by Blake Pierce
Bill said, “You can’t take her off the case and not me too.”
“I most certainly can, Agent Jeffreys,” Walder said. “We’ll deal with your insubordination later on. Right now I need to you to keep working with Huang and Creighton.”
Riley sensed that Bill was about to protest. She gave him a sharp nudge to silence him. Then she got up from her chair and headed for the door. In a flash, Bill was on his feet and walking beside her.
“I’m not putting up with this, Riley,” he said. “If you go, I go.”
Riley stopped in her tracks and looked at Bill.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she said. “We’ve been through this before. You’re staying right here. If you go, there won’t be anyone to let me know what’s happening. And there won’t be anybody competent working on this case. You’ve got to stay and try to keep Creighton and Walder from screwing everything up.”
Bill shook his head skeptically.
“That’s a pretty tall order,” he said.
“Well, consider it an order anyway,” Riley said firmly. Then she let a grin change her stern expression. “I’m counting on you. Keep me in the loop.”
“Where are you going to go now?” Bill asked.
Riley couldn’t help but chuckle.
“I don’t exactly know,” she said. “It wasn’t like Walder offered me a flight back to Quantico in the FBI jet. Don’t worry about me, I’ll manage. Now get back to work.”
Bill nodded and said, “Let me know where you are.”
He patted Riley on the shoulder and walked back toward the table. Riley went outside.
At the far end of the parking lot, she saw that a tow truck was taking away Amber Turner’s SUV. Her eye was caught by something lying on the ground where the car had been.
A clue maybe?
She broke into a run to see what it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Riley saw a small scrap of colorful paper lying on the pavement in the spot where the murdered woman’s car had been. Breathless with anticipation, she picked it up and looked at it in the light of a parking lot lamp.
It was a photo that appeared to have been clipped out of a magazine. It showed an old brick mansion with a wraparound porch and stately columns. She pulled out her flashlight to see the image better. If there had been a caption, a story, or a headline, it had been cut away. Riley turned the picture over. A jumble of shapes and partial words looked like they might be part of a magazine ad.
Where could it have come from?
Judging from where it lay on the pavement, Riley thought the picture might well have fallen out of the door to the SUV when Amber Turner’s body had been removed by the medical examiner’s team.
Or maybe not, she thought.
If it was a clue, had it been left here deliberately or accidentally? And what might it mean?
Her mind raced as she tried to make any kind of meaningful connection between the picture and the murder that had happened on this spot. Then she remembered the note that had arrived by mail in Rhodes’ rented room in Philadelphia.
Glad you like the house in the picture. It will suit your purposes well. You’ll be expected there very soon.
Was this the house the note had referred to? Was the picture connected to the killer rather than to the victim?
The note had been addressed to Orin Rhodes, but with no clue who had sent it.
Again, Riley felt a creeping worry that it had been Shane Hatcher, and that he had left the picture here, and that he was playing her for a fool. However much she doubted it, she couldn’t deny that it was a possibility.
Regardless of who had sent it, where was this house? Was Orin Rhodes staying there right now? How could she find out anything about it?
Riley looked back toward the bar. For a moment, she thought about hurrying back to the meeting and bringing the photo to the team’s attention. Maybe together, the agents could figure out what it meant. It was likely that the technicians at Quantico could run down the source of the image.
But she quickly decided that it would be futile. If Walder was still online, he’d just remind her that she was off the case. And if the videoconference had ended, Emily Creighton was now the agent in charge. Creighton would categorically ignore anything Riley brought to her attention.
It was, after all, just a piece of trash in the parking lot.
Riley felt her spirits sinking and despair rising. She knew that part of it was simple exhaustion. In a single day, she had flown from Quantico to Sing Sing, then to Philadelphia, and now here to Florida. She needed a good night’s sleep before making any decisions about what to do next.
But then she realized:
Where am I going to spend the night?
She smiled bitterly, admitting that she had no idea. Doubtless, accommodations had been reserved for the team from Quantico. But Riley didn’t feel like going back to ask about a room, much less waiting for someone to give her a ride. She remembered that they had driven past a small motel on the way here. It was within walking distance of the sports bar. With luck, there would be some vacancies. This didn’t seem like a busy time of the year.
She was also pretty sure that she had spotted a liquor store nearby.
I could really use a drink, Riley thought, as she trudged along the dark road alone.
*
The motel room was shabby and smelled a little musty. But it had a bed and a bathroom and Riley had found the bottle of bourbon she needed. Before she got too settled in, she had a call to make. She was long overdue to touch base with April. Hoping her daughter would still be awake, she got out her laptop and called her for a video chat.
When April answered, she looked and sounded surprisingly cheerful.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?”
Before Riley could reply, she noticed something odd about April’s surroundings. It didn’t look like the safe house motel room. It looked like she was in a large and attractive room with large windows.
“Where are you?” she asked.
April giggled.
“Well, I guess Dad and I’ve got some explaining to do,” she said. “Hey, Dad, come on over. It’s Mom.”
