by Blake Pierce
She heard Meredith grunt a little.
“You certainly will, Agent Paige,” he said.
Riley gasped and caught her breath.
He’s giving me permission!
She suddenly realized that she’d barely been breathing during the conversation.
It took a lot of effort not to burst out into uncontrolled gales of gratitude.
She knew Meredith wouldn’t like that at all. And the last thing she wanted was for him to change his mind.
So she simply said, “Thank you.”
She heard another grunt.
Then Meredith said, “Tell your daughter to break a leg.”
He ended the call.
Riley breathed a sigh of relief, then glanced up and saw that Gabriela was standing in the doorway again, smiling.
She’d obviously been listening to the whole call.
“I think you are growing up, Señora Riley,” Gabriela said.
*
Sitting in the audience with April and Gabriela, Riley was thoroughly enjoying the school play. She’d forgotten how charming events like this could be.
The middle-school kids were all dressed in makeshift costumes. They had painted flat scenery to look like scenes from the story of Demeter and Persephone—fields full of flowers, a volcano in Sicily, the dank caverns of the Underworld, and other mythical places.
And Jilly’s acting was simply wonderful!
She played Persephone, the young daughter of grain goddess Demeter. Riley found herself remembering the familiar story as it unfolded.
Persephone was outside picking flowers one day when Hades, the god of the Underworld, rode by in his chariot and snatched her away. He took her down into the Underworld to be his queen. When Demeter realized what had happened to her daughter, she wailed with sorrow.
Riley felt chills at how convincingly the girl playing Demeter expressed her grief.
At that point, the story started getting to Riley in a way she hadn’t expected.
Persephone’s story seemed eerily like Jilly’s own. After all, it was the story of a girl who lost part of her childhood to forces much greater than herself.
Riley felt herself tearing up.
She knew the rest of the story very well. Persephone would regain her freedom, but only for half of every year. Whenever Persephone was gone, Demeter let the earth grow cold and dead. Whenever she came back, she brought the earth back to life, and springtime came again.
And that was how seasons had come into the world.
Riley squeezed April’s hand and whispered, “Here comes the sad part.”
Riley was surprised to hear April giggle.
“Not so sad,” April whispered back. “Jilly told me they changed the story a little. Just watch.”
Riley sat and paid close attention.
Fully in character as Persephone, Jilly cracked Hades over the head with a Grecian urn—actually a pillow in disguise. Then she stormed out of the Underworld and back to her overjoyed mother.
The boy playing Hades threw an enormous tantrum and brought winter to the world. He and Demeter then fought a tug-of-war, changing the seasons from winter to spring and back again, and so on again and again for the rest of time.
Riley was delighted.
When the play ended, Riley led the way backstage to congratulate Jilly. On their way, she ran into the teacher who had directed the play.
“I love what you did with the story!” Riley told the teacher. “It was so refreshing to see Persephone turned from a helpless victim to an independent heroine.”
The teacher smiled broadly.
“Don’t thank me,” she said. “It was Jilly’s idea.”
Riley rushed over to Jilly and gave her a big hug.
“I’m so proud of you!” Riley said.
“Thanks, Mom,” Jilly said, smiling happily.
Mom.
The word echoed through Riley. It meant more to her than she could say.
*
Later that night when they were all at home, Riley finally had to tell the girls she was leaving. She poked her head in Jilly’s door.
Jilly was fast asleep, exhausted from her great success. Riley loved the look of contentment on her face.
Then Riley went to April’s bedroom and looked in on her. April was sitting up in bed reading a book.
April looked up at her mother.
“Hey, Mom,” she said. “What’s up?”
Riley stepped quietly into the room.
She said, “This is going to seem weird but … I’ve got to leave right now. I’ve been assigned to a case in California.”
April smiled.
She said, “Jilly and I both pretty much guessed that was what your meeting back in Quantico was all about. And then we saw that go-bag on your bed. We actually thought you were going to leave before her play. You usually don’t pack it unless you’re out the door.”
She stared at Riley, her smile widening.
“But then you stayed,” she added. “I know you delayed the trip, at least for the play. Do you know how much that meant to us?”
Riley felt herself tear up. She leaned forward and the two of them embraced.
“So it’s OK if I go, then?” Riley asked.
“Sure, it’s OK. Jilly told me she hoped you’d catch some bad guys. She’s really proud of what you do, Mom. So am I.”
Riley felt moved beyond words. Both of her daughters were growing up so fast. And they were becoming really amazing young women.
She kissed April on the forehead.
“I love you, dear,” she said.
“I love you too,” April said.
Riley wagged her finger at April.
“Now what are you doing up?” she said. “Turn off that light and go to sleep. It’s a school night.”
April giggled and turned off the light. Riley went to her own bedroom to get her bag.
