Once Cold

by Blake Pierce

  Bill turned to look at Lemuel as Riley continued on her way to the car. Lemuel stood glaring at him with an expression of self-righteous haughtiness.

  “In a more civilized time, sir, you and I …”

  Lemuel let the words trail off.

  Bill stared back at him, trying to understand what he meant.

  In a more civilized time—we’d what? Bill asked himself.

  When it dawned on him, Bill almost laughed.

  This faux-gentleman was talking about a duel.

  Bill smiled and pointed at Riley.

  “She’s a better shot than I am,” he said.

  Without another word, Bill turned away and followed Riley to the car. They both got in and Bill started the engine.

  Before Bill could start driving, Riley said through clenched teeth, “Let’s nail that prick.”

  Bill looked at her. She was staring straight ahead, her face red with anger.

  “What are you talking about?” Bill said. “We can’t do anything. The woman doesn’t even want help. Riley, I understand how you feel, but you can’t save everybody.”

  Riley stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying.

  Bill said, “Don’t tell me you still think he’s our killer.”

  “Don’t you?” Riley said.

  Bill could see that Riley was letting her rage get the better of her judgment. This happened from time to time. And the truth was, Bill admired her capacity for moral outrage. She had the keenest sense of right and wrong of anybody he’d ever known. But at times like this, it was up to him to make her see reason.

  “Riley, think about this. Do you seriously think Lemuel bought both bouquets—one bouquet at Corley’s Flowers for his wife, and the other for the grave at some other store? It doesn’t make sense. Let’s face it, he’s not our man. We’re back at square one.”

  Riley’s face softened, looking more sad than angry.

  Bill said, “You can’t help Thea, Riley. She wouldn’t even take your card.”

  In a quiet voice, Riley said, “I know.”

  Bill looked at her sympathetically for a moment.

  “So what do we do next?” he asked.

  “Drive back to Greybull,” Riley said. “There’s a cop there who worked the case years ago. We need to talk to him.”

  Just as Bill started to drive, Riley’s phone rang. She answered it.

  He heard her saying in an alarmed voice, “What? … What? … OK … I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  She ended the call.

  “You’ve got to drive me back to Fredericksburg,” she said. “Jilly’s in trouble.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Riley brooded silently during most of the drive back to Fredericksburg. The guidance counselor hadn’t told her much over the phone. The only thing Riley knew right now was that Jilly had hit another kid in school. Riley was expected at the counselor’s office to help sort things out.

  As they neared the school, Bill broke the silence.

  “Stop beating yourself up about this, Riley.”

  Riley continued to stare out the window.

  “What makes you think that’s what I’m doing?” she said.

  “Come on, Riley. This is Bill you’re talking to.”

  Riley hesitated, then said, “I’m afraid I’m really screwing things up.”

  Bill let out a grunt of disapproval.

  “So what? Who isn’t screwing up? Do you think I’m such a perfect parent? Hell, I only see my boys on weekends. What kind of dad does that make me?”

  But Bill’s situation was different from hers, and Riley knew it.

  “I know I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “That’s not the point. The point is my best isn’t good enough. I’m way out of my depth. The girl is troubled, Bill. She’s had an awful life. The social workers back in Phoenix had a hard time handling her. So did would-be foster parents. Why did I ever think I could do a better job?”

  “You can do it, Riley. You probably saved the girl’s life. Give yourself some credit.”

  Bill parked in the school visitors’ lot.

  “Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked.

  Riley shook her head.

  “No. I’m sorry to drag you all the way here. If you want to go on back to work, I can get a cab home.”

  “We can get back to work tomorrow. I’ll wait for you right here, then drive you to Quantico so you can get your car.”

  Riley sighed.

  “OK,” she said. “But if you see any troublemaking kids, don’t arrest them. One of them might be mine.”

