Once Lured

by Blake Pierce

  Finally she said, “You were just so little. You were five, and I was fifteen. And I told you I was just going to stay overnight with some friends. You were too little to wonder why I’d packed so many things. I didn’t say goodbye.”

  After another pause, she added, “I feel like I abandoned you.”

  Riley was shocked beyond belief. She realized that she remembered absolutely nothing about that moment, when Wendy had left for good. But somehow it seemed wrong to say that.

  “You didn’t abandon me,” Riley said. “Daddy hit you.”

  Riley heard Wendy let out a single sob.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Riley said. “Nothing was your fault.”

  Wendy replied with an uneasy laugh.

  “Thanks for saying that,” Wendy said.

  “I mean it.”

  Neither of them said anything for a moment.

  “Well, I’ve got to go,” Wendy finally said. “I’ve got a lot to do here. And I hope—”

  Wendy seemed unable to finish the sentence.

  “You take care of yourself, Riley.”

  Wendy ended the call. Riley sat there wondering what she was going to say she hoped for. Perhaps that they could get together sometime, or at least stay in better touch? But how was that even possible? They’d never had any kind of relationship, had never been real sisters. Was it possible to change that now?

  Riley realized that she was shaking all over. A momentous force in her life had just passed away, and she had no idea what to feel. The truth was, she couldn’t get it through her head that Daddy was really dead. She could still hear his voice loud and clear.

  She distinctly remembered him saying, “It’ll be too late to thank me later. It’s now or never.”

  But she realized that he hadn’t said that in real life. It was in a recent dream.

  Now, under her breath, she repeated what she’d said in the same dream.

  “You’ll never get a word of thanks from me.”

  She swallowed down the rest of her glass of scotch and poured herself another. The phone rang. Riley was sure that it was Wendy again. She was glad. Maybe they could end their conversation on a better note.

  “I’m glad you called back,” she said.

  She heard the sound of harsh laughter.

  “That’s nice to hear,” a man’s voice said. “I get lonely listening to the sound of my own voice.”

  She recognized the voice at once. It was Shane Hatcher, a prisoner at Sing Sing. He’d been incarcerated there for several decades, serving a life sentence for a number of brutal murders he’d committed as a youthful gangbanger. In prison he’d become something of a criminology expert, and he had helped Riley with a couple of cases. But he was a manipulative and dangerous man, and Riley had hoped she was through with him.

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” Riley said.

  More than even with her sister, Riley hoped that he couldn’t detect a note of intoxication in her voice.

  Hatcher laughed again.

  “Oh, come on, Riley. Don’t be like that. I’ve missed you. And you’ve missed me too. Admit it.”

  Riley wanted to tell him, no, she had absolutely not missed him. But was that altogether true? Some part of her was perversely drawn to Shane, like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t physical attraction—not that at all. She could never love a monster like that. It was just that he had a brilliant but evil mind, and he fascinated her, and she couldn’t help but want to understand him better. That was why he terrified her so deeply.

  “I hear your daddy hasn’t been well,” Shane said.

  Riley’s skin prickled all over.

  “Where did you hear that?”

  He chuckled some more. “Oh, I get around.”

  It was a joke, of course. But Riley didn’t laugh. This worried her. How did he know about her father’s illness? Doubtless he’d used the Internet to find out. Hatcher probably knew how to get all kinds of information that way. And now it seemed that he must be keeping obsessive track of her.

  So what kinds of things might a cunning man like Shane have found out about her online? Her birthday? Her Social Security number? Where she lived? Her yearly income? The terms of her divorce settlement? Worst of all, what might he know about April?

  She felt queasy all over at the possibilities.

  “So how’s your daddy doing?” Shane asked. “Do you think he’ll pull through?”

  There was a sarcastic edge to the question. Shane obviously suspected otherwise. Riley said nothing.

  Shane chuckled darkly.

  “Oh. He died, huh?”

  Riley still said nothing.

  “Well, I’m sure you got a chance to clear up your differences before he moved on to a better place,” he said, his sarcasm thickening. “That’s something. That’s all that matters. I’m happy for you both.”

  The words stung. Riley knew they were supposed to. Shane knew perfectly well that there could have been no such reconciliation. He was somehow fascinated by her relationship with her father. The last time she’d seen Shane, he’d told her, “You don’t give your daddy enough respect.”

  And, “You should listen to your daddy.”

  Now he was going to try to play on her feelings of guilt. But that wouldn’t work. She didn’t have any feelings of guilt.

  She almost ended the call at that very moment. But it was as if Shane knew her intention and kept right on talking.

  “Wait a minute. Let’s chat a bit. Let’s catch up. I hear you’re working on a case in Delaware. And I hear you’ve got some kind of ‘clock’ theory about him. Tell me more. You know how much I love this kind of thing.”

  “I’m not telling you anything,” Riley said.

  Shane chuckled again.

  “You should come up and see me in Sing Sing,” he said. “We could kick around some ideas. You know I could help.”

  Riley bristled with anger and frustration. The truth was, he just might be right. Her past visits to him had been painful but productive. He’d supplied vital insights into the minds of two killers. His advice had helped her a lot.

