Once Chosen (A Riley Paige Mystery—Book 17)

by Blake Pierce

  Meanwhile, she found it hard to focus. For one thing, she kept thinking about Ann Marie, who had surely gotten back to Quantico by now. What had she done when she’d gotten there? Had she gone straight to Meredith and Walder and reported how Riley had treated her?

  You’re getting paranoid, Riley told herself.

  But she remembered what Bill had told her about Walder overhearing their phone call. There was also the fact that the sheriff was being pestered for news on the case by a politician who knew Walder. She could almost hear Bill’s words again …

  “It sounds like a perfect storm is brewing.”

  He was probably right. She only hoped that Walder wasn’t going to make trouble before she managed to solve this case.

  But Riley also couldn’t help worrying about the way she and Ann Marie parted. She knew she had been hard on the young agent. Whether she wanted to or not, she must have hurt the rookie’s feelings. Surely Riley could have handled the situation more gracefully.

  Should she call Ann Marie and try to make things better?

  No, this was no time for that.

  Keep your head in the game, she told herself. Lives are at stake here.

  She pushed the files away for a moment to give her eyes a rest. It occurred to her that she hadn’t talked to April and Jilly since yesterday morning, when they’d been having another fight. She did need to find out how things were going. Maybe this would be a good time to check in with them. She only hoped she wasn’t going to step into another family crisis.

  She got out her cell phone and quickly got Jilly on the line.

  “Hey, Mom. Are you on your way home yet?”

  Riley was surprised at the question.

  She said, “Um, no. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, April and Gabriela and I saw on the news that you have a suspect in custody. We figured you’d wrap things up and drive straight back.”

  Riley stifled down a sigh. With luck, she might get home tomorrow. But tonight was really out of the question.

  “Jilly, I’m afraid—”

  Jilly interrupted good-naturedly, “Don’t tell me. Things are complicated.”

  Riley smiled. Her daughter was definitely catching on to the way things went in her line of work.

  “Yeah, like always,” she said. “I’m hoping for a break tonight, though.”

  Jilly said, “Good luck, Mom. April and Gabriela and I pulling for you.”

  “Thanks,” Riley said. “Are you and your sister ready to go trick-or-treating?”

  “Yeah, we’re just now heading out. I’m already in my zombie costume. You ought to see it, Mom. It would scare even you.”

  Riley chuckled. “It just might. So what did you decide about April wearing a costume?”

  “Huh?” Jilly said, as if she didn’t understand the question.

  Riley said, “Well, yesterday the two of you were fighting about whether she should wear a costume or not.”

  Riley heard Jilly scoff.

  “Well, that would be dumb, wouldn’t it?” Jilly said. “She’s sixteen years old, Mom. She’d look pretty silly wearing a costume.”

  Riley was momentarily dumbstruck. It seemed as if Jilly remembered nothing of yesterday’s altercation. In fact, she was fully sympathetic with April on the matter.

  Kids, Riley thought.

  They were utterly unpredictable, probably even to themselves. Nothing about raising them seemed simple or straightforward. Sometimes she thought it was easier to make sense of serial killers than ordinary teenagers.

  “You two have fun,” Riley said to Jilly. “But be careful. Halloween can be dangerous, you know.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Jilly said. “But April and I can take care of ourselves. We had a good teacher.”

  Riley smiled at the compliment and said goodbye. As she ended the call, she fought down a pang of worry. She’d meant it when she’d said that Halloween could be dangerous. And right now, that seemed truer even than usual. She thought she’d feel better if her daughters simply skipped trick-or-treating altogether this year, and perhaps for good. At least she was glad that they were in Fredericksburg, Virginia. That should be well out of reach of the so-called “Goatman” here in Maryland.

  Riley looked at her watch. She had time to take one last pass through some of these records on the desk. She opened up the folder for Yvonne Swenson. As she glanced through it, a detail stood out to her that so far hadn’t seemed very meaningful. It was a fact that Sheriff Wightman had mentioned.

