias was lying. Maybe he was just trying to belittle her. “Sure, it’s easy to identify the killer after the case is solved,” she said.

  “You don’t believe me, and it stuns me you can’t see it for yourself. You must remember that for most serial killers, the act of murder is an afterthought, a necessity, a conclusion of the ritual, a precautionary measure to erase the only witness who has been subject to the killer’s true nature. In the case of your so-called artist killer, none of this was present, meaning the chances of the mastermind being a man were almost zero. They were murders of convenience, vanity. The fact that you or Agent Ripley didn’t immediately suspect a woman’s touch shows why criminal profiling is nothing more than a buzzword thrown around by those too afraid to get their hands dirty.”

  Could Tobias really see things so easily? Was this a part of his game, to make her doubt her own skills? She began to feel like this visit was a mistake. She eyed the exit, wondering if she should leave now or push him further.

  “Agent Ripley caught you, didn’t she?”

  Ella saw a quick change in his demeanor. He tensed up, bringing his shoulders higher. “No, actually. Her partner caught me. And tell me, Miss Dark, I might be locked in this cage until the day I die, but my mental faculties are pristine. I live in peace and acceptance, never having to worry about what tomorrow might bring. Agent Ripley might live a free life, but she’s trapped in a cerebral prison. I know she thinks about me constantly. I made her doubt the most sacred thing: her own perception. Next time you see her, ask her if she enjoyed the gifts.”

  Ella said nothing, waiting to see if Tobias followed up. He moved closer to the glass and looked Ella from top to bottom.

  “Oh, I see,” he continued, as if reading her next thought. “Agent Ripley doesn’t know you’re here, does she?

  Ella shifted her weight to one side. She felt a tremor run through her legs. If she told Tobias the truth, he might exploit it. If she lied, he might recognize she was lying. “Not yet,” she said, hoping a middle-of-the-road approach would satisfy his curiosity.

  “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t find out, eh? I imagine that wouldn’t do much good for your career, would it?”

  Ella wanted to reach out, rattle the iron bars and scream at the man in the cage, but she quickly realized it was her own fault. She’d been warned he’d do this. By Mia, by the authorities. They said he’d do everything within his power to toy with her, and she foolishly believed she could keep him at bay. Now, he’d seen a weakness and pounced like a waiting predator, and acknowledging it would only give him what he wanted. Mia couldn’t find out about this, least of all from Tobias himself.

  “Are you ready to tell me your information yet? I can’t stay down here all day.” She hoped it would be enough to steer Tobias away from the thought.

  “I’m afraid not, Miss Dark. You see, I was expecting someone capable, someone on my level. Every time a rising star crops up in the FBI, I can’t help but scope them out. I yearn for the day I meet an agent who doesn’t bore me, but I’ve decided that you fall in line with the rest of them. I was looking for the person to share my story with, my real story, not the rehashed biographies I read in sensationalist publications. Maybe if you can impress me, I’ll change my mind, but until then, my secrets stay inside this cell.” Tobias Campbell sunk into the depths of his cage and turned his back to Ella. “You’re free to leave.”

  Ella realized her fists were clenched. Her forearms were trembling. Had this man – this monster – really just said she needed to impress him?

  “I came all the way out here to talk to you, and this is what you tell me?” Ella asked, her voice raised.

  Tobias dropped into the rear of his cell and picked up the deck of cards perched on the shelf. He fanned them out with enviable grace, swooped them back together and cut the deck with one hand. “I know, it’s amazing isn’t it? For someone who studies the so-called criminal mind, you certainly made some bad deductions today. I believe they call it the Dunning-Kruger Effect.”

  Ella wanted to continue, wanted to pry further, but was determined not to give Tobias what he wanted. If she pleaded for more, that would be validating his perceived status as a figure of importance. No words would form on her lips. She found herself backtracking towards the door.

  “Take care, Miss Dark. I have a feeling we’ll talk again,” Tobias said, his voice barely audible. Ella reached the door and took one last glimpse at the beast in the cage, living his life in comfort and tranquillity. She felt the rage building. She’d come all this way, expecting to learn something the rest of the world didn’t know. Something that could bring comfort to grieving family members still seeking closure. His real victim count, his true motivations.