In a moment, Ryan’s face joined April’s on the screen.
“I guess you’re wondering what this is all about,” Ryan said, smiling.
Riley was starting to panic.
“Where the hell are the two of you?” she asked.
Both Ryan and April looked a bit surprised at her sharp tone.
“Hey, chill out, Mom, there’s nothing to get upset about,” April said.
“Remember how much April loved Chincoteague when she was little?” Ryan said.
Riley gasped.
“Ryan, please don’t tell me that’s where you are,” she said.
“Come on, Riley,” he said. “That place was an insult to April. To all of us.”
Riley struggled to collect her wits.
“It was safe,” Riley snapped. “Ryan, what in God’s name were you thinking? How long have you been there?”
“We just got here,” Ryan said. “Listen, Riley, I didn’t mean to alarm you. April was feeling so bad about being in that dump. I was trying to be helpful.”
“Where are the agents who were guarding her at the safe house?” Riley asked.
“We told the agent on duty that we were leaving,” Ryan said.
“You don’t have anyone there protecting you?”
“I have this,” he replied, holding up a small pistol.
“Cool, huh?” April chimed in.
Riley knew about the gun. Ryan had had it for a few years now. It was a .22-caliber revolver—little more than a toy, as far as Riley was concerned. It certainly wouldn’t do Ryan any good against a ruthless killer like Rhodes.
“Have you ever even fired that thing?” she demanded.
“Of course,” Ryan snapped. “I’m not stupid. I took the short course, and I was pretty good at it too.”
Riley drew a deep breath. N
othing would be gained by fighting with her ex-husband right now. “Does anybody know where you are?” she asked.
“Nope,” April said. “Not even the FBI.”
“Well, you’re going to tell me right now. But nobody else. Do you hear me?”
April rolled her eyes.
“Jeez, OK, Mom. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”
Ryan gave Riley the address, and Riley carefully wrote it down.
Then she said, “I don’t want either of you to leave that house.”
“Mom,” April complained, “we’re smart enough not to wander around outside.”
“Don’t even step outside the door. And stay away from windows.”
Ryan was looking embarrassed now.
“I’m sorry, Riley,” he said. “We will be careful.”
“I’ve got to go,” Riley said. “I’m going to have an agent come out there.”
“All right,” Ryan replied. “I don’t really think it’s necessary but if it will make you feel better—”
Riley ended the call. She immediately picked up her phone and dialed Lucy Vargas’s number. Lucy sounded surprised to hear from Riley at this hour.
Riley said, “Did you know that April’s not at the motel?”
She heard Lucy gasp with disbelief.
“What?” Lucy asked.
“Who was watching her a couple of hours ago at the safe house?”
“It was Darlene Olsen’s shift,” Lucy said.
Riley remembered Darlene Olsen. Riley had considered her a promising young agent, but now it appeared that she was rather easily duped.
“Lucy, do you know where Chincoteague is?”
“Yes,” Lucy said.
“How soon can you get there?”
Lucy fell silent for a moment.
“I’ve got an assignment first thing tomorrow morning,” Lucy said. “If I go tonight, I’ll just have to drive right back again. It’ll be better for me to send someone else. I’ll get in touch with Darlene, tell her to get over there right away.”
“Do that,” Riley said. “And thanks.”
Riley gave Lucy the address and ended the call. Then she sat on the edge of the bed, her mind reeling from Ryan’s sheer stupidity. She wished she could go to Chincoteague herself right now. But there was no way she could get there in time to do any good. She hoped that Darlene Olsen would get there in a hurry.
Meanwhile, she desperately needed something to calm her nerves. She was glad she’d bought a bottle of bourbon. She poured herself a glass. But she had barely taken a couple of sips before she got a video chat request.
The call was from Jilly in Phoenix, and Riley answered it cheerfully. Each time she had talked with Jilly, the girl looked healthier than before. It was almost hard to remember the abused and undernourished waif she’d met in Phoenix.
“Hey, Riley,” Jilly said.
“Hey, yourself,” Riley replied with a smile. “So what’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing much,” Jilly said.
Jilly’s voice and expression were bored and a bit sullen. Riley wondered what might be wrong. But then, she told herself, Jilly was a young teenager and that was a pretty typical expression.
“Are you ready to go back to school?” Riley asked.
“I’m flunking algebra,” Jilly said matter-of-factly.
“What are you going to do about that?”
Jilly popped her bubble gum.
“Study harder, I guess,” she said.
“Sounds like you’d better do that.”
Jilly lowered her eyes.
“Riley, this just isn’t working,” Jilly said.
“What’s not working?”
“Living here. With the Flaxmans.”
Riley’s heart sank. She had thought that things were going fine in Jilly’s new foster home.
“What’s wrong?” Riley asked.
“I don’t know,” Jilly said with a shrug. “It’s just not home, that’s all. I’m just a visitor.”
After a pause, Jilly added, “I think I’ll just go back and live with my dad.”
