by Blake Pierce
meet up later, have drinks and dinner. What do you think?”
He reached an arm across Riley’s back and plopped his hand on her
shoulder.
At the touch of his flesh against hers, Riley reacted purely on reflex.
She grabbed his hand, twisted his arm around, and sent him flying into the
pool.
Rodney splashed around frantically for a moment until he seemed to
realize he was in the shallow end. Then he stood up and gawked at Riley.
Riley heard applause and laughter from the women still sitting by the pool.
Holly called out, “Hey, you got some moves in you, girl!”
Bella said, “Where’d you learn how to do that?”
Riley sighed. As flustered as she was, she still had the presence of mind
not to tell the truth—that she’d learned it at the FBI Academy.
Instead she smiled stiffly, waved, and said, “I’ll see you ladies later.”
As she walked through the grounds toward the RV, she berated herself for
what she’d just done.
Surely she could have gotten free of Rodney without making such a scene
out of it.
Throwing him into the pool had attracted a lot of attention.
I’ll blow my cover if I don’t watch out, she thought.
She wondered if maybe she’d blown her cover already. Everyone there
was surely talking about her by now, perhaps wondering who she really was.
How hard would it be to guess that she was some sort of cop investigating
Brett Parma’s murder?
She was tired from a long day, which didn’t help her mood. She guessed that she’d feel better after a shower and getting into some dry clothes.
And after that …
She had something to take care of, something she’d been putting off all
day long.
It wasn’t a pleasant task, and she wasn’t looking forward to it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The man sitting at a table close to the bar was doing his best to eavesdrop
on a conversation between the bartender and one of his female customers.
It wasn’t difficult. Her cheerful voice penetrated most of the chatter
around her. He’d only listened for a few minutes when he felt a surge of
satisfaction.
She’ll do, he thought.
He took another sip from his drink.
In fact, she’ll be perfect.
If all went well, she’d definitely be his next.
He’d left his luxurious motor home at a nearby RV park and had walked
back along the highway toward this bar, hoping to scout for victims here. Just
as he’d approached the place, he’d seen the woman pulling into the parking
lot in a nice but very small Class B RV. When she’d gotten out of her parked
vehicle, he’d discreetly followed her inside.
So far, he felt confident that she hadn’t noticed him at all.
It was important that things stay that way. If she so much as really looked
at him, let alone exchanged words with him, he wouldn’t be able to kill her.
Fortunately, the bar was pretty crowded, and he’d gone to some trouble to
look as innocuous as possible.
He wasn’t sporting his Rolex watch, and he wasn’t wearing designer
clothes. Even his sneakers were an ordinary brand. Of course, he planned to
look more like his normal wealthy self when he went in for the kill, when he
wanted her to notice him and trust him.
Although she was seated on a bar stool facing away from the man, he
could see her face in the mirror that was behind all the bottles and glasses.
She was obviously no athlete. Her body was slender but not wiry or
muscular. Her nails were nicely shaped and polished.
Roughing it is not her style, he observed with approval.
But what pleased him most was her smooth, peaches-and-cream
complexion, which revealed that she hadn’t spent a lot of time outdoors.
Looking at that face in the mirror now, he felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought of her pink features turning ashen from loss of blood …
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
Right now, he had to determine exactly how, when, and where he could approach her. He’d been listening closely to her conversation with the
bartender, hoping to catch a clue.
So far, he’d found her chatter to be quite amusing.
A typical Sedona tourist, he thought.
It seemed that she’d come here after a nasty divorce looking for peace and
enlightenment and perhaps a UFO sighting or two. In an effort to remake
herself, she’d changed her first name from “Shelby” to “Bliss.” From what
Bliss was telling the bartender, she hadn’t seen any UFOs yet, but her
spiritual quest was coming along quite nicely.
During the last few days, Bliss had been visiting Sedona’s “vortexes,”
power centers where the very atmosphere supposedly vibrated with spiritual
energy. So far she’d hiked to all four of the vortexes on the New Age maps—
Cathedral Rock, Bell Rock, Boynton Canyon, and Airport Mesa.
But there seemed to be one last place she wanted to visit.
She said to the bartender, “You’ve got to stop holding out on me, Bruce.
You said if I went to all those places first, you’d tell me about a vortex most people don’t even know about. Don’t you think I’m ready by now?”
Bruce the bartender was a dark-skinned man who had convinced the
woman that he was a Yavapai Indian. The eavesdropping man suspected that
he was actually of Mediterranean descent.
Greek, maybe.
The man thought Bruce seemed to enjoy playing the role of spiritual guru.
A thoroughgoing charlatan, he was sure.
