Once Chosen (A Riley Paige Mystery—Book 17)

by Blake Pierce

  After a while Pan had spoken in a clear, flute-like voice that no one but the man could hear.

  “There she is!”

  And there she’d been indeed—a young woman dressed as a skeleton.

  How appropriate, the man had thought.

  But how, he’d wondered, did the god want him to seize his prey this time?

  As if in reply, he’d heard his own voice cry out.

  “Mew.”

  That was all—just a high-pitched “mew.”

  The man hadn’t even understood why Pan wanted him to make that sound.

  But then the young woman stopped walking and looked toward the park.

  “Mew,” the man had said again.

  And the young woman had called back in a gentle voice, “Kitty?”

  Then the man had understood Pan’s clever trick.

  The woman thought a lost kitten was in that park nearby.

  She turned off the street and came walking toward him on the park path, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance as she searched for the source of that sound. He’d kept uttering “mew” with increasing pathos and desperation.

  Until finally …

  She’d crouched down beside the bush looking for the poor, lost animal that was calling for help. He hadn’t had to move from his spot to reach out and seize her once and for all.

  It had been brilliant—absolutely brilliant.

  And it had been the god’s scheming and doing, not his.

  Of course, there had been other sacrifices—people in graves the police had no idea about.

  Did Pan intend to reveal all those graves sometime soon?

  Would he use that revelation to unleash his apocalyptic panic?

  It’s up to the god.

  It’s Pan’s will.

  His ears perked up as a sound started coming from the concrete walls around him—a musical incantation.

  Pan’s song—at last!

  He picked up his scissors and got ready to cut out the message of that song, feeling possessed by the primal powers of the universe.

  For he knew the true meaning of Pan’s name …

  All.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Riley slowed the car down as the headlights fell on a battered-looking rural mailbox with the number 345 on it.

  “This must be the place,” Riley said. “345 Magnolia Road.”

  Ann Marie muttered from the passenger seat, “I don’t like the looks of this.”

  I don’t either, Riley thought, although she didn’t say so aloud.

  Their surroundings had changed a lot during the last half mile or so. As they’d followed their GPS directions to the address that Bill had given Riley over the phone, they’d passed large country homes, small farms, and occasional clusters of houses.

  Everything had struck Riley as fairly prosperous, not like the rough rural areas she’d known during her childhood. But they hadn’t passed any houses for a while now. And even though they’d come to a mailbox, there was no house in sight.

  Instead there was a wire fence with barbed wire on top and a gate with a sign that read NO TRESPASSING. The sign was crudely hand-painted, as was the number on the mailbox. The gate was secured with a chain and padlock

  Riley drove slowly past the gate and the mailbox.

  “Where are we going?” Ann Marie asked.

  Riley thought the rookie was sounding a bit worried.

  Maybe we should both be, Riley thought.

  Riley didn’t reply, just drove on for about an eighth of a mile until she came to a broad shoulder in the road. She pulled over and parked their vehicle, then turned off the engine and the headlights.

  “What are we doing?” Ann Marie said.

  “We’re going to walk back,” Riley said. “I don’t want to announce our approach.”

  “But it doesn’t look like anybody lives anywhere near here.”

  Riley felt a flash of impatience.

  “There was a mailbox back there,” she said. “Where there’s a mailbox, there’s a house. And a big freezer got delivered to that house about a year ago. I want to find out why and who it was delivered to. I want to check out that house. There are a couple of flashlights in the glove compartment. Hand me one, and keep the other for yourself.”

  Ann Marie handed a flashlight to Riley, and they both got out of the car. The night was chilly and dark. No other vehicles came into sight as they walked back along Magnolia Road toward the gate and the mailbox.

  “What are we looking for, anyway?” Ann Marie asked.

  She sounded like her teeth were chattering—and not from the cold. Riley couldn’t help but be amused.

  “We’ll know it when we find it,” Riley said. “If we find it. You sound kind of scared for a kid who grew up around dead people.”

  Ann Marie sighed and said, “Yeah, well, in case you never noticed, mortuaries aren’t exactly spooky places. They’re designed to look peaceful and pleasant, nice lighting and pretty pastel colors and all. I’m not used to wandering around outside at night—at least not in a wilderness like this.”

  Riley smiled at the irony.

  My partner is a mortician’s daughter who’s afraid of the dark, she thought.

  She wondered what else she was going to learn about Ann Marie before the night was over. The rookie still hadn’t told Riley the story of that case she’d solved—the case that had gotten her recruited into the FBI Honors Internship Program. Riley figured now was still not the time to ask her about that. It might turn out to be a long and involved story.

  But Riley had another question on her mind, and she thought it was an important one. Now seemed like as good a time as any to ask it, but Riley wasn’t sure how to say it.

  “You’ve seen a lot of corpses,” Riley said cautiously. “But have you ever …?”

  Riley’s voice trailed off.

  Ann Marie said, “Seen anybody get killed? No. I haven’t even seen anyone die from natural causes. I was just never around when any of the older people in my family died. Kind of weird, huh? I guess that’s likely to change now that I’m an FBI agent.”