It was after midnight and she had to drive to DC in time for a commercial flight.
It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER SIX
The wolf lay on his stomach on the rough desert soil.
That’s how the man thought of himself—a beast stalking his next kill.
He had an excellent view of Fort Nash Mowat from this high place, and the night air was pleasant and cool. He peered at tonight’s prey through the night-vision scope on his rifle.
He thought back to his hated victims.
Three weeks ago it had been Rolsky.
Then came Fraser.
Then came Worthing.
He’d taken them out with great finesse, with shots to the head so clean they surely hadn’t even known a bullet had hit them.
Tonight, it would be Barton.
The wolf watched Barton walking along an unlit path. Although the image through the night scope was grainy and monotone, the target was sufficiently visible for his purposes.
But he wouldn’t shoot tonight’s prey—not yet.
He wasn’t far enough away. Someone nearby might be able to figure out his location, even though he had attached a flash hider to his M110 sniper rifle. He wasn’t going to make the amateurish mistake of underestimating the soldiers on this base.
Following Barton through his scope, the wolf enjoyed the feel of the M110 in his hands. These days the Army was transitioning toward using the Heckler & Koch G28 as a standard sniper rifle. While the wolf knew the G28 was lighter and more compact, he still preferred the M110. It was more accurate, even if it was longer and harder to conceal.
He had twenty rounds in the magazine, but he only intended to use one when the time came to fire.
He was going to take out Barton with one shot, or not at all.
He could feel the energy of the pack, as though they were watching him, giving him their support.
He watched as Barton finally arrived at his destination—one of the base’s outdoor tennis courts. Several other players greeted him as he stepped onto the court and unpacked his tennis gear.
Now that Barton was in the brightly lit area, the wolf had no further need of the night scope. He detached it to use the day optical sight. Then he took aim directly at Barton’s head. The image was no longer grainy, but crystal clear and in full, vivid color.
Barton was about three hundred feet away now.
At that range, the wolf could depend upon the rifle’s precision down to an inch.
It was up to him to stay within that inch.
And he knew that he would.
Just a slight squeeze of the trigger, he thought.
That was all that was needed now.
The wolf basked in that mysterious, suspended moment.
There was something almost religious about those seconds before pulling the trigger, when he waited for himself to will the shot, waited for himself to decide to squeeze with his finger. During that moment, life and death seemed strangely out of his hands. The irrevocable move would happen in the fullness of an instant.
It would be his decision—and yet not his decision at all.
Whose decision was it, then?
He fancied that there was an animal, a true wolf, lurking inside him, a remorseless creature that took actual command over that fatal moment and movement.
That animal was both his friend and his enemy. And he loved it with a strange love that he could only feel toward a mortal enemy. That inner animal was what called out the best in him, kept him truly up to the mark.
The wolf lay waiting for that animal to strike.
But the animal didn’t.
The wolf didn’t pull the trigger.
He wondered why.
Something seems wrong, he thought.
It quickly occurred to him what it was.
The view of the target in the glaring tennis court floodlights through the regular scope was simply too clear.
It would take too little effort.
There was no challenge.
It wouldn’t be worthy of a true wolf.
Also, it was too soon after the last killing. The others had been spaced out to stir up anxiety and uncertainty among the men he loathed. Shooting Barton now would disrupt the psychological rhythmic impact of his work.
He smiled a little at the realization. He got to his feet with his gun and started to walk back the way he’d come.
He felt right about leaving his prey undisturbed for now.
No one knew when he’d strike next.
Not even he himself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was still dark when Riley’s commercial flight took off. But even with the time change, she knew it would be daylight in San Diego when she got there. She was going to be in the air for more than five hours and she was already feeling quite tired. She had to be fully functional tomorrow morning when she joined Bill and Lucy for the investigation. There would be serious work to do, and she needed to be ready for it.
I’d better get some sleep, Riley thought. The woman seated next to her already seemed to be dozing.
Riley tilted her chair back and closed her eyes. But instead of falling asleep, she found herself remembering Jilly’s play.
She smiled as she recalled how Jilly’s Persephone had bonked Hades over the head and escaped the Underworld to live life on her own terms.
Remembering how she had first found Jilly made Riley’s heart ache. It had been night in a truck stop parking lot in Phoenix. Jilly had run away from a miserable home life with an abusive father and climbed into the cab of a parked truck. She had fully intended to sell her body to its driver whenever he came back.
Riley shuddered.
What would have become of Jilly if she hadn’t stumbled across her that night?
Friends and colleagues had often told Riley what a good thing she’d done by bringing Jilly into her life.
So why didn’t she feel better about it? Instead, she felt pangs of despair.
After all, there were countless Jillys in the world, and very few of them were ever rescued from terrible lives.
