by Blake Pierce
Kuehling’s voice was starting to tremble with emotion.
“I’ll admit, I’m not completely objective about this. My dad was a cop here when the Bonnett family got killed, and he never got over not solving it. It’s been one of the biggest regrets of his life. I wish I could make things right for him.”
One of the older cops nodded his head and said …
“Yeah, I was on the force back then too, and I feel the same way as old Art Kuehling. The Bonnetts were good folks, and they deserved justice then, and they still do. I hate the fact that the case went cold. The thought that their killer is still living right around here … well, it’s been eating me up inside for a long time.”
There was a murmur of interest in the room, especially from the older cops.
Kuehling looked directly at Riley and said …
“Look, maybe the chief’s right and there’s no connection between Ogden’s killing and what happened to the Bonnetts. But shouldn’t we at least check it out? Maybe if nothing else, we could finally solve the Bonnett case. But we won’t be able to do that on our own. We need the FBI’s help.”
Kuehling gulped hard and added …
“And I for one am really glad you’re here.”
One of the cops said loudly …
“Well said, Sam. I’m glad they’re here too.”
Now there was a chorus of agreement among the cops.
Riley was pleased that the tide of opinion seemed to be moving their way. Even so, she saw that not everyone was ready to take their side.
Crane’s face was red and twisted with embarrassment and anger.
“OK, then,” he said. “I’ll give you Feds a chance to see what you can do. I’ll be pretty damned surprised if you find anything. I can’t spare you any personnel to speak of. But you can take Kuehling if you think she’ll be any good to you. And her partner too.”
Then Crane turned and looked at the other cops and said, “What are you guys gawking for? Get back to work.”
The men grumbled a little as they did as they were told, and Crane walked sullenly back into his office and shut the door behind him.
Officer Kuehling stood there with her mouth hanging open with amazement.
Riley said to her, “Well, let’s get going.”
Then Riley looked over at Kuehling’s partner, the young man with a dumbfounded look who was standing at his desk.
Riley said to him, “And you too. We should get a look at the scene of Ogden’s murder.”
“OK,” Kuehling said. “Officer Wolfe and I will drive ahead and show you the way.”
As Kuehling and Wolfe followed Riley and her colleagues through the station, Jenn nudged Riley and said with a chuckle, “That chief is pretty pissed off. I swear to God, Riley, I’ve never met anyone who can make enemies faster than you. Congratulations.”
Riley laughed and said, “Thanks.”
She had to admit to herself, she’d enjoyed putting Chief Crane in his place.
I just hope it doesn’t backfire on me, she thought.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Riley admired the wide sand and calm Gulf waters as Bill drove the FBI car along the beachfront road. But her spirits sank when the police car they were following pulled up to the house they wanted to check out.
“Looks like we got here just in time,” Jenn said from the back seat.
A moving van was parked in front of the weather-beaten house, and a “FOR SALE” sign was fastened to the flight of steps leading up to the high porch. The van was fairly stuffed with furniture, and Riley guessed that the movers must be almost finished with their job.
Officers Kuehling and Wolfe got out of the police car and stood waiting for the three agents to join them.
As Bill parked the car and they all got out, Riley grumbled, “I didn’t figure on finding the crime scene intact. But I didn’t expect to find the whole place damn near empty.”
Bill chuckled a little and said, “Don’t worry. If the killer left any vibes in there, you’ll pick them up anyway.”
Riley fought down a sigh.
After all, getting into killers’ minds was what Riley was known for, but there were no guarantees about that happening. Her talent could be erratic.
When Riley and her two colleagues got out of the car, even the nearby surf didn’t offer any relief against the heat. They followed Kuehling and Wolfe up the front stairs. The three of them squeezed against the banister as a couple of movers lugged a dining room cupboard down toward the moving van.
When they crossed the broad porch and walked inside the house through the open door, they found themselves in a completely barren living room.
Samantha Kuehling pointed to the floor. “That was where we found him lying on his back.”
Riley looked at the hardwood floor. She remembered seeing quite a bit of blood in the crime scene photo, but none was left here now. She could see where the boards had been carefully scrubbed, sanded, and refinished.
Of course she wasn’t surprised. The murder had taken place well over a week ago. The police had long since finished examining the crime scene, and naturally, whoever owned the house had wanted to clean it up.
There was quite a bit of thumping and banging in the adjoining dining room. Riley glanced through the arched doorway and saw a stout woman about her own age giving orders to a pair of movers. The men were preparing to take out an empty glass-enclosed curio cabinet.
The woman turned and saw the new arrivals and asked, “Can I help you? Are you here to look at the house?”
Then noticing Officer Kuehling she added with a note of disappointment, “Oh, it’s you again. More cop stuff, I guess. Well, I’ll try to help however I can.”