  Riley walked into the school building. She checked in with the school receptionist and made her way to the guidance counselors’ offices. In the small room next to the offices, she found Jilly sitting quietly in a chair reading a school textbook.

  On the other side of the room sat a large, tough-looking boy with a bandage on his nose. A woman was sitting right next to him. From the way the woman glared at her, Riley guessed that she was the boy’s mother.

  Riley sat down beside Jilly, who closed her book and looked at her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “You should be,” Riley whispered back. “You’ve got no business hitting people.”

  “Oh, I’m not sorry about that,” Jilly said. “I’m just sorry you had to come. They told me to sit here until you showed up.”

  Jilly’s guidance counselor, Joyce Uderman, stepped out of the office. Riley had met her several times. Riley always got the feeling that she didn’t like Jilly very much. The woman’s smile also sometimes struck Riley as rather insincere.

  Right now was one of those moments.

  “Ms. Paige, Jilly, please come in,” she said.

  Riley and Jilly went into the office and sat down. Ms. Uderman sat behind her desk.

  Still smiling rather emptily, the counselor said, “Thank you for coming, Ms. Paige.”

  “Please tell me what happened,” Riley said.

  “I will in a moment. I just called Assistant Principal Morlan. He’ll join us.”

  An awkward, silent moment passed. Ms. Uderman managed to keep smiling the whole time. Jilly’s arms were crossed, and Riley could see that she was angry. Riley mentally compared this rather skinny girl to the considerably bigger boy outside.

  What happened exactly? Riley wondered.

  Mark Morlan, the assistant principal, came into the office. Riley had also met him once or twice. He was about Riley’s age, a large and imposing man. He, too, thanked Riley for coming. But his expression was dour and serious.

  Still smiling, Ms. Uderman said, “Ms. Paige, Jilly hit her classmate Mark Hinkle. She bloodied his nose and he had to go to the nurse’s office. His mother is very upset. She wants your daughter suspended from school. I thought it would be best if we talked with the students separately and with their parents before taking any action.”

  Mr. Morlan didn’t sit down.

  He said, “Jilly, could you please explain your behavior?”

  Jilly spoke in a loud, angry voice.

  “It was Mark’s fault. He had it coming.”

  “Now Jilly,” Ms. Uderman said, “violence is never acceptable.”

  “He’s a bully,” Jilly said. “He picks on girls. He says gross things to them. He grabs them in nasty ways.”

  Ms. Uderman folded her hands on the desk.

  “Does he do that to you, Jilly?” she asked.

  “Not so much. I’m not scared of him. The other girls are. Today he made fun of Hayley Crow for her weight. He made her cry. But even then he wouldn’t leave her alone. He got a bunch of boys together and they all kept making fun of her. She cried and cried, and they pushed and shoved her, and Mark kept goading them on. And that was when I …”

  Jilly paused, then added, “He deserved it.”

  Riley was playing the scene out in her mind—a tough, mean boy teasing a fat little girl and getting all his pals in on the action. It must have taken Jilly some co
urage to defy them all and punch Mark Hinkle. But after all that Jilly had dealt with in life, Riley knew that a school bully wasn’t likely to intimidate her.

  Of course, Riley also knew that the other two adults in the room probably didn’t see it that way.

  Tread carefully, she told herself.

  “I’m not defending Jilly’s actions,” Riley said. “But it sounds to me as though Mark has some explaining to do. His behavior might well be described as harassment.”

  Ms. Uderman’s smile faded.

  “I think you should let Mr. Morlan and I be the judges of that, Ms. Paige,” she said.

  Then Ms. Uderman turned to Jilly.

  “I’m going to bring Mark in here. And you’re going to apologize.”

  “What?” Jilly snapped.

  “You’re going to tell him you’re sorry and you won’t do it again.”

  “I will not!”

  Riley felt thoroughly nonplussed. She knew what Jilly did was wrong and that she had to apologize. But she also knew exactly how Jilly felt.