  But nothing.

  Ella pushed the buzzer and waited.

  “Give my love to Agent Ripley,” Tobias said. Ella didn’t acknowledge him. The door opened from the other side revealing the corridor leading back into the main prison area.

  “On second thought, I might just tell her myself,” he shouted as Ella took her leave.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The Cuckoo Oak Bar was the perfect place for a quiet drink, but Ella’s mind wasn’t on drinking, nor was it on the gentleman sitting opposite her. She clenched the single whiskey-and-Coke in front of her and felt the condensation run down her palm. All she could think about was her meeting with the man in the cage earlier that day. The whole incident felt surreal, like she wasn’t sure if it really happened.

  “Are you sure you want to know?” Ben asked, leaning forward. This was only the third time they’d met in the flesh, but every time she saw Ben, she liked him that little bit more. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, with his black hair gelled to one side. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen gelled hair on a man, not in this decade at least, but there was something cute about it on him.

  “Yes, I want to know. Everything,” Ella said, hopefully prompting him to take the conversational reigns.

  “Well, I’m what’s known as a professional wrestler, but the title is quite misleading. Amateur wrestling is also a professional sport but there are some big differences between the two. First off, amateur wrestling is a real combat sport. Professional wrestling is…well…”

  “Fake?” Ella asked.

  Ben laughed. “No. Well, yes. When I step into the ring with a guy, we both know what’s going to happen. The moves we’re gonna do to each other, the winner and so forth. But you can’t fake landing on your back. There’s no safe way to take an elbow to the head. That’s all real, and let me tell you, it hurts sometimes.”

  Ella loved his energy and his enthusiasm. When Ben spoke, he did it with a smile. He waved his arms around a lot, something Ella thought made him more inviting.

  “So why do it?” she asked. “Not criticizing, I’m genuinely curious.”

  Ben scratched his stubble. A three-day growth. “When I was a kid, I wanted to be an actor. My parents pushed me towards being an athlete though, and pro wrestling is kind of a middle ground between them both. The wrestling ring is my stage, I guess. And my moves are my dialogue. Does that make me sound pretentious?”

  Ella kept her gaze on him and nodded along gradually. “No, not at all. It’s really cool. I’d love to come and see you one time.”

  “Is that an excuse to see me in spandex? Because I’ll be honest, I don’t look that good, especially compared to some of the body guys I work with. There are some real muscle-heads in my business. It’s lucky our promotion doesn’t enforce steroid tests because those guys would melt the cup.”

  Ella stifled a laugh and took a gulp of her drink. The alcohol hit her straight away. “I’m sure you look a treat.”

  “It might be a shock the first ti
me you see me like that, but please don’t be put off. Just think of it as my work uniform.”

  Ella’s gaze drifted beyond Ben to the orange lamps behind him. The light consumed her vision, taking her out of the conversation. The next image that jumped into her mind was Tobias Campbell, sitting in his prison cell, plotting his next manipulation effort. How much did he know about her already? Was it possible he would contact Agent Ripley directly? He knew her address, given he’d sent her gifts over the years, but how likely was it he’d write her a letter? Or, given his number of informants on the outside, he could easily pass the information along to her through them. And how would Ripley react knowing she’d been to see the man who broke her? She’d already warned Ella not to go, borderline pleaded with her.

  “Everything okay?” Ben asked. “You don’t seem yourself. Is it something I said?”

  Ella suddenly snapped back into the room. She realized she’d drifted into a stupor. “Sorry, I’ve just had a stressful day. I’ve been on the road all day. I only got back an hour ago.”

  “Oh, you should have said. We could have rearranged.”

  “No, no, I wanted to see you. Really, I did.”

  “Work travel? Anywhere nice?” Ben asked.

  “Yes and no,” Ella said. “I’ve been to a prison in Maine. I met this guy, and he was… something.” Ella didn’t want to reveal too much, but maybe talking about it would make her feel better.