  It sure is, Riley thought.

  She hoped they could finish this case without Ann Marie going through that particular rite of passage. Riley wasn’t at all sure the girl would handle it well, and she didn’t much want to be the one to help her through it.

  When they arrived at the gate, they could see that the dirt road beyond it led into a wooded area. Riley shined the flashlight along the road, but they could see nothing beyond those impenetrable trees and underbrush.

  Ann Marie said, “I don’t see an intercom button to push to tell anybody we’re here.”

  Riley almost laughed at what seemed to her like a rather silly idea.

  Ann Marie added, “Um … the sign says ‘no trespassing.’”

  “So it does,” Riley said. “And this is where you learn that signs aren’t always there to be obeyed.”

  In spite of the padlocked gate and barbed wire on the fence, she saw how they could get inside. There was a fair amount of space between the gate and the fence.

  Riley squeezed through the space to the other side of the gate.

  “Come on through,” she told Ann Marie.

  The girl just stood there, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

  “Did you hear me?” Riley asked.

  Ann Marie nodded nervously and squeezed through herself.

  They started to walk along a dirt road that suddenly seemed oddly familiar to Riley. Then she realized it reminded her of the drive that had led to her father’s cabin up in the Appalachian Mountains. Although she had sold the place after he died, she had walked that road many times in earlier years. This one wasn’t uphill like her father’s drive, but the dirt and stones crunched underfoot in much the same way.

  She also remembered that her father was sometimes prone to welcome unwanted visitors with a shotgun, especially at night.

  “Be ready for anything,” Riley said, fingering her sid
earm.

  “OK,” Ann Marie replied nervously.

  As Riley and her partner followed the road through the woods, they kept their flashlights tilted downward, still trying not to advertise their presence. Riley could see that the drive was riddled with potholes, but fresh tire tracks showed that it was recently and frequently used by some large vehicle.

  Finally a bungalow came into view, situated in a small clearing that was overgrown with weeds. The house was completely dark. Riley avoided shining her flashlight directly onto the house, but in the moonlight she could see that it was in bad need of repair and a new coat of paint.

  “It doesn’t look like anybody lives here,” Ann Marie said.

  “Let’s find out,” Riley said.

  They made their way through the weed-infested yard to the house and climbed up a handful of rickety steps onto the porch. With one hand on her weapon, Riley knocked on the door.

  She called out, “Is Gabriel Ballard here? This is the FBI. We’d just like a word with you.”

  There was no reply.

  Ann Marie said wishfully, “There’s nobody home. I guess we’d better leave, come back tomorrow or something.”

  “Let’s look around first,” Riley said.

  Ann Marie let out a sigh of wordless disapproval. They stepped down off the porch, and Ann Marie followed as Riley waded through the weeds around the side of the house. Riley soon detected a faint but horrible smell.

  “Oh my God,” Ann Marie muttered.

  “You smell it too, huh?” Riley said.

  “Uh-huh,” Ann Marie said.

  “And you know what it is?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Riley wasn’t entirely surprised. As a mortician’s daughter, the rookie must have had some familiarity with the vile smell of death with its hint of disgusting sweetness. Not all the corpses her father had dealt with would have been in pristine condition.

  Riley turned and retraced their steps back to the front of the house.

  “What are we doing?” Ann Marie asked.

  Riley didn’t reply as they climbed the front steps again. When they got to the door, she reached into her purse for her lock-picking kit.

  She asked her partner, “How are your lock-picking skills? I assume they still teach that at the Academy, don’t they?”

  Ann Marie’s eyes widened with alarm.

  “We’re not going in there, are we?” she asked.

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Riley said.

  “Well, it would be … breaking and entering, wouldn’t it?”

  Riley said, “I think we both agree that there’s something dead in this house. And we’re investigating a murder. I’m pretty sure that gives us cause.”

  “But not completely sure?” Ann Marie asked.

  Riley stifled a growl of impatience. She knew perfectly well that her rookie partner wasn’t nearly as worried about the legality of entering the house as she was about whatever they might face in there.

  She said, “Go ahead, get on your cell phone and call a lawyer. Or better yet, get us a search warrant. Let me know how that works out for you. Meanwhile, I’ve got a lock to pick. Give me some light to work by, OK?”

  Ann Marie nodded and pointed the beam at the door lock. Riley used a pick and a tension wrench to twist the lock, then turned the door handle and pushed. The door squeaked as it swung open. Riley and Ann Marie stepped inside.

  Riley’s partner felt around the wall for a light switch.

  “Don’t do that,” Riley said. “If somebody’s anywhere in the area, I’d rather they not notice that we’re here.”

  Riley and Ann Marie shined their flashlights around the small living room. There was a decrepit-looking stuffed armchair near the fireplace, but the other furniture was covered with dingy white sheets.

  Ann Marie said, “It really doesn’t look to me like anybody lives here.”

  For a moment, Riley almost agreed. But her eye was caught by a telltale glint from the fireplace. She walked over and looked inside. Sure enough, she could see the glow of warm embers.