Riley could hardly believe her ears. Jilly’s father was drunk and abusive. Child Protective Services had gone to a lot of trouble to get her away from him.
“That’s just crazy talk, Jilly.”
“Well, at least he’s really family.”
“No. He’s not.”
Riley saw Jilly’s eyes start to fill up with tears.
“You’re right, he’s not,” Jilly said in a thick voice. “I don’t have any family at all. Except …”
“I can’t adopt you, Jilly,” Riley said.
“Why …”
Jilly’s voice trailed off. But Riley knew what she wanted to say. Riley swallowed hard. She and Jilly had had this conversation before. It never ended well.
Riley simply didn’t know where to begin. Right now, she had her hands full just trying to keep April safe. After fifteen years, she was only starting to feel like an adequate mother. Trying to raise Jilly would be more of a challenge than she could possibly deal with—especially if she hoped to keep working.
Besides, she was sure that the idea was just a fantasy to Jilly, an escape from reality—even the good reality she now had. Jilly had spent thirteen years feeling hopeless, helpless, and unloved. She’d never learned anything else. Now that she was being cared for by a loving family, she didn’t know how to handle it.
Riley knew that she had to be firm.
“You’ve got to give yourself time with the Flaxmans, sweetie,” Riley said, trying to keep her voice under control.
“How long?” Jilly asked.
Tears were pouring down her cheeks now.
“You’re in a good place, Jilly,” Riley said. “You’re with good people. I’m sorry, but you’ve just got to do your best.”
Jilly didn’t say anything. She just wiped her eyes.
“I’ve got to go now,” Riley said. “You take care of yourself.”
Jilly still didn’t say anything. Riley ended the call. She sat there, aching inside.
She took a deep swallow of the bourbon. It burned going down, and it felt wonderful.
Maybe it will help me get some sleep, she thought, as she took several more swallows in a row.
“Happy New Year,” she muttered to herself as she felt unconsciousness coming on.
She realized that her dreams were going to take her into some very dark places. She shrugged off the worry. After all, it was just as well. Dark places were exactly where she needed to go right now.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Riley felt a flash of déjà vu. She was engulfed by thick swirling snow and she knew that the storm concealed a terrible threat. She’d been here before. She was sure of it. But she couldn’t remember when or how.
Now a shadowy figure was running toward her through the snow. She remembered that too, but couldn’t quite say who it was or what was happening. For a moment the snow obscured the figure completely, then it cleared enough to reveal a person whose hand was raised—not in greeting, Riley knew, but pointing a gun directly at her.
Riley drew her own Glock and fired. The figure stopped running but didn’t fall. Desperately, Riley fired again, and again, and again …
Then the snow cleared away and everything came to a standstill. Riley found herself facing a pretty, rather awkward-looking girl about April’s age.
Riley knew that it was Heidi Wright.
She was bleeding from the bullets Riley had fired. Heidi just stood there and smiled. Then the snow began falling again and the girl began to speak.
“It’s no good,” the girl said. “You can’t kill love. And Orin loves me. I’ll always be with him.”
The figure twisted and writhed until it morphed into someone else. Now it was Orin Rhodes himself, looking as young as he’d been when Riley had killed his girlfriend.
“Now you know,” Orin said, still smiling. “It’s all for Heidi. All the killing that I’ve d
one, all the killing that’s yet to do. Especially yours, Riley Paige. You’re going to pay for what you did to her—and to me.”
Still smiling, Orin Rhodes slowly turned and walked away into the falling snow.
Riley found herself alone in the blizzard. There was no sign of the girl she had killed or the boy who had declared vengeance. There was no sound except the cold wind.
She called out, hoping someone would hear her—someone who cared and understood.
“Please tell me. Was I wrong? Was what I did so terrible that other people have to die? Do I deserve this?”
Riley felt a strong hand touch her shoulder from behind.
“You did all that you could,” a gruff but kindly voice said. “You did exactly what you had to do.”
The voice was familiar, at once stern and kindly. It gave Riley tremendous comfort. But when she turned around to face the speaker, no one was there. She saw nothing but whirling snow.
“Come back!” she called out desperately. “Help me!”
Riley awoke in her motel bed with tears pouring down her face. No light was coming through the window, so dawn had not yet come. She remembered every detail of her dream perfectly. And she still felt the same grief, horror, and confusion.
More memories brought more despair—memories of yesterday, and being fired from the case. It finally hit her that it was over—everything she valued and held dear in life. She might as well give up. Even Bill couldn’t help her now.
I’m through, she thought, weeping harder now. At long last, I’m through.
Worst of all, she was alone.
Then she remembered something else from her dream—that firm but gentle touch, that tough but kindly voice.
“You did all that you could. You did exactly what you had to do.”
Who had given her that comfort? Who said those words?
Then she remembered—she hadn’t been alone on that fateful day sixteen years ago when she’d shot down Heidi Wright. Someone had been by her side that day and many days afterward. Someone to comfort, nurture, and teach her.