The woman came into the living room and Kuehling introduced her as Cathy Lilly, Gareth Ogden’s married daughter who lived in Jacksonville.
Cathy wiped her sweating brow with a handkerchief and said …
“Well, I wish I could offer you a place to sit or maybe something cool to drink on a miserable day like this, but as you can see, everything is pretty much gone.”
Riley noted that the woman was wearing sneakers and cut-off jeans and a T-shirt, and she was also wearing an ornate necklace. It was a silver pendant decorated with small diamonds.
Although that seemed a bit incongruous, Riley decided to ease into her questions with some idle conversation.
“Are you having any luck selling the place?” she asked Cathy Lilly.
“I don’t know yet,” Cathy said. “Amos Crites, who owns the houses on either side of this one, is thinking about buying, but he’s dillydallying around about things.”
Then with a chuckle she added …
“I don’t suppose I could interest any of you FBI folks in a beachfront house right here in beautiful Rushville, Mississippi? No, of course not. The property here’s been damn near worthless since the hurricane, and it wasn’t worth a hell of a lot even before then. As for all the furniture and stuff, I’ve managed to sell some of it, but a whole lot of it’s going to go in storage. I don’t know what I’ll wind up doing with it.”
She shuffled her feet a little and said, “I sure hope you can find who killed Dad. I’ve already answered a lot of police questions, but I don’t mind going through it all again. The truth is, I don’t know a hell of a lot about who might have wanted Daddy dead or why.”
“Oh?” Riley said.
Office Kuehling explained, “Cathy didn’t have a lot of contact with her father during the last few years.”
Cathy nodded, and she sniffed sadly.
She said, “Dad got awfully hard to get along with after Mom died of ovarian cancer some twelve years ago. He just wasn’t himself anymore, and he didn’t like seeing me and my husband and our kids. I think it was just because we’re happy, and seeing us reminded him of when Mom was alive and he was happy too, and that made him sad. So I just respected his wishes and stayed away pretty much.”
Riley again noticed the pendant hanging around Cathy’s ne
ck. Again it struck her as a little odd, considering how casually the woman was dressed.
“That’s a nice piece of jewelry,” Riley said, looking at the pendant.
Cathy fingered it as if she’d forgotten she was wearing it.
“This? Oh, thanks. It belonged to my mom. I just found it lying around here when I showed up. I guess Dad liked to keep it where he could see it to remind him of Mom.”
She lifted it a little for Riley to see and added, “See, he even kept it all polished up.”
A banging sound from upstairs interrupted their conversation.
Cathy shrugged and said, “I guess I’d better check and see how the guys are doing up there. I hope you’ll excuse me. If you need me, just give me a yell.”
She trotted up the stairs, leaving the three agents and the two local cops in the living room. Riley looked around the sparkling clean, barren room, wondering how she was going to get an impression of the crime scene.
She asked Kuehling and Wolfe, “How well can you describe how things looked here when you found the body?”
Wolfe chuckled and said, “Oh, Sam can tell you all about that, believe me.”
Samantha Kuehling immediately started walking slowly around the room, describing where everything had been. She recited the placement of every piece of furniture, the throw rugs on the floor, and even little items and knickknacks. She included a stray package of cigarettes and family photos that had been placed on furniture or that had been hanging from the walls.
She was even able to describe the furniture in detail—all the materials and colors, and that the couch was old and the stuffing was coming out in a few places, and that the armchair had been a recliner.
Then Kuehling added …
“Oh—and that necklace Cathy was wearing—it was lying on the side table under a lamp, right next to the armchair. I guess Cathy was right—he liked keeping it close by.”
Riley was almost dumbstruck by all this detail. But then, she remembered how Kuehling had been able to identify the murder weapon as either a claw or a rip hammer just from looking at the dead man’s wound.
She said to Kuehling, “You’ve got some pretty impressive powers of observation.”
Wolfe laughed and said, “Doesn’t she, though?”
Kuehling shrugged modestly and said, “Thanks. So people tell me. I’m not sure what it’s good for, though.”
Riley smiled and said, “Oh, it’s good for a lot, believe me.”
Riley closed her eyes and took a few long, deep breaths.
She heard Wolfe ask, “Uh—what are you doing?”
“Shh,” Riley heard Jenn Roston say.
“Let her do her thing,” Bill added in a quiet voice.
As Riley kept breathing, her earlier doubts dissipated, and she began to feel the strange touch of another presence …
The killer’s mind.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Keeping her eyes closed, Riley turned slowly around. In her mind, the details that Officer Kuehling had described fell into place. She found that she could visualize the room as it had been that night.
Now she needed to sense what had unfolded here.
It was about eight-thirty in the evening, she reminded herself.
That meant it was getting pretty dark outside.
But what about in here?
It depended on whether Ogden had had the overhead light on, or just the table lamp that Kuehling had said was beside his chair.