  She said, “Ms. Uderman, I think the situation’s pretty complicated.”

  But the counselor kept staring at Jilly.

  “You won’t apologize?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Ms. Uderman leaned back in her chair.

  “Well then, it seems to me that you give us no choice. This will go on your permanent record. Mr. Morlan, what further action do you recommend?”

  Riley dreaded whatever was going to come next. Suspension would be a terrible setback for Jilly.

  But Mr. Morlan didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked straight at Riley. She could see that his mood had changed. He was almost smiling.

  He gets it, Riley thought. He understands why Jilly did what she did.

  Finally, he said, “Jilly, I promise that we’ll get to the bottom of whatever Mark did. But you really need to tell him you’re sorry. Will you do that?”

  Jilly stubbornly shook her head.

  “Wait outside the office for a moment, Jilly,” Ms. Uderman said. “We need to talk to your mother in private.”

  Jilly got up from her chair and walked out. Mr. Morlan shut the door.

  Ms. Uderman said, “Ms. Paige, your daughter really gives us no choice. I think suspension is in order. If it happens again, it could lead to expulsion.”

  “Not so fast, Ms. Uderman,” Mr. Morlan said. “I think we should give the girl’s mother a chance to deal with this.”

  Looking at Riley, he said, “We’ve had trouble with Mark Hinkle before. We’ll check out your daughter’s side of the story. And if it’s true …”

  He didn’t finish the sentence. Riley sensed by his tone that Mark was surely going to be in a lot more trouble than Jilly.

  Then he added, “Jilly does need to write a note of apology and bring it here tomorrow. I leave it up to you to encourage her to do that.”

  Ms. Uderman was staring at him with her mouth hanging open.

  Riley could see that she didn’t like this approach at all.

  “Does this sound fair?”

  “Yes,” Riley said.

  “Good,” Mr. Morlan said. “That will be all for now.”

  Riley left the office and found Jilly standing right outside the door. The boy and his mother were still seated. Mr. Morlan called for them and they went into the office. Riley and Jilly walked on down the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” Jilly asked.

  “Home,” Riley said.

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “It depends.”

  And a lot depends on me, Riley thought.

  Could she get Jilly to write that letter?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As Riley and Jilly walked out of the school and toward the parked car, Jilly stopped dead in her tracks. Riley looked down and saw a puzzled look on the girl’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” Riley asked.

  “Is that the car you’re using today?” Jilly replied.

  “Sure,” Riley said. “It’s an FBI car.”

  “Who’s that guy in it?” Jilly demanded. “I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

  “My partner, Bill. You met him once in Phoenix.”

  “OK then,” Jilly mumbled and started walking again.

  Riley climbed into the front seat and Jilly got in the back. Riley quickly reintroduced Jilly to Bill. The girl still had a look of annoyance on her face as she fastened her seat belt.

  When Bill headed the car toward the highway to Quantico, Jilly snapped, “I thought you said we were going home.”

  “We are. My car’s at Quantico. Bill’s taking us there to get it.”

  Jilly fell silent then and nobody else said anything during the drive. Riley knew that Bill was too considerate to ask how things had gone at the school. She also knew that now was not the time to sort things out with her new daughter.

  The silence was anything but comfortable, and the ride seemed longer than the half hour it really was. They arrived at Quantico, where a security guard waved them through the gate. Riley glanced back and saw Jilly watching the guard with interest. Then the girl’s eyes widened at the sight of the huge building they drove by as Bill took them straight to Riley’s car in the parking lot.

  “Thanks, Bill,” Riley said as she and Jilly got out. “We’ll get back on track tomorrow.”

  Bill drove away and Riley unlocked the door of her car.

  “Wait a minute!” Jilly cried out. “Don’t I get to see where you work? I mean, it’s got to be cool! You’ve told me there’s a shooting range. And a virtual reality room. I want to see everything!”

  “Not this time,” Riley said. “You and I have got to talk.”