But of course, charlatanry was just part of doing business here in Sedona.
Drying a glass, Bruce said, “I think you’ve evolved beautifully, Bliss.
Yeah, I think you’re ready. But believe me, I don’t share this information
with just anybody. I hope you’ll keep it to yourself.”
Bliss said in a breathless voice, “I will, Bruce. I promise.”
Bruce leaned toward her across the bar and said, “A short distance out on
Transept Trail, there’s a place where the path cuts over a small ridge, forming a sort of cross shape if you could see it from above. Find that spot and
meditate there.”
“What kind of vortex is it?” Bliss asked.
“An electrical vortex, bursting with yang energy. It’s too powerful for
some people. But I think you can handle it.”
“When’s the best time to go?” Bliss asked.
“Well, that gets kind of tricky,” Bruce said. “You see, it’s one of the easier
hiking trails, and there’s no charge for using it, so it can get pretty crowded during the day. Whole families with kids walk right over that spot without
bothering to notice its power. It’s tough to get into a meditative state there
with all those people stopping to stare at you, wondering what you’re doing.”
Bruce scratched his chin and added, “The best times to go are before and
after all the regular tourist traffic—after sunset or right around dawn. It’s a beautiful spot on a clear, moonlit night. It’s also pretty safe, if you watch
your step. Like I said, it’s an easy trail, not too challenging and not too far from the road.”
Bliss gasped with delight.
“There’s a full moon tonight! I’ll go!”
The eavesdropping man listened eagerly as the bartender gave her
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directions on how to get there. The trail was easily accessible and it sounded
like he could park his RV right where the trail began.
Perfect!
He’d meet her right in the very spot she was looking for, playing the part
of a fellow seeker. She’d be astonished to find anyone else there, surprised
that he even knew about this vortex. The encounter would seem like destiny
to her, as if she’d found her true soul mate.
And once I’ve gained her trust …
The man felt a flush of pleasure at the thought of what he would do then.
He remembered the sheer intoxication of killing his first victim. But after that murder he’d succumbed to worry and fear. Were the police ever going to
come after him? It had taken him a full year to get up the courage to kill
again.
Now, after his second murder a couple of days ago, he felt much more
confident. Only the local cops appeared to be looking into the death of Brett
Parma. Nobody had seemed to connect it with the murder in Colorado.
Of course, after this new killing, he knew the whole world would realize
that a serial killer was on the prowl.
But that prospect didn’t worry or frighten him—not now, not anymore.
In fact, he felt excited at the thought of lesser minds trying to track him
down.
He knew he could outwit them every step of the way.
He felt much the same exhilaration as Bliss seemed to feel right now—a readiness and resolve to take on an audacious new challenge.
It actually seemed as if this new victim was being offered him as some
sort of gift.
He thought with a smile …
Maybe it really is destiny.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Riley stared at her cell phone with dread. She had showered in the RV’s
tiny bathroom and changed into dry clothes. Now she was sitting at a picnic
table in the gardens outside the camper, checking her voicemails.
There were several listed, all of them from Ryan, and all of them
unopened.
Did she dare listen to them?
Were they angry, resentful, pleading, desperate …
Or all of those things?
She decided there was no point in listening to them right now. After all,
she’d have to deal directly with whatever her fiancé was feeling. She needed
to talk to him before Agent Crivaro got back from the clubhouse.
That meant right now, while she still had some time to herself.
Go ahead, get it over with, she told herself.
Her fingers shook as she punched in Ryan’s number.
His voice sounded frantic when he answered. “Riley! Where the hell are
you? Are you back in Virginia?”
Riley stifled a sigh and said, “No, I’m still in Arizona.”
“You told me you’d call when you found out when you’d be coming back.
When is that going to be?”
“I don’t know, Ryan.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Riley took a long, slow breath to calm her nerves.
Then she said, “Agent Crivaro and I are working on a murder case. It’s
serious, Ryan. If we don’t find the killer, he’s going to strike again.”
She heard Ryan gasp.
“You mean you’re hunting another killer?”
Riley was startled by the question. She wondered …
Why should he be surprised?
She said, “It’s my new job, Ryan. You know that.”
She was about to go into more detail, at least so he’d understand what she
was doing and why it was so urgent.
She quickly decided it was better not to. For one thing, she wasn’t sure she
could trust him to keep those details to himself. She was starting to
understand just how fast and far a rumor could fly. It was bad enough that a joker like Rodney already had some idea of the condition of Brett Parma’s
corpse. If Ryan so much as hinted about the case around his law office, it
might actually cause further trouble.