  She was a widow.

  Riley felt an odd tingle. She wasn’t sure just why. From what she was reading, it appeared that Yvonne’s husband, Russell Swenson, had died three years before her disappearance. But why did that matter? What could that possibly have to do with what had eventually happened to Yvonne?

  Riley didn’t know. But she got on Sheriff Wightman’s computer and searched for the man’s obituary. She saw that he’d died rather young in a motorcycle accident. The obituary included a few innocuous details about his life, and also information about the upcoming funeral and memorial service.

  But what struck Riley most was his birthdate.

  He was born on October 31.

  He was born on Halloween!

  It seemed like a weird detail. Riley wondered if it had any significance.

  The obituary also gave the date and time for his burial, which was to take place in Gracefield Cemetery.

  Gracefield Cemetery …

  The name rang a bell with Riley.

  She unfolded a map of Winneway and Aurora Groves and quickly found Gracefield Cemetery. It was in Aurora Groves, and it adjoined an area called Garfield Park.

  Riley felt a surge of interest as she recognized the location of Garfield Park.

  It was the park she had explored the night before last. Garfield Park was where she’d gotten her strongest sense of the killer’s presence—and of how he’d ambushed and killed Allison Hillis.

  Riley put her finger down on the spot where she’d entered the park. Then she traced her way along a trail that led through the park. The cemetery was at the end of that trail, less than a mile away from where Riley had been when she got that sense of the killer.

  She quickly got back on the sheriff’s computer and searched for a map of the cemetery. She used it to locate Russell Swenson’s grave, which was right at the edge of the cemetery bordering on Garfield Park.

  A jumble of thoughts began to come together in Riley’s mind.

  Yvonne’s husband was born on Halloween.

  His grave is only a short distance away from where Allison Hillis was killed.

  Riley felt a shiver of excitement.

  She wasn’t yet sure what this discovery might signify. But at least she knew where she could go next. Maybe she could use these odd clues to pick up more about the killer.

  She looked at her watch again. Sheriff Wightman’s curfew was now in effect.

  She got up from Wightman’s desk and headed out of his office. Her hopes began to rise as she continued down the hallway and out of the building.

  If she was lucky—very lucky—she just might find her way to the killer.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Sheriff Wightman slowed his car when he spotted the group clustered under a streetlight. Officer Tyrone Baldry seemed to be in heated conversation with three teenaged boys. Like the other cops involved in the dragnet, Baldry was in plainclothes, but he was showing the boys his badge.

  Wightman pulled to a stop along the curb and rolled down his window in order to hear what Baldry and the boys were arguing about.

  Baldry’s voice was rising as he warned them, “And I’m telling you for the last time—”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” one of the youths replied with a sneer. “There’s a curfew. We’re not supposed to be out. We get it.”

  “Good. Now go home.”

  A second boy added, “It’s Halloween, Officer. This is a holiday. A once-a-year kind of party.”

  Another argued, �
��What’s the point of the curfew, anyway? You’ve caught the killer, right?”

  “We’ve just got a suspect,” Baldry said. “We don’t know for sure he’s the killer.”

  “The sheriff sounded pretty sure on TV,” the second boy said. “And what are you doing out of uniform, anyway?”

  The first boy demanded, “What are you going to do, arrest us?”

  Obviously flustered, Baldry stammered incoherently.

  Sheriff Wightman leaned out his window and called out to the group.

  “What’s going on here, boys?”

  Baldry and the boys all turned and looked at him. None of them seemed to have noticed his arrival until just now. The boys seemed a bit chastened to see the sheriff. Baldry looked relieved.

  Baldry said, “Just dealing with some ornery kids who are out and around when they’re not supposed to be.”

