by Blake Pierce
O N C E B O U N D
(A RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY—BOOK 12)
B L A K E P I E R C E
Blake Pierce
Blake Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes twelve books (and counting). Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising eight books (and counting); of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; and of the KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising four books (and counting).
ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), and A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Google Play!
An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.
Copyright © 2018 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Photographee.eu, used under license from Shutterstock.com.
BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE
THE MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE SERIES
WATCHING (Book #1)
RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES
ONCE GONE (Book #1)
ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)
ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)
ONCE LURED (Book #4)
ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)
ONCE PINED (Book #6)
ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)
ONCE COLD (Book #8)
ONCE STALKED (Book #9)
ONCE LOST (Book #10)
ONCE BURIED (Book #11)
ONCE BOUND (Book #12)
ONCE TRAPPED (Book #13)
MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES
BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)
BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)
BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)
BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)
BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)
BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)
BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)
BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)
BEFORE HE PREYS (Book #9)
AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES
CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)
CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)
CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)
CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)
CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)
CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)
KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES
A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)
A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)
A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)
A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)
A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
PROLOGUE
As consciousness slowly returned, Reese Fisher realized that she was in pain all over. The back of her neck ached and her skull felt as though it would burst from throbbing.
She opened her eyes only to be blinded by glaring sunlight. She squeezed her eyelids tight again.
Where am I? she wondered. How did I get here?
Mingled with the pain was a tingling numbness, especially in her extremities.
She tried to shake her arms and legs to get rid of the tingling, but found that she couldn’t. Her arms, hands, and legs were somehow immobilized.
She wondered …
Was I in some kind of accident?
Maybe she’d been hit by a car.
Or maybe she’d been thrown from her own car and was now lying on hard pavement.
Her mind couldn’t get a hold on anything.
Why couldn’t she remember?
And why couldn’t she move? Was her neck broken or something?
No, she could feel the rest of her body, she just couldn’t move anything.
She could also feel the hot sun on her face, and she didn’t want to open her eyes again.
She tried hard to think—where had she been and what had she been doing just before this … whatever this was?
She remembered—or thought she remembered—getting on the train in Chicago, finding a good seat, and then she’d been on her way home to Millikan.
But had she gotten to Millikan?
Had she gotten off the train?
Yes, she thought she had. It had been a bright, sunny morning at the train station, and she was looking forward to the mile-long walk to her house.
But then …
What?
The rest was all fragmented, even dreamlike.
It was like one of those nightmares of being in terrible danger but unable to run, unable to move at all. She’d wanted to struggle, to free herself from some threat, but she couldn’t.
She also remembered a malignant presence—a man whose face she now couldn’t bring to mind at all.
What did he do to me? she wondered.
And where am I?
She realized she could at least turn her head. She turned away from the glaring sunlight and finally managed to open her eyes and keep them open. At first, she was aware of curving lines stretching away from her. But at the moment they seemed abstract and incomprehensible.
Then she could see why the back of her neck was in such pain.
It was lying against a long curving stretch of reddish steel, hot under the bright sunlight.
She wriggled slightly and felt a sharp roughness against her back. It felt like crushed rock.
Little by little, the abstract lines came into focus and she could see what they were.
In spite of the hot sun, her body felt cold as she understood.
She was on a railroad track.
But how had she gotten here?
And why couldn’t she move?
As she struggled, she realized that she could
move, at least somewhat.
She could writhe, twisting her torso, and also her legs, although she couldn’t separate them for some reason.
The tingling numbness she hadn’t been able to shake off was now turning into surges of fear.
She was tied here somehow—tied to railroad tracks, with her neck fastened to the rail.
No, she told herself. This is impossible.
It had to be one of those dreams—a dream of being immobilized and helpless and in terrible danger.
She closed her eyes again, hoping the nightmare would go away.
But then she felt a sharp vibration against her neck, and a rumbling reached her ears.
