CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

Ella perched on the edge of a cream leather sofa that probably cost more than her yearly salary, feeling about as comfortable as a nun in a strip club. The Ayers" living room was a spread straight out of Better Homes and Gardens; sleek lines; muted tones, pops of color that screamed ‘I have a decorator and you don"t.' The kind of place where you"d feel guilty leaving a water ring on the coffee table.

Luca sat beside her, looking like he was trying not to touch anything for fear it might disintegrate under his working-class fingers. Julie Ayers huddled in an armchair across from them with a tissue clutched in her perfectly manicured hand like a tiny white flag of surrender.

Ella cleared her throat. ‘Mrs. Ayers, I know this is difficult, but we need to ask you some questions about Marcus.'

Julie nodded, dabbing at eyes that were already puffy and red. ‘Of course. Anything to help.'

‘Your husband seems like he was a great man,' Ella said, wincing internally at the past tense. She hated how death turned people into ‘was' instead of ‘is,' how it relegated them to history books before the ink on their death certificates was even dry.

‘He was,' Julie whispered. ‘The best. I still can"t believe...' She trailed off, fresh tears welling up.

Ella"s chest tightened. She"d seen this scene play out a hundred times, in a hundred different living rooms. The stunned disbelief, the dawning horror as reality set in. It never got easier. Never hurt less to watch someone"s world implode in real time.

Julie took a shuddering breath, visibly pulling herself together. ‘What... what happened to Marcus? How did he...?' She couldn"t finish the sentence.

Ella steeled herself. This was always the worst part. ‘We found his body near a dried-up riverbed in Liberty Grove.'

Julie"s head snapped up, confusion momentarily overtaking her grief. ‘Liberty Grove? But that"s miles from here. What on earth was he doing there?'

‘That"s what we"re trying to figure out,' Ella said, leaning forward slightly. She kept her voice gentle, but firm. Professional. Don"t let the empathy bleed through too much, or you"ll drown in it. ‘We think it might have something to do with the dam project he was working on.'

‘The dam?' Julie"s brow furrowed, creating little lines of bewilderment amidst the tear tracks. ‘What about it?'

Ella shared a glance with Luca. Her eyes held a warning: tread carefully.

‘Mrs. Ayers,' Ella began, choosing her words with the care of a bomb disposal expert. ‘Marcus hasn"t been the only target. We"ve found... another victim, also connected to the dam project. We believe there might be a link.'

Julie"s eyes widened, a fresh wave of tears spilling over. ‘Oh God,' she whispered. ‘Oh God, no. You mean... someone did this on purpose? Someone... killed my husband?'

The raw anguish in her voice hit Ella like a physical blow. She"d heard that tone too many times, seen that realization dawn in too many eyes. The moment when "accident" or "tragedy" became "murder" and the world tilted on its axis.

‘We"re still investigating,' Ella said, trying to soften the blow. ‘But yes, we believe Marcus was targeted. That"s why we need your help. Can you tell us anything about his work on the project? Any details that might seem relevant?'

Julie let out a watery laugh. "Honey, I barely understood half of what Marcus said about his work. It was all data and engineering speak. Flow rates and environmental impact assessments, and God knows what else. But I know the project paid him very well."

Of course it did, Ella thought. A flicker of cynicism cutting through her empathy. Nothing motivates quite like a fat paycheck. How many lives had been ruined, how many corners cut, all in the name of the almighty dollar?

‘Did Marcus ever mention anyone who opposed the dam?' Ella pressed. ‘Anyone who might have threatened him or expressed strong disagreement with the project?'

Julie"s gaze drifted, focusing on some middle distance. Ella could see the gears turning behind those teary eyes, sifting through memories, searching for anything that might help. There was something there, some nugget of information the widow wasn"t sharing. Whether she was holding back intentionally or just struggling to recall, Ella couldn"t tell.