  “Is that right?” Wightman said with a smile. “Maybe they got lost. Maybe they don’t know their way back to their houses. They don’t look awfully bright to me. Hey, guys, there’s room for three more in my car. I can give you a lift somewhere.”

  Then with a chuckle he added, “If you don’t know your way home, I’d be happy to drive you down to the station. We’ve got some nice clean cells where you can spend the night. You’ll be perfectly comfortable.”

  The boys shuffled their feet and grumbled.

  “It’s OK,” one said. “We’ll head on home.”

  As the boys walked away, Baldry came over to the sheriff’s open window.

  He said, “What do you want to bet I run into them again before the night is over?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Wightman said with a sigh.

  He’d been patrolling ever since the curfew had gone into effect, and he’d seen kids of all ages wandering about—little kids in cute costumes, and mischievous teenagers just out to make trouble. Maybe there weren’t as many as he’d have expected without a curfew, but way too many for his liking.

  He’d also seen his cops trying frantically to get them off the streets.

  “Some curfew,” Wightman said.

  “Yeah, and some dragnet,” Baldry said. “Not working out quite like you planned, is it? Me and the guys are supposed to be watching out for the killer. But now we’re spending the whole evening watching out for stragglers and trying to round them up and send them home.”

  “Any other news?” Wightman asked.

  “Yeah, a couple of the kids I talked to mentioned the ‘Goatman’ in joking kind of way. So I guess the word is out about the killer’s supposed identity.”

  Wightman stifled a growl of dismay. He’d known all along that the public was going to get wind of the “Goatman” angle sooner or later. It had only been a matter of time.

  But I’d sure like to get my hands on whoever leaked it.

  Wightman felt like apologizing to Baldry for how things were turning out. But admitting his own role in what was starting to seem like a huge miscalculation would hardly boost anyone’s morale.

  Instead he shook his head and said, “Just keep doing your best, you and the rest of the guys.”

  “We’ll do that, sir,” Baldry said.

  Wightman rolled his window back up and watched as Baldry started to walk away. But the younger cop didn’t get very far before he ran into a group of five costumed kids. None of them looked more than ten years old. Wightman growled under his breath. As far as he was concerned, that bunch was too little to be out this late without any parents even on an ordinary Halloween.

  And this is no ordinary Halloween.

  If Agent Paige was right, a killer was also prowling the streets right now and everyone else out here could be in danger. This Goatman character didn’t seem to be after a specific type and he hadn’t struck in any consistent location. They had no idea how he chose his marks.

  Wightman watched as Baldry successfully herded the new group of youngsters away—toward their homes, he hoped. He thought he might as well continue on his way, but as he reached out to put his car in gear, his cell phone buzzed. He saw that the call was from Agent Paige.

  She said, “I just wanted you to know I’m following a hunch that will take me out to the Gracefield Cemetery.”

  Wightman suppressed a sigh.

  “I hope you’re not going to ask me to send any more cops there. Because I don’t have anybody to spare.”

  “No, it might be just as well if you don’t,” Agent Paige said. “I want to stay as inconspicuous as possible.”

  “Good luck,” Wightman said.

  As soon as the call ended, he was surprised to get another call—this one from Agent Ann Marie Esmer.

  What the hell …?

  The last time he had seen Esmer was earlier that day at the police station, the moment before she had oddly disappeared.

  Wightman remembered Agent Paige’s cryptic comment when she’d come into the conference room alone.

  “Agent Esmer won’t be joining us.”

  Because of the expression on Paige’s face, he hadn’t asked any questions. He’d assumed right then and there that Riley and her young partner had had some kind of falling out, which had made him distinctly uneasy. He’d also figured that whatever was going on between them was none of his business.

  But he hadn’t actually expected to see Agent Esmer still on the case. Why was she calling him right now?

  He took the call and said, “What’s going on, Agent Esmer?”

  Esmer’s voice sounded agitated.

  “I’m parked outside Pater High School. I see that the gymnasium is all lighted up. Do you realize there’s a party going on there?”