  But this had to stop. Even behind bars, he was too dangerous to deal with.

  “Don’t call me again,” she said.

  With a tone of mock hurt, Shane said, “So you’re not going to come see me?”

  “No.”

  Riley abruptly ended the call. For a moment, it felt good to have had the last word—“no.” Then she stared at the telephone apprehensively. Was he going to call back right away? If so, it wouldn’t be enough to simply ignore whatever message he left.

  She relaxed a little as minutes passed and no call came. Still, she doubted that she’d gotten free of him for long. Although he said otherwise, Shane Hatcher was not a man who could take no for an answer.

  She sat down to look at the photos again, but her mind wasn’t clear. Now she was simply drunk. She felt dizzy, and her eyes were losing focus, and she couldn’t put together a complete idea. She lay down on the sofa, closed her eyes, and fell into a troubled sleep. Images of emaciated corpses filled her dreams.

  *

  Riley awoke to the smell and sound of sizzling bacon in the kitchen. She realized that Gabriela was cooking breakfast. Riley’s head was splitting. She sat up and looked down at the coffee table, where she saw the photos from last night and an open bottle of scotch and a partially drunk glass.

  She carried the glass and the bottle into the kitchen. She put the bottle back in its cabinet and poured the remaining scotch in the glass into the sink.

  Gabriela was hunched over the stove, humming a song. Riley felt horribly ashamed and embarrassed. Gabriela couldn’t have helped but notice Riley passed out on the couch when she came upstairs this morning.

  “Buenos días, Gabriela,” Riley said shyly.

  Gabriela turned around and smiled at her.

  “Buenos días, Señora Riley.”

  There wasn’t a trace of judgment or reproach in Gabriela’s smile. It was full of
silent sympathy and understanding. As she often did, Riley felt a surge of gratitude to have such a warm and kindly woman in her life—and in April’s life as well.

  Riley walked back in the living room just in time to hear a wail of despair from upstairs. A few seconds later, April came galloping down the stairs, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Riley asked.

  April paced and spoke in an accusing voice.

  “Joel just called. He’s breaking up with me. And it’s really, really final. I hope you’re happy. It’s all your fault. He says you’re crazy. He says he doesn’t want to be mixed up with a girl with a crazy mom like mine.”

  Riley managed not to smile. She remembered how she’d roughed him up and given him an ultimatum to stay away from April.

  “I’ll make your life hell,” she’d promised. “You’ll be damned lucky if all I do is arrest you.”

  Apparently Joel had gotten the message.

  Riley hugged April and sat down with her on the couch. She handed April a box of tissues. Gabriela silently came in with coffee for both of them, then went back into the kitchen.

  “Why did you have to do that?” April blubbered. “Coming to get me like I was a little kid. It was so humiliating.”

  Riley patted her on the back. April pulled away from her.

  She said, “Well, if you don’t want me to treat you like a little kid, you’ll have to act more like an adult. I came to get you because you were grounded. You weren’t supposed to be out. I had every right. And when I saw him and that place where he lived …”

  Riley paused for a moment.

  “That boy’s wrong for you,” Riley said. “He’s too old for you and—he’s just wrong for you.”

  “That’s not up to you to decide,” April sobbed.

  Riley chuckled a little. “Actually, it is up to me to decide. You’re fifteen years old.”

  “So how long am I grounded for now?”

  Riley fought off the temptation to say something like, “Until you’re thirty.”

  Instead she said, “That’s completely up to you. Prove to me that you don’t need to be grounded. When you start acting grown up enough to make these kinds of decisions, be my guest, make your own decisions. It really gets pretty tiring.”

  Riley put her arms around April, and April didn’t pull away.

  “Am I wrong?” Riley asked quietly.

  “Huh-uh,” April muttered, crying in Riley’s arms.

  Riley hugged April.

  “Then come on,” she said. “Gabriela’s got breakfast ready.”

  *

  Little was said between Riley and April over breakfast, but Riley got the strong feeling that things were back on the right track. After they had finished eating, April went back upstairs to shower and get dressed. Today was Saturday, so she planned to get together with Crystal and do homework.

  Riley went back in the living room and noticed again the materials on the coffee table. She was sure that she was right about the women being posed to indicate hours on a clock. She looked at the photos again.

  Five … six … seven … eight … nine …

  Her theory was right. The killer was obsessed with time. And how long did they have before he decided to mark the hour of ten? Another woman’s life depended on someone finding out.

  Nobody else seemed to believe her theory, but nobody else had come up with any leads to the killer either. They weren’t even close to catching him.

  Riley tingled all over with a renewed sense of urgency. It didn’t matter that Walder had taken her off the case. It was her job to prevent more women from suffering so horribly and dying at this killer’s hands.

  She knew she had to get back to Delaware.

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  Meara closed her eyes and concentrated on following Dr. Ralston’s directions. He had hypnotized her several times now. She never remembered exactly what he said to her when she was hypnotized, but after each time, she seemed to remember something about her captivity that she hadn’t before.

  She found these sessions a little creepy, but she didn’t want to tell him that. He was trying to help. And he was a nice man.