The rumbling was getting louder. The vibration became piercingly strong, and her eyes snapped back open.
She couldn’t see very far along the curve of the tracks, but she knew what the source of that vibration was, that crescendo of noise.
It was an oncoming train.
Her pulse pounded, and terror erupted through her whole body. Her writhing became frantic, but completely futile.
She couldn’t tear her arms and legs free, and she couldn’t pull her neck away from the rail.
The rumbling was now a deafening roar, and suddenly it came into view …
… the reddish-orange front of a massive diesel engine.
She let out a scream—a scream that sounded supernaturally loud to her own ears.
But then she realized—it wasn’t her own scream she’d heard.
It was the piercing noise of the train whistle.
Now she felt a weird rush of anger.
The engineer had sounded his whistle …
Why the hell doesn’t he just stop?
But of course, he couldn’t—not nearly fast enough, not hurtling along at his current speed.
She could hear a screeching sound as he tried to bring the mountain of metal to a stop.
The engine filled her whole field of vision now—and peering out through the windshield was a pair of eyes …
… eyes that looked as terrified as she felt.
It was like looking in a mirror—and she didn’t want to see what she was seeing.
Reese Fisher closed her eyes, knowing it was for the last time ever.
CHAPTER ONE
When Riley heard the car pull up in front of her townhouse, she asked herself …
Am I really going to be able to go through with this?
She studied her face in her bathroom mirror, hoping it didn’t look too obvious that she’d been crying. Then she went downstairs, where her family was already gathered in the living room—her housekeeper, Gabriela; her fifteen-year-old daughter, April; and Jilly, the thirteen-year-old girl Riley was in the process of adopting.
And standing among them, flanked by a couple of large packed suitcases, was fifteen-year-old Liam, smiling rather sadly at Riley.
It’s really happening, she thought. Right now.
She reminded herself that this was all for the best.
Even so, she couldn’t help but feel sad.
Then came the sound of the doorbell, and Jilly rushed to open the front door.
A man and woman in their late fifties came inside, all smiles. The woman hurried over to Liam, but the man approached Riley.
“You must be Ms. Paige,” he said.
“Riley, please,” Riley said, her voice choking just a little.
“I’m Scott Schweppe, Liam’s uncle,” he said. He turned toward his wife, who was giving Liam a big hug. “And this is my wife, Melinda.”
With a slightly awkward chuckle he added, “But I guess you already know that. Anyway, I’m so glad to meet you.”
Riley shook his offered hand. She noticed that his handshake was warm and strong.
Unlike Riley, Melinda didn’t bother to hold back her tears. Looking up at her nephew, she told him, “Oh, Liam! It’s been such a long time! You were so little when we last saw you. Such a handsome young man you’ve become!”
Riley took several long, slow breaths.
This really is for the best, she told herself again.
But until a couple of days ago, it was about the last thing she’d expected to happen.
It seemed like only yesterday when Liam had come to live with Riley and her family. In fact, he’d been here less than two months, but Liam had fit in perfectly and everyone in the household was already very attached to him.
But now it had turned out that the boy had relatives who wanted him to come live with them.
Riley said to the couple, “Please, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Melinda dabbed her eyes with a tissue, and she and Scott sat down on the couch. Everybody else found places to sit except Gabriela, who hurried away to the kitchen for refreshments.
Riley was a bit relieved when April and Jilly started making small talk with Scott and Melinda—all about their two-day drive from Omaha, where they had stopped for the night, and how the weather had been along the way. Jilly seemed in good spirits, but Riley detected sadness behind April’s cheerful demeanor. After all, she had been closer to Liam than any of them.
As Riley listened, she observed the couple closely.
Scott and his nephew looked a lot alike—the same lanky build, bright red hair, and freckled complexion. Melinda was on the stout side and looked like a perfectly conventional, good-natured housewife.