Sounding like he was trying to calm himself down, Ryan said, “I know
this is your job, Riley. I’ve tried to accept that. I guess I thought maybe I had accepted it. But right now …”
Ryan hesitated, then said …
“Riley, I’m scared for you. How many times have you almost gotten
killed, just during the time we’ve known each other? Is that going to happen
again? Is your life going to be in danger again? Is that what life … our life …
is going to be like from now on?”
Riley was taken aback now. Somehow, she hadn’t been prepared for the
possibility that Ryan might be genuinely worried about her. This morning
he’d been mad about not having his car for a while. She’d been braced for
more of the same.
How on earth could she answer his question honestly?
She said slowly and carefully, “I’m working with Agent Crivaro. He’s my
full-time partner now. He’s the best agent there is. He really knows what he’s
doing. He’ll keep me safe.”
“Safe?” Ryan almost yelled. “Riley, how safe has Crivaro kept you in the
cases you’ve worked on with him so far? I don’t trust that man, Riley. I’ve
told you before, I think he exploits your abilities. He doesn’t care about you
or your safety. And you sure as hell didn’t tell me he was going to be your
full-time partner.”
Riley fought down the urge to say …
“I didn’t know it myself until this morning.”
It certainly wouldn’t make Ryan feel any better.
Instead she said, “Ryan, I’m really sorry you feel this way. But I’m here,
and I’ve got to stay here until we solve this case. I couldn’t come back home
right now even if I wanted to.”
She heard Ryan gasp again. “So you’re telling me you don’t want to come back home?”
Riley cringed at having let those words slip out.
“That’s not what I meant, Ryan,” she said. “I’ve got a job to do, that’s all.”
A silence fell between them. Riley felt her throat catch with emotion when
she finally said …
“I guess we’ve got a lot to talk about when I get home.”
“I guess,” Ryan said in a broken voice.
“But we can’t deal with it right now,” Riley added.
“I know. Just try to be home in time for Christmas, OK?”
Another silence fell, and then Ryan said …
“Stay safe. I love you.”
He ended the call before Riley could say she loved him too.
She sat there staring at her cell phone. As much as she’d dreaded this call,
it had been worse than she’d expected. She’d been bracing herself for more
shallow selfishness from him. It would have made her mad, just like he was,
but that would be better than what she was feeling now.
She remembered what he’d just said.
“Riley, I’m scared for you.”
She knew he’d really meant it. He was thinking of her now, not himself.
And that really came as a shock to her.
She also remembered that awful slip of her tongue …
“I couldn’t come back home right now even if I wanted to.”
She knew Ryan had every right to be upset by that.
And now she couldn’t help wondering—had she meant it in some way that
she wasn’t willing to admit to herself? Did part of her prefer to be out here
chasing kille
rs to spending time with the man she loved?
She hoped not. That would be truly terrible.
She looked around and noticed that dusk was starting to fall. Crivaro
would surely be back from the clubhouse soon. She reminded herself of the
role she was supposed to be playing and asked herself—what would a dutiful
daughter be doing while waiting for her dad?
They hadn’t had a lot to eat today, but they’d stocked up on groceries on
their way to the campground. Riley went into the RV and started making
sandwiches. She was just finishing up when she glanced out the window and
glimpsed Crivaro approaching the RV.
She went to the door and called out to him in a cheery voice …
“Sit down, Dad. Make yourself comfortable. I’m bringing out something
to eat.”
Crivaro didn’t reply, but he sat down at the picnic table.
Riley came out carrying a tray with sandwiches and a beer for each of
them. As she sat on the other bench, she could see right away that he wasn’t in a good mood.
She asked him in a quieter voice, “How did things go at the clubhouse?”
Crivaro shook his head and said, “I turned up nothing. The guys there
were all shook up about Brett Parma, but none of them had gotten to know
her personally. How did things go for you at the pool?”
“Pretty much the same,” Riley said. “The rumor mill’s grinding away,
though. I heard some talk about a ‘Hook Man’—”
Crivaro interrupted with a scoff.
“Oh, God, not the damned Hook Man. I can’t tell you how many times
people have tried to tell me about him when I’ve been on cases. It happens all
over the country. He’s like the bogeyman, people have been talking about
him for years, since before I even became an agent. He doesn’t exist, of
course.”
“I figured that,” Riley said. “But the guy who told me also seemed to have
a pretty good idea of the condition of Brett Parma’s body when it was found.”
Crivaro took a sip of beer and said, “Yeah, I talked to a couple of guys
who’d heard that she’d been mutilated. Somebody at the ME’s office
obviously couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I’ll call Paco tomorrow, tell him he’s
got to find out whoever it was and fire his ass. We really don’t need this kind of crap right now.”
Crivaro bit into his sandwich.