  “Relax now,” the doctor’s voice was saying yet again. “Relax your toes, your feet, your legs.”

  As he guided her along, Meara began to feel like she was floating in air rather than lying in the hospital bed. As all her muscles went soft, she could no longer feel the cast on her leg. It felt nice to escape from that uncomfortable, itchy thing.

  “Now I want you to go back to that place you’ve talked about,” the doctor murmured. “That basement with the clocks.”

  The scene started to take shape around her—a scene that she’d described to Dr. Ralston before. She was in a fenced area in a gray room. She could see clocks nearby. All kinds of clocks.

  “I’m scared,” Meara said.

  “Don’t be. It’s like I’ve told you before, you are safe at all times. Nothing will harm you. This place may seem real, but it’s all in your mind now. Are you there?”

  Meara’s fear seeped away, and she was comfortable again.

  “I’m here,” she said.

  “Good,” Dr. Ralston said. “Are you alone?”

  It struck Meara as odd that Ralston asked this same question every time he hypnotized her. But she gave the same answer as always.

  “No,” she said. “Three other girls are here. Chelsea, Elise, and Kimberly.”

  All was quiet for a moment. Meara knew what Dr. Ralston was going to ask next. She hoped that she could answer this time. The other times, she had been too frightened to remember.

  “Do you see the man who held you captive?”

  Meara’s breath quickened. For the first time, she could make out his image. He was standing just inside the fence staring at the other girls.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I can see him.”

  “What does he look like?”

  The picture became sharp and vivid. Meara reminded herself not to be frightened.

  “He’s white. In his thirties. Not really tall but very strong. Medium build. Dark straight hair. His eyes are dark. And wild looking, like a crazy person. They always seemed black to me. Like the devil’s. My grandmum always said the devil has black eyes.”

  “You mean he has brown eyes?” Dr. Ralston asked.

  “Yes.”

  Then something horrible came back to her.

  “He’s killing one of us! He’s killing Chelsea! He’s breaking her neck!”

  She almost started crying.

  “Don’t worry, Meara. It’s only a memory. It can’t hurt you. Today you will be able to tell me something else new. You will tell me how you left this room. Look around you and tell me where you got out.”

  In her trance, Meara looked all around the gray room. Something kept drawing her eyes upward. That had happened before, but she had never seen exactly what was up there. Today it was a little different.

  “I see a glow of light up high,” she said.

  “Up high?” Dr. Ralston. “Do you mean a window?”

  At his suggestion, she saw it vividly—a rectangular window at the top of the wall, with sunlight pouring through its panes.

  “Yes, it’s a window,” Meara said.

  “So you climbed up to a high window and got out of the room?”

  “Yes, that must be it,” she said.

  She tried to remember how she had done it. Was she able to reach the base of the window from the floor, then pull herself up with her arms? Was she even strong enough to do that? If not, how had she gotten up there? But Dr. Ralston didn’t seem to be worried about such details. She decided that she needn’t worry about them either.

  “Wonderful!” Dr. Ralston said. “Now picture yourself outside the window. You have escaped the room where you were held. You are free. Look around you. Tell me what you see.”

  A few moments passed, but nothing came.

  “It’s all gray, like a fog,” she said.<
br />
  Dr. Ralston kept talking in his soothing, comforting tone.

  “That’s fine. Breathe deeply. Just relax. Nothing can hurt you. Just keep looking around.”

  She felt happier now. She wondered—was it because she remembered getting free, or because the memories were coming easier, and much more clearly? It was probably a bit of both, she figured. Anyway, it was a very good feeling. It was the best feeling she’d had in a very long time.

  “Are you tired?” Dr. Ralston asked. “Do you want to take a break?”

  She thought for a moment. But she didn’t want to disappoint anybody, especially not Dr. Ralston. Especially when she was feeling more and more confident by the moment.

  “No,” Meara said. “Let’s keep going. I want to keep going.”

  *

  After her drive back from Fredericksburg, Riley parked in front of the police station in Ohlman. She wondered what kind of situation was awaiting her here. The only thing she knew for sure was that she wasn’t going to be welcomed with open arms. Quite the opposite.

  Before she got out of the car, she texted Bill.

  I’m in Ohlman. Where can I meet U?

  Bill replied, ????

  Riley smiled. Of course he was surprised.

  U need my help, she texted.

  Bill’s response came quickly.

  Walder’s going to go ballistic.

  Riley hesitated. Walder was here? He had said he was going to leave in his helicopter yesterday. He must have decided to give the case his personal attention now that an important figure was involved.

  She knew Bill was right. Walder would have a fit but she didn’t care.

  Where can I meet U? she typed again.

  The message was immediately marked “read,” but Bill didn’t reply. What did that mean? Riley guessed that he was probably in some situation where texting wasn’t convenient. As likely as not, it was a meeting right here in the police station.

  She got out of the car and strode into the station, then headed straight for the conference room. She knocked. A voice said, “Come in.”

  She opened the door, and sure enough, a meeting was going on. Bill was seated at the table, as were Lucy Vargas, Emily Creighton, and Craig Huang. So were Carl Walder and the local police chief, Earl Franklin. At the head of the table sat Leonard Ralston himself.