  Wightman stifled a sigh. He’d talked all this over with Principal Cody earlier today.

  He said to Esmer, “Yeah, but the party was supposed to end at curfew.”

  “Well, it’s still going on,” Esmer said. “I can see through the windows. Most of the kids seem to have left, but a bunch are still there. I see Principal Cody in there too. What do you want me to do?”

  Wightman thought for a moment.

  Then he said, “I’ll give Principal Cody a call. It will help if you can stay put and keep an eye on things at the school. That will give my guys one less location to worry about. Watch who comes and goes. Make sure the kids stay safe. If you see anyone suspicious hanging around, call me for backup right away.”

  “I’ll do that,” Esmer said.

  Wightman ended the call and sat staring ahead.

  He wasn’t happy with what he’d just heard about what was going on at the school. But he wasn’t surprised either. Neither Principal Cody nor anyone in his current administration were real disciplinarians. That job had belonged to Vice Principal Yvonne Swenson, who’d had a reputation for being tough as nails with the students when she’d still been alive. Nobody had been able to fill her shoes in that department during the two years since her death. Wightman thought that the school had suffered in many ways from her loss.

  He guessed that the kids at the party had probably begged to keep the party going, and Cody had caved to their wishes. But since they had all been there this long, maybe keeping the party going was the best thing to do. At least the kids were in the gymnasium and not out on the street.

  Wightman tapped Cody’s phone number into his cell phone, planning to talk things over with the principal.

  Meanwhile, Wightman felt uneasy that Agent Esmer wasn’t with Agent Paige. The two BAU agents didn’t seem to be coordinating their efforts.

  That seemed odd to him—and it certainly didn’t make him feel any more confident that this tactic was going to help them catch the Goatman.

  Everything seemed to be going wrong. At this point, he could only hope that Paige’s odd plan to draw out a killer wasn’t going to go terribly wrong too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  After the end of the phone call with Sheriff Wightman, Ann Marie sat in her rental car staring at Pater High School. It was dark outside now and the school itself was an enormous
silhouette. Through a row of large windows, she could see activity in the brightly lit gym. The glimpse of costumed kids dancing and frolicking among crepe paper decorations was a rather surreal sight, but there certainly didn’t seem to be anything sinister going on.

  She sighed as she remembered what the sheriff had said to her just now.

  “It will help if you can stay put and keep an eye on things at the school.”

  He didn’t sound like he thought the party was a very serious problem. Worse, he sounded as though he was just giving Ann Marie something to keep her occupied while he and his cops and Agent Paige went about their more urgent business.

  Ann Marie really didn’t like how that made her feel. She’d already had a bad day and wasn’t feeling great anyhow. But she wasn’t in any position to complain, since she wasn’t even supposed to be here in Winneway. Fortunately, the sheriff apparently didn’t even know that Agent Paige had sent her back to Quantico. She wondered why Agent Paige hadn’t told him.

  Of course, Agent Paige had no idea that Ann Marie was back in town.

  Maybe I should call her and tell her.

  But no, Ann Marie couldn’t see any point in doing that. Agent Paige would just get mad and tell her to leave all over again. Well, she was here now and she was going to contribute to this case in some way, even if it was just keeping watch while nothing at all happened.

  After a few more minutes, Ann Marie thought she’d go crazy just sitting in the car. Surely she could be more effective patrolling the area on foot. She got out of the car and walked across the street.

  As she continued along the sidewalk in front of the school, she was met by a man with four costumed little kids, obviously out trick-or-treating.

  She took out her badge and waved it at them.

  “FBI,” she said. “You’re not supposed to be out here. There’s a curfew, you know.”

  The man looked a bit ashamed of himself.

  “I just thought … well, since you’ve got a suspect … everything would be safe and …”

  Ann Marie grumbled, “Yeah, well, there’s a curfew anyway. You should know that. Head on home.”