Riley couldn’t help all of them, any more than she could rid the world of all vicious killers.
It’s all so futile, she thought. Everything I do.
She opened her eyes and looked out the window. The jet had left the lights of DC behind, and outside there was nothing but impenetrable darkness.
As she peered into the black night, she thought about her meeting that day with Bill, Lucy, and Meredith, and what little she knew about the upcoming case. Meredith had said that the three victims were shot from a long distance by a skilled marksman.
What did that tell her about the killer?
That killing was a sport to him?
Or that he was on some kind of sinister mission?
One thing seemed certain—the killer knew what he was doing, and he was good at it.
The case was definitely going to be a challenge.
Meanwhile, Riley’s eyelids were feeling heavy.
Maybe I can get some sleep, she thought. Again she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.
*
Riley was staring at what looked like thousands of Rileys, all of them standing at odd angles toward each other, becoming smaller and finally vanishing into the distance.
She turned a little, and so did all the other Rileys.
She lifted her arm, and the others did as well.
Then she reached out, and her hand came in contact with a glass surface.
I’m in a hall of mirrors, Riley realized.
But how had she gotten here? And how was she going to get out?
She heard a voice call out …
“Riley!”
It was a woman’s voice, and somehow familiar to her.
“I’m here!” Riley called back. “Where are you?”
“I’m here too.”
Suddenly, Riley saw her.
She was standing directly in front of her, in the midst of the multitude of reflections.
She was a slight, attractive young woman, wearing a dress that looked many decades out of style.
Riley immediately knew who it was.
“Mommy!” she said in a stunned whisper.
She was surprised to hear that her own voice was now that of a little girl.
“What are you doing here?” Riley asked.
“I just came to say goodbye,” Mommy said with a smile.
Riley struggled to understand what was happening.
Then she remembered …
Mommy had been shot to death right before Riley’s eyes in a candy store when Riley was only six years old.
But here Mommy was, looking exactly the same as when Riley had last seen her alive.
“Where are you going, Mommy?” Riley asked. “Why do you have to go?”
Mommy smiled and touched the glass that stood between them.
“I’m at peace now, thanks to you. I can move on now.”
Little by little, Riley started to understand.
Not long ago, she had tracked down her mother’s killer.
He was now a pathetic old vagrant living under a bridge.
Riley had left him there, realizing that his life had been punishment enough for his terrible crime.
Riley reached out and touched the glass that separated her from Mommy’s hand.
“But you can’t go, Mommy,” she said. “I’m just a little girl.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” Mommy said, her face radiant and blissful. “Just look at yourself.”
Riley looked at her own reflection in the mirror next to Mommy.
It was true.
Riley was a grown woman now.
It seemed strange to realize that she was now much older than her mother had lived to be.
But Riley also looked tired and sad in comparison with her youthful mother.
She’ll never grow any older, Riley thought.
The same was not true for Riley.
And she knew that her world was full of trials and challenges still to be endured.
Was she ever going t
o get any rest from it? Would she ever be at peace for the rest of her life?
She found herself envying her mother’s timeless, eternally peaceful joy.
Then her mother turned and walked away, disappearing into the infinite tangle of reflections of Riley.
Suddenly there came a terrible crash, and all the mirrors shattered.
Riley was standing in near-total darkness, up to her ankles in broken glass.
She gently pulled her feet out one by one, then tried to make her way through the wreckage.
“Watch your step,” said another familiar voice.
Riley turned and saw a rugged old man with a lined, hard, and weathered face.
Riley gasped.
“Daddy!” she said.
Her father smirked at her surprise.
“You hoped I was dead, didn’t you?” he said. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Riley opened her mouth to contradict him.
But then she realized he was right. She hadn’t grieved when he had died last October.
And she certainly didn’t want him back in her life.
After all, he’d scarcely ever said a kind word to her in all his days.
“Where have you been?” Riley asked.
“Where I’ve been all along,” her father said.
The scene began to change from a vast expanse of broken glass to become the outside of her father’s cabin in the woods.
He was now standing on the front stoop.
“You might need my help on this case,” he said. “It sounds like your killer’s a soldier. I know a lot about soldiers. And I know a lot about killing.”
It was true. Her father had been a captain in Vietnam. She had no idea how many men he’d killed in the line of duty.
But the last thing she wanted was his help.
“It’s time for you to go,” Riley said.
Her father’s smirk twisted into a sneer.
“Oh, no,” he said. “I’m just settling in.”
His face and body changed shape. In a matter of moments, he was younger, stronger, dark-skinned, even more menacing than before.
He was now Shane Hatcher.
The transformation struck Riley with terror.
Her father had always been a cruel presence in her life.
But she was coming to dread Hatcher even more.