Gabriela quickly returned carrying a tray with coffee, sugar and cream, and some delicious home-baked Guatemalan cookies called champurradas. She served everybody as they talked.
Riley noticed that Liam’s aunt was looking at her.
With a warm smile, Melinda said, “Riley, Scott and I can’t thank you enough.”
“Oh—it was my pleasure,” Riley said. “He’s a delight to have around.”
Scott shook his head and said, “I’d had no idea how bad things had gotten with my brother, Clarence. We’d been estranged for such a long time. The last I’d heard from him was years ago, when Liam’s mother left him. We should have stayed in better touch, if only for Liam’s sake.”
Riley wasn’t sure what to say. How much had Liam told his aunt and uncle about what had happened?
She remembered it all too vividly.
April had just started dating Liam, and Riley had taken a liking to him right away. But after a frantic call from April, Riley had rushed to Liam’s house and found him being beaten savagely by his drunken father. Riley had subdued the man, but leaving Liam in his care had been unthinkable. Riley had brought Liam home and set up a place for him to sleep in her family room.
This living situation had been precarious, of course.
Liam’s father kept calling and texting his son, promising to change and not to drink anymore—emotional blackmail, pure and simple. And it had been awfully hard for Liam.
Scott continued, “You could have knocked me over with a feather when Clarence called out of the blue last week. He sounded like he was out of his mind. He wanted my help getting Liam back. He said … well, he said some stuff, let me tell you.”
Riley could imagine some of the “stuff” Liam’s father had said—probably including what a vile, horrible person Riley was for taking Liam away from him.
“Clarence said he’d stopped drinking,” Scott said. “But I was sure he was drunk even when he called. Sending Liam back to him was a crazy idea. So there seemed to be only one thing to do.”
Riley felt an emotional jolt those words …
“… only one thing to do.”
Of course, that one thing wasn’t to let Liam stay and live with Riley’s family.
It was simple common sense.
He should go and live with his nearest relatives.
Melinda squeezed Scott’s hand and said to Riley, “Scott and I are empty nesters, you know. We raised three kids, two sons and a daughter. Our girl is finishing her last year of college, and the boys are married and successful and ready to start families of their own. So we’re alone in our big house and we mis
s hearing young voices. For us, this is the perfect time.”
Again, Riley felt a sharp twinge.
“… the perfect time …”
Of course it was the perfect time. What was more, these were obviously perfect people—or as nearly perfect as parents could be.
Probably a lot better at it than me, Riley thought.
She was a long, long way from balancing everything in her own complicated life—the duties of being a parent and the often conflicting, sometimes dangerous duties of being an FBI field agent.
In fact, she sometimes found it to be almost impossible, and having Liam here hadn’t made her life any easier.
She’d often felt as though she wasn’t giving nearly enough attention to her kids—including Liam. She had stretched herself much too thin when she took him in.
Besides, how could he keep living in that family room until he went to college?
Just how was Riley going to send him to college, anyway?
No, this really was for the best.
Jilly and April kept the conversation going, asking all about the couple’s children.
Meanwhile, Riley’s head was filling with worries.
She felt as though she’d gotten to know Liam well in just a short time. After years of estrangement from him and his father, what did these people know about him? She knew that Scott was the owner of a thriving bicycle store. He also seemed to be in remarkably good shape for his age.
Would he understand that Liam was by nature clumsy and nonathletic?
Anything but a jock, Liam loved to read and study, and he was the captain of his school chess team.
Would Scott and Linda know how to relate to him? Would they enjoy talking with him as much as Riley did? Would they share any of his interests?
Or would he wind up feeling lonely and out of place?
But Riley reminded herself that she had no business worrying about these things.
This really is for the best, she told herself again.
Soon—much too soon, as far as Riley was concerned—Scott and Melinda finished their cookies and coffee and thanked Gabriela for the delicious refreshments. The time had come for them to go. After all, it was going to be a long drive back to Omaha.