‘Julie. I know this is incredibly difficult. I can"t imagine the pain you"re going through right now. But even the smallest detail could help us catch your husband"s killer. Anything you can remember, no matter how insignificant it might seem...'

Julie stood abruptly, the motion so sudden it made both agents flinch. Without a word, she disappeared from the room, leaving Ella and Luca to exchange bewildered looks.

‘The hell?' Luca whispered. ‘Something you said?'

‘Maybe you should have done the talking after all.'

Luca bit his lip. ‘Poor woman just lost her husband. She's gotta tell two kids their dad is never coming home. Makes sense she might be a little weird.'

The seconds ticked by. Ella gave the poor woman a moment to collect herself. Just when she was about to suggest they go look for Julie, the widow reappeared, clutching a small USB stick in her hand. She shook as she approached the monstrosity of a smart TV that dominated one wall. It was top-of-the-line, of course, probably with more features than a space shuttle. She fumbled with the USB port as she struggled to insert the tiny device.

‘Here, let me,' Luca said gently, rising to help. Julie relinquished the USB stick with visible relief, sinking back into her armchair as Luca deftly plugged it in.

‘I recorded this,' Julie croaked. ‘Marcus was going to be on the news. He was so excited. Wanted the girls to see their dad on TV.' A fresh wave of tears spilled down her cheeks.

The screen flickered to life, filling with the crisp graphics of a local news channel. A perky anchor with teeth so white they probably glowed in the dark was mid-sentence: ‘...controversial dam project that"s set to revitalize the region.'

The scene cut to Marcus Ayers, looking alive and well in a hard hat and reflective vest. The sight of him, vibrant and animated, was jarring after seeing his waterlogged corpse. Ella felt a twinge in her chest, the same one she always got when confronted with the "before" of a victim. The reminder that this wasn"t just a body, a case file, a problem to be solved. This was a person with hopes and dreams and a future that had been violently ripped away.

Marcus was gesturing at some blueprints, spouting technical jargon that might as well have been Martian for all Ella understood. Something about ‘hydroelectric potential' and ‘sustainable water management.'

Julie let out a choked sob. ‘He was so passionate about it,' she whispered. ‘Said it was going to change everything, make the whole region better.'

Ella frowned. ‘He really believed that? That it would help everyone?"

"Oh yes. Marcus was... an idealist. He truly thought this project would bring prosperity to the entire area, Liberty Grove included."

If Marcus truly believed in the project"s benefits, then either Toledo had lied to him about the plans, or something had gone terribly awry in the execution.

But Ella nodded sympathetically, even as her mind raced. Passion could be a double-edged sword. For every person inspired by a project like this, there was usually someone else who saw it as a threat.

As if on cue, the report shifted. The anchor"s voice took on a more somber tone, the kind news readers used when they were about to drop a ‘but' the size of Everest.

‘But not everyone is thrilled about the dam"s construction. Environmental groups and some local residents have raised concerns about the project"s impact on the surrounding ecosystem and neighboring communities.'

The camera panned to a scruffy-looking man with a beard that could house small wildlife. He was brandishing a sign that read ‘DAMS = DEATH' in jagged red letters that looked like they"d been painted with blood. His eyes blazed with the fervor of the truly committed, the kind of look Ella had seen on the faces of zealots and true believers. It rarely led anywhere good.

‘This dam is an ecological disaster waiting to happen,' the man ranted, spittle flying from his lips. ‘It"s going to destroy habitats, disrupt migration patterns, and for what? So some fat cats in Bristol can line their pockets? They"re stealing our water, killing our land, all in the name of so-called progress. Well, I"ve got news for them – we won"t stand for it.'

A chyron flashed across the bottom of the screen: ‘Lawrence Holbrook, Environmental Activist.'

Ella"s pulse quickened as adrenaline flooded her system. This guy had motive written all over him, big as a billboard and twice as loud. The passion in his voice, the fire in his eyes – it was the kind of conviction that could easily tip over into violence if pushed too far.

