Blake Pierce - The Making of Riley Paige - 4 - Taking

by Blake Pierce

  She heard Chief Webster ask …

  “What’s the matter? You look like you saw a ghost.”

  For a second Riley thought …

  I didn’t see one. But maybe I heard one.

  Then she realized that Crivaro and Webster were both staring at her.

  “What was that sound?” she asked them.

  “What sound do you mean?” Webster asked.

  Then it came again—a strange rattling noise, like a car engine trying

  unsuccessfully to start, only higher pitched. It wasn’t as loud as it had seemed to Riley when it interrupted her experience of the killer’s mind, but she still found it jarring.

  Webster chuckled as he, too, noticed it.

  He said, “Why, girl, you just let yourself get scared out of your wits by a

  bird. What kind of fearless BAU agent are you, anyway?”

  “A bird?” Riley gasped.

  Smiling slightly, Crivaro shrugged and then nodded in the direction of a

  big saguaro cactus.

  Riley looked and saw a small brown bird perched there. With its black and

  white spots and darting white eyebrows, the thing was actually kind of cute.

  “Sure, there’s the culprit,” Webster said. “Arizona’s state bird, the cactus

  wren. Noisy little critter, isn’t he?”

  The bird raised its head and let out another cry. Riley could hardly believe

  such a small creature could make such an unsettling noise. She was still too

  shaken by her interrupted connection with the killer to be embarrassed by her

  own reaction.

  Putting his hands in his pockets and looking up at the wren, Webster said

  …

  “This one sounds pretty pissed off with us. That’s understandable. Cactus

  wrens are pretty territorial, especially later on, during nesting season. He

  probably thinks we’re here to take his cactus away from him.”

  Riley said, “You mean things live in the cactus?”

  “Sure, lots of things,” Webster said. “It’s just like a tree back where you

  come from. Lots of critters call a cactus home.”

  Just then, Riley caught a glimpse of something skittering across the

  scrubby landscape and disappearing among some rocks.

  A lizard, probably.

  Then she glanced at the bushes that had flanked the dead body and noticed

  bugs crawling and flying among the leaves. And once again came the

  abrasive cry of the cactus wren. Until just now, Riley had thought of the

  desert as a lifeless place—as dead as the body that had been left on the trail.

  And of course, the chief had mentioned the scavengers that had partially

  devoured the body—buzzards, coyotes, and God only knew what else.

  A new, uncanny feeling came over Riley—a sense that this desert was as

  populous and dense with life as any city. Various kinds of insects and reptiles and birds and even small mammals must be watching them right now, most

  of them staying silent, waiting for the intruders to leave.

  A word came into Riley’s mind …

  Witnesses.

  When the woman’s body was dumped here, such creatures had surely been

  lurking all around.

  They had witnessed what the killer had done, but they were never going to

  tell anybody what they’d seen.

  Now it seemed to Riley that the whole desert was mocking these human

  visitors for even thinking about solving the crime.

  She felt a burst of irrational anger at the irony of it all.

  A young woman was dead, and the witnesses who’d seen the killer didn’t

  care. If they had the ability to think about it at all, they would consider it just part of a normal process.

  Life and death.

  But this death had come far too soon, too violently, too unfairly.

  She couldn’t let it go unnoticed.

  She couldn’t let it happen again.

  Riley calmed herself and tried to recollect that feeling of connection she’d

  just had with the killer. She clearly remembered sensing his eerie

  contentment at resuming his awful work.

  Crivaro and Webster were talking together again. Riley almost interrupted

  them to say what she was thinking. But she quickly realized it would better to tell Crivaro privately. She knew from experience that ordinary cops like

  Chief Webster would only be baffled to hear about her experience.

  She touched Crivaro on the shoulder. “Could I have a word with you for a

  moment?”

  Crivaro looked surprised, but he nodded. He followed Riley along the

  path, just far enough for Chief Webster not to hear them whispering.

  She took a deep breath and said quietly …

  “Agent Crivaro, Harry was right. Whoever killed Brett Parma also killed

  the woman in Colorado.”

  Crivaro squinted hard at her.

  “Did you get some feeling about that just now?” he asked.

  Riley nodded and said, “He’s happy with himself now that he’s claimed a

  second victim. He’d forgotten how good it felt. Now he’s eager to kill again.

  If we don’t stop him, it won’t be long before he does.”

  Crivaro stared at the place where the body had been found for a moment.

  Then he shook his head. “Look, Riley. I’ve got the same kind of odd ability

  you’ve got—that knack for getting a glimpse into a killer’s mind. That’s why

  I picked you out for this kind of work in the first place. But here, I’m getting nothing. I don’t get that feeling at all.”