  “There’s been a fire here recently,” Riley said. “Somebody uses this place for something, even if he doesn’t live here.”

  She sniffed and added, “That smell is stronger in here than it was outside. Can you tell where it’s coming from?”

  “No,” Ann Marie said.

  “We’d better find out,” Riley said.

  They moved on through the house, checking it out room by room without finding anything unusual. When they got to the kitchen, they saw that the sink was piled high with dirty dishes.

  A different kind of stench emerged when Riley opened the refrigerator door and its bulb came on to reveal a grubby interior with moldy food and containers. She quickly shut the door and looked around. She still hadn’t seen any sign of that large freezer chest.

  Then Riley heard Ann Marie say, “Agent Paige, I think the smell is coming from over here.”

  Riley turned and saw her partner standing outside a door. Riley checked it out and saw that it was locked with a hasp and a padlock. Again using her pick and tension wrench, she quickly snapped the lock open.

  She opened the door. As she’d expected, the doorway led down into a basement. And the smell was much stronger and more unpleasant than before.

  A feeling of dread was starting to creep over Riley. She felt sure she wasn’t going to like what she found down there. And given Ann Marie’s current state of mind, she doubted that her partner would be able to deal with it.

  She said to Ann Marie, “Go back to the living room and keep watch out front. If you see anybody coming, let me know.”

  Ann Marie nodded and went back through the house. Riley shined her flashlight down the basement stairs. There was a light switch on the wall, but she still didn’t want to turn it on in case the basement had windows.

  Slowly, she moved down the creaking wooden stairs. Once she heard something scurrying, but she couldn’t catch it in her flashlight beam.

  Rats, she realized. That made her hesitate, but then she turned her light back on the steps continued on down.

  At the bottom, she used her flashlight to see that she was in an unfinished basement with bare cinderblock walls and a concrete floor. There was quite a bit of clutter on the floor, including buckets and ice chests.

  A shotgun and several rifles were in racks on one wall. She saw other weapons on another wall—bows and arrows, including a couple of crossbows. Those were certainly powerful enough to kill a person as well as an animal.

  Riley remembered the roundness of the murder victim’s chest wound. Might it have been made by the shaft of an arrow?

  She thought the wound was too large to have been made by the arrows she saw here.

  Unless the arrow was specially designed, she considered.

  Then her flashlight fell on something that made her gasp.

  It was a wooden table was covered with blood. Some of the blood was dried and black, but some of it looked fresh, sticky, and red. Riley no longer had any doubt that this had been the scene of some violent act.

  Beyond the table against the far wall, Riley saw what she’d come here looking for and now that she paused to listen, she could hear it faintly humming. It was a large white chest-type freezer, more than big enough to hold a human body.

  She hurried over to it.

  Her fingers trembled as she reached for the latch and lifted the lid.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ann Marie was positively shivering. Ever since Agent Paige had disappeared down into the basement, she had felt her own fear of the dark rising. She knew it was irrational, and she had no idea where it came from.

  She wasn’t scared of most other things that frightened other people. Nothing about Dad’s mortuary ever upset her. But when she was little she’d been terrified of her own dark closet and imaginary things under her bed. Now, standing here alone in this strange dark cabin, she felt a powerful impulse to turn on the lights.

  Nevertheless, s
he resisted the urge and made her way back into the living room with her flashlight shining in front of her. She held the light tilted low to keep its beam from spilling too much.

  Some fearless BAU agent I am, she thought.

  And of course, Agent Paige had noticed.

  “You sound kind of scared for a kid who grew up around dead people,” Agent Paige had said.

  She knew that this would be just one more thing for Agent Paige to find fault with. So far, Ann Marie’s senior partner hadn’t said a single encouraging word to her—not even about how she’d coaxed Lauren Hillis into answering Riley’s questions. Ann Marie thought she’d handled the grieving mother pretty well. If Agent Paige didn’t think so too, why didn’t she just say so?

  She just doesn’t like me, I guess.

  Ann Marie wasn’t used to people not liking her. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling.

  As Ann Marie made her way back into the living room, her flashlight fell again on the sheets covering most of the furniture, making them look ghostly and even vaguely threatening. And of course there was still that awful smell. It reminded her of one time when an unusually putrid corpse had been brought to the mortuary. An elderly woman had been found in her house after she’d been dead for a month.

  Nope, there’s no mistaking that smell.

  Ann Marie had no doubt that Agent Paige was going to find a dead body down in that basement. That was no big deal as far as Ann Marie was concerned. She only wished her partner would find the damned corpse and come back upstairs so she wouldn’t be alone in this darkness.

  Meanwhile, she remembered what she was supposed to do.

  “Go back to the living room and keep watch out front,” Agent Paige had said.

  Ann Marie went to the front door and pulled it open. Then she realized that anyone outside might see the glow of her flashlight, and snapped it off. She thought she could see the road reasonably well by moonlight.

  Nothing seemed to be stirring out there except a rising wind.

  Then a weird whistling sound came from somewhere behind her … somewhere inside the house.