The report continued, cutting back to Marcus, who dismissed the environmental concerns with practiced ease. "We"ve conducted extensive impact studies,' he was saying. ‘The benefits to the region far outweigh any potential drawbacks. This dam is going to bring jobs, clean energy, and economic growth to an area that desperately needs it.'

The contrast between Marcus"s polished corporate speak and Holbrook"s raw emotion was stark. Two men, two visions for the future, clashing like tectonic plates. And somewhere in the collision, Marcus Ayers had ended up dead in a dry riverbed.

Ella turned back to Julie, who was staring at the screen with a mixture of grief and bewilderment. Fresh tears streamed down her face, but there was something else in her eyes now. A dawning realization, perhaps, that her husband had been caught up in something bigger and more dangerous than she"d ever imagined.

‘Mrs. Ayers,' Ella said gently. ‘Did Marcus ever mention this man? Lawrence Holbrook?'

Julie shook her head, her gaze still fixed on the now-frozen image of her dead husband. ‘No, I... I don"t think so. There were protesters, sometimes. At public meetings, or outside his office. But Marcus never seemed worried. He said it was just part of the job, that people always resist change at first.' She let out a bitter laugh. ‘Oh God, do you think he...? Could that man have...?'

‘We don"t know anything for certain,' Luca jumped in. ‘But we"re going to find out. I promise you, Mrs. Ayers, we"ll get to the bottom of this.'

Ella nodded as she plotted their next move. Vernon Holbrook was a lead, and a damn good one. A vocal opponent of the dam, with a public platform and a clear grudge against the project"s leadership. It wasn"t proof, but it was far more than they"d had an hour ago.

‘Thank you for showing us this, Mrs. Ayers.' Ella stood, but instead of heading straight for the door, she moved towards Julie and took her hand. ‘I know this is hell. I can"t even imagine what you"re going through right now. But I promise you, we"re going to do everything in our power to find out what happened to Marcus.'

Luca joined them, his usual jokey demeanor replaced by genuine concern. ‘We"re here for you, ma"am. Whatever you need, day or night. Here"s my card – call anytime, even if it"s just to talk.'

‘We can arrange for a victim support counselor to come by,' Ella offered. ‘Someone to help with the practical stuff, you know? And to be there for you and the girls.'

At the mention of her daughters, Julie"s face crumpled. ‘Oh God, how am I going to tell them? How do I explain that their daddy"s never coming home?'

Ella squeezed her hand, wishing she had better answers. ‘One step at a time, Julie. Let us help you through this. You"re not alone.'

They stayed a few minutes longer, offering what comfort they could. But the job was calling, and a potential suspect was out there. As they finally made their way out, Ella felt the familiar shift – from compassionate human back to driven agent.

The suburban quiet hit them like a wall as they stepped outside. Ella was on her phone before they"d even reached the car.

‘Tucker? It"s Ella. Listen up, we"ve got a lead.' She yanked open the driver"s side door. ‘I need everything you can dig up on a Lawrence Holbrook. Environmental activist, vocal opponent of the dam project. And put out an APB on his vehicle while you"re at it.'

She listened for a moment as Tucker mentioned something about jurisdiction. Then she said, ‘To hell with jurisdiction. I want to meet this guy for myself.'

She ended the call with a vicious jab of her thumb as Luca slid into the passenger seat.

‘So,' he said, eyebrow raised. ‘I"m guessing we"re not heading back to the station for coffee and donuts?'

Ella"s lips twisted into something that might have been a smile on a less grim day. ‘Lawrence Holbrook. Environmental crusader who opposed this dam. He"s got motive coming out of his ears. And that kind of passion, that level of commitment to a cause? It can make people do crazy things.'

‘People have murdered for less.'

‘Exactly. So we need to find this Lawrence Holbrook guy before the dead in Liberty Grove outnumber the living.'