  “But Agent Crivaro—”

  He interrupted her. “Let me remind you about this little extra ability of

  ours, Riley. It comes with a lot of responsibility. You’ve got to learn how to

  distinguish insight from imagination. This isn’t magic, and it isn’t mind-

  reading or anything psychic. You get intuitive hits, but they only really

  matter if they fit the evidence at hand. They can be way off if the imagination part gets out of hand.”

  He pointed to the ground and added, “Do you see anything here to back up

  this hunch of yours—anything concrete or solid?”

  Riley looked hard at the place on the ground where the body had been

  found. To her frustration, she couldn’t see anything that supported what she’d

  just felt. So far, nothing in this case seemed to support any connection

  between the two murders.

  Crivaro said, “I think the desert air is getting to you. This is a strange

  place, and neither one of us is used to it. Now as for me, I think it’s highly

  unlikely that the two killings are related. And that means we’ve got no

  business here. I think we should call it a day, go back to Phoenix, and catch the next plane back to DC.”

  Riley felt a rush of desperation. Her sense of the killer had been strong.

  I’ve just got to persuade him, she thought.

  She said, “Agent Crivaro, please, let’s not give up just yet. Isn’t there

  anything else we can do? Even if it’s only to prove I’m wrong?”

  Crivaro tilted his head and said, “Well, I guess we could pay the medical

  examiner a visit, see what he thinks, even get a look at the body. I’ve got to

  warn you, it’s not going to be a pretty sight.”

  “I’ve seen dead bodies before,” Riley said.

  Crivaro smirked a little, as if he knew something she didn’t know.

  He said, “If we do, and it doesn’t change my mind, do you promise to stop

  nagging me?”

  Riley gulped hard. Did she really want to make
that promise?

  He’s not giving me much of a choice, she realized.

  “I promise,” she said.

  She and Crivaro walked together back to where Chief Webster was still

  standing. He was watching them with a slight frown on his face.

  Crivaro asked him, “Where’s the medical examiner’s office?”

  Webster pointed and said, “About ten miles north of here, in Stover.

  Why?”

  “Could you give us a ride up there?” Crivaro said.

  Webster grunted with irritation. Riley could tell he still wasn’t pleased at

  having two BAU agents around who didn’t know how to mind their own

  business, and who definitely didn’t know when to leave.

  “I’ve kind of got my hands full here,” Webster replied. “But I guess Wally

  could give you a ride. And I’ll call the ME to let him know you’re on your

  way. Don’t get me wrong, but I hope this is the last I see of you.”

  Crivaro chuckled and said, “Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual. I expect

  we’ll be on a flight to DC pretty soon.”

  “That would be good,” Webster agreed.

  Crivaro and Riley followed the chief back along the trail and waited while

  he spoke with the cop named Wally. Soon Wally was dispatched to drive

  them to the ME’s office in Stover, so Riley and Crivaro climbed into the

  police car.

  As Wally started driving, Riley looked back toward the crime scene.

  The dead woman’s van was still parked on the side of the road. It would be removed now, and the police would leave the area. There would be no

  sign that anything so ugly had happened here, and the only witnesses would

  still not be talking.

  She shivered a little as she relived the feeling she’d gotten out on the trail

  —that this was the killer’s second murder, and that he was eager to kill again.

  What if their visit to the ME’s office failed to convince Crivaro that her

  instincts were right?

  Who would even try to stop this killer from fulfilling his vile desires?

  I’ve got to convince Crivaro, she thought.

  We can’t leave now.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Jake Crivaro was aware of an uncomfortable silence in the police car. Not

  that he hoped the young cop driving them to Stover would start talking. It

  was just as well that he seemed intent on minding his own business. But Jake

  and Riley had barely exchanged a word since they’d gotten into the car.

  Jake was sitting in the front seat and she was in the back, so he swiveled

  around to see her.

  She flicked a glance at him, then looked away and went back to gazing out

  the side window. A slight frown was on her face.

  Jake found it easy to guess what Riley was worrying about.

  She thinks I just don’t give a damn.

  He knew it must seem to his junior partner as though he didn’t think Brett

  Parma’s death mattered enough for them to investigate. That was hardly the

  case, though. Whenever Jake got wind of a murder, even on the TV news, he

  almost always felt an overwhelming urge to pitch in and solve it.

  That had gotten him into trouble more than once.

  Over the years, he’d learned to resist that urge, at least most of the time.

  Right now, he kept reminding himself he and Riley weren’t here in any

  official capacity at all. Their unsanctioned involvement in a local murder case would be a serious breach of FBI rules.

  He admitted to himself that he hadn’t always been such a stickler for rules.

  There had been times in the past when he’d risked his career on a hunch.

  But he didn’t have any such hunch right now.

  And besides …

  Poking into this case would set a bad example, and that wouldn’t be good

  for Riley..

  The kid tended to be too much a rule-breaker as it was. She’d made Jake

  furious more than once by defying his orders. Worse, she’d made Jake’s own

  boss furious, almost wrecking her career before it had even started—and

  nearly wrecking Jake’s career as well.