  They got into the car and Riley started to drive home.

  “What kind of trouble am I in?” Jilly asked.

  “It depends. Suspension, maybe. Unless—”

  “Unless what?”

  “You’ve got to write a note to Mark. You’ve got to say you’re sorry.”

  Jilly let out a yelp of protest.

  “Huh-uh! It wasn’t my fault!”

  Riley stifled a groan of frustration.

  This isn’t going to be easy, she thought.

  “Jilly, you chose to hit Mark.”

  “Yeah, well, isn’t it what you would do? You beat up bad guys all the time. You even kill them when you have to.”

  Riley winced at the word “kill.” The last thing she wanted was for Jilly to think that her job was glamorous—especially the parts that involved violence.

  “Jilly, I’m trained and licensed for my job. And I don’t use violence unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Jilly crossed her arms and glared forward.

  “I thought it was necessary,” she said.

  “Well, it wasn’t.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, maybe you should tell me. He’s a bully, you say. He does gross things to girls. He made your friend cry. He got all his friends to make her feel worse. I know how terrible that is. But what else could you have done besides hitting him?”

  Jilly sulked silently for a moment.

  Then she said, “I could have gone to my counselor and reported him. But it wouldn’t have done any good.”

  “Yes, it would have, Jilly. Your school has a zero tolerance policy toward bullying. And if nobody had done anything, you could have told me, and I’d have complained. I’d have made sure something got done about it.”

  They drove on in silence for a little while.

  Finally Jilly muttered, “Just once I wanted to be in charge.”

  Riley was puzzled.

  “In charge of what?” she asked.

  “Everything. School, family, home, life. Ryan left us, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I’m tired of things always happening to me. Just once I wanted to be the one who made things happen.”

  Riley stopped to think about what Jilly meant. Little by little, she was starting to understand. All her life, Jilly h
ad been on her own, fending for herself, trying to solve problems that were beyond her control. Nobody had been there for her, least of all the adults in her life.

  For a while, Riley had thought that Jilly was feeling that things in her life were changing for the better.

  But Ryan leaving had been a huge setback.

  Ryan had proven to be just like all the other grown-ups Jilly had ever known.

  Riley felt a surge of guilt.

  How could I have ever trusted that bastard again?

  But she put such thoughts out of her mind. Right now she had to focus on Jilly.

  “Jilly, maybe we all need to make some changes. Me especially. I’m not home enough. I don’t see enough of you or April. I’ve been thinking for a long time … maybe it’s time for me to quit at the BAU. There are lots of other kinds of work I could do—work that would let me spend more time with you and April.”

  Now Jilly sounded alarmed.

  “You can’t quit! You’ve got to keep catching bad guys! If you don’t do it, who will?”

  Riley was surprised by the passion in Jilly’s voice.

  It was obvious that nothing would disappoint Jilly more than Riley quitting the BAU.

  Well, I guess that’s settled, Riley thought.

  “Jilly, you’re not alone,” she said. “I’m here. I’m not running away. I promise. April’s here too, and Gabriela. You’ve got to learn to lean on us. You don’t have to be in charge all the time.”

  Jilly didn’t reply, but Riley sensed that she was listening.

  Riley said, “You’re doing so well in school. Don’t blow it for yourself. You do want to pass eighth grade, don’t you? And go on to high school?”

  “Yeah,” Jilly said. “A whole lot.”

  “Then don’t you think you should write that letter?”

  Jilly was quiet for a moment.

  “I should,” she said. “But how can I apologize? I don’t feel sorry, I don’t feel bad. I wouldn’t really mean it.”

  She has a point, Riley thought.

  Riley certainly didn’t want to encourage Jilly to be hypocritical.

  Finally Riley said, “Even if you don’t feel bad about hurting Mark, you know it was the wrong thing to do, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, you can say just that. That you’re sorry you did it because it was the wrong thing to do.”