  While Riley had still been a student at the FBI Academy in Quantico, Jake

  had yanked her out of her classes to help him on a murder case. He hadn’t

  had a partner at the time, and he’d thought her raw instincts would be useful.

  And her instincts had been very useful indeed.

  If it hadn’t been for Riley, they might never have stopped the killer.

  But along the way, Riley had taken a truly outrageous detour. She’d gotten

  suspicious of a very important man, no less than a US senator. Pretending to

  be a reporter, she’d confronted Senator Gardner during a press conference

  and badgered him with questions about a murder victim.

  Her instincts had been right, as usual—although not in the way she’d

  thought.

  Gardner hadn’t been guilty of murder, but he hadn’t been an innocent man

  either. Riley’s stunt had brought to light personal indiscretions that had ended his political career.

  Jake’s boss had been beyond furious—and not just with Riley. Special

  Agent in Charge Erik Lehl had lambasted Jake for getting her involved to

  begin with.

  Riley had borne the blunt of his fury, though. Lehl personally had her

  expelled her from the Academy.

  Then the young agent-in-training had pulled off some brilliant work with

  Jake on the barbed wire killer case.

  Lehl had relented and put her back in the program, but he still had

  lingering reservations about her. Jake had overcome a lot of official doubts to get her into the BAU after her graduation from the Academy.

  One more reckless stunt might finish her for good, he thought.

  The last thing Jake wanted was for his decision to bring her along on this

  one to jeopardize her future. He would retire some day before too long, and

  the BAU would be in need of her unusual skills. Except for himself back

  when he’d been at his best, he’d never run across another investigator who

  could see into a killer’s mind the way she could.

  When they reached the county medical examiner’s office in Stover, the

  cop named Wally parked in front of the building. As the three of them got out

  of the car, Jake watched Riley closely. He could tell by her determined

  expression that she felt strongly about this case.

  She really believed that Brett Parma wasn’t the killer’s first victim.

  Is she right? he wondered.

  He’d told her the truth when he’d said he hadn’t gotten the same feeling

  from the crime scene. And normally, he would have felt confident about his

  instincts. But it was also true that he’d felt nothing at all when he viewed the place where the woman’s body had been tossed down. He had no insight to

  offer on this one.

  Jake felt tired and burnt out, and wasn’t sure he could trust his own

  judgment.

  He hoped the visit to the ME would settle things one way or the other.

  But if, as he thought, they found no actual evidence connecting the two

  killings, would Riley keep her promise and let the whole thing go?

  They might have a serious argument on their hands.

  She’s a stubborn kid, Jake thought with a smile.

  And that made her a lot like him. That was one reason Jake couldn’t help

  liking her, sometimes in spite of himself.

  When they went inside th
e building, a receptionist greeted them and said

  that the medical examiner was expecting their visit. The woman led them to

  an office with a sign that read “Dr. Francisco Arau, County Medical

  Examiner.”

  Jake and Riley went into the office while Wally waited outside. They

  introduced themselves to ME, a short, dark-skinned man with a thick mane of

  black hair. Unlike Chief Webster, Dr. Arau didn’t seem at all displeased to

  meet them.

  He said, “Everett Webster told me you were coming. He said you had

  some questions about that woman who was killed near Wren’s Nest

  Campground. He said you had some idea that we might have a serial killer on

  our hands.”

  Jake shrugged slightly and said, “It’s just a hypothesis at this point, Dr.

  Arau.”

  “Please, call me Paco,” the ME said with a smile. “Everybody else does.”

  Then he shook his head and added …

  “I’ve got to say, this particular victim really unsettles me. I’ve seen dead

  bodies in all kinds of awful conditions, usually people who got lost or injured out in the desert and wound up half-eaten by scavengers. That’s pretty routine

  in this part of the country. I’ve also seen my share of murder victims. But this one …”

  He sighed and said, “I just can’t make sense of it, I guess. Someone took

  this girl and bled her to death in an unknown location. Then he went to a

  certain amount of trouble to lug her body out onto that trail and left her there for anybody to find. That involved some risk to himself. Even though that

  particular trail isn’t heavily used, he could easily have been seen coming or

  going.”

  Jake replied. “The guy who takes that kind of risk is usually eager to put

  some time and distance between himself and the victim.”

  “But he didn’t bury the body. He didn’t even try to hide it.”

  Jake looked at Riley. “What do you think that means?”

  He could see her mentally turning his question over in her mind.

  “I’m not sure,” Riley said. Finally she added, “He wasn’t announcing his

  deed to the public the way some serial killers do.”

  Jake knew Riley was thinking of a killer who painted his victims up like

  clowns and another who left the dead hanging from fence posts, still wrapped

  in the barbed wire that had killed them.

  “Right,” he said. “This one didn’t display the body in any way. But why