Riley thought about the melancholy widower, his reluctance to even spend time with his own family.
He didn’t like bright light in the house, she felt.
So the table lamp had possibly been the only light in the room.
With the room in full focus now, Riley opened her eyes, keeping all the details in her head.
She asked Kuehling and Wolfe, “How did the killer get in here?”
Kuehling shrugged and said, “He just walked in.”
Dominic added, “Ogden generally left his front door wide open at night, especially when it was hot like this. That’s not unusual in this town.”
Riley thought for a moment, then asked …
“Does anybody have any idea what Ogden might have been doing just before he was killed?”
“Maybe so,” Kuehling said. “I went down to the beach and there were some recent footprints in the sand above the tide line. Of course they didn’t show any detail, but it looked like someone had walked right across from here down toward the surf and then back up across the road. There aren’t a lot of people around here these days. My guess is that he walked outside and down on the beach, then came back up to his house where the killer was waiting for him.”
Riley tilted her head with admiration.
That’s pretty good deduction, she thought.
This young woman clearly had the makings of an exceptional cop.
Riley swung open the screen door and walked out onto the porch. She looked across the beach and imagined what Gareth Ogden would have looked like, standing in the dim light at the water’s edge and staring sadly out over the Gulf.
Because of the distance and the darkness and the sound of the surf, the killer could have crept up the stairs and into the house without worrying that Ogden would notice him.
He knew Ogden, she realized. He was familiar with Ogden’s habits.
Riley imagined the weight of a hammer in her hand. She felt a smirk forming on her face as she sensed the killer’s glee …
This is going to be easy.
Continuing to play out the killer’s musings as she stared out over the water, Riley thought …
Ogden’ll be turning back soon.
I need to get inside now.
I need to get myself ready.
She turned and walked back inside the house, ignoring the presence of Jenn, Bill, and the two local cops as they stood and watched her. She looked around the room, which didn’t seem empty at all anymore. She could see everything in vivid detail, especially …
The pendant.
She stood looking down at where the side table had been, picturing the pendant necklace lying there, glittering under the lamp.
Just as the killer might well have done, she reached for it.
She pantomimed picking it up and looking at it, again playing out the killer’s thoughts …
Pretty.
Probably worth something too.
Again Riley felt that smirk on her face, thinking what he might have told himself …
It’s not what I’m here for, though.
I’m no common burglar.
… and she set the pendant back down.
Then Riley could feel the killer’s adrenaline surge at the sounds of Ogden mounting the steps outside.
She felt his body brace in preparation as he turned toward the door. At the same time she flashed back to the images she’d seen of the slain Bonnett family, and how their skulls had been caved in with numerous hammer blows.
She shuddered slightly as she sensed the killer’s thoughts …
This won’t be like last time.
Not so sloppy and reckless.
Again, she imagined the weight of the hammer in her hand. Perhaps, she considered, the killer had even been practicing his swing lately to hone his aim, hitting trees with the hammer, pretending he was hitting Ogden’s skull, preparing to strike that single perfect blow.
And then …
She could see the screen door opening, and Ogden stepping inside.
She could imagine Ogden squinting with surprise as she realized …
I’m standing between him and the lamp.
The killer was just a shadowy figure to Ogden.
Given another couple of seconds, Ogden’s eyes might have adjusted, and he could have seen the killer’s face, but …
I won’t give him a chance.
She lifted the imaginary hammer above her head and crashed it precisely in the middle of Ogden’s forehead. She felt and heard the crunch of his skull breaking
open, yanked the hammer back, and watched with grim satisfaction as Ogden stood for a few seconds with a stunned expression, then collapsed onto his back.
Riley found herself gasping for breath as the visualization ended.
That was vivid, she thought. That was damned vivid.
She staggered past Bill, Jenn, and the two cops out onto the porch. She leaned trembling against the railing and brought her breathing under control.
Her colleagues and the two cops came out onto the porch, and Bill asked …
“What did you get? What did you see?”
Riley took a long, slow breath and said …
“The killings are connected—the mass killing of the Bonnetts and Ogden’s murder. The killer is happy with his new work. And …”
Riley sighed bitterly.
“And he’s got a taste for killing. He’ll do it again. And soon, I think.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
As Riley leaned against the porch railing trying to regain her calm, she related her experience to Bill, Jenn, and the two local cops. Although she told them about the killer’s movements, she knew that they could never understand the intensity of her connection with his mind.
Finally she said, “The pendant’s probably the most important thing. The killer just left it there on the table. If he were just some drifter, he’d never have done that. He’d have stolen it for sure. Officer Kuehling, you were right. Robbery wasn’t the motive. I think the killer knew the victim, and he picked him out well in advance.”
By now Officers Kuehling and Wolfe were staring at her with perplexity.
“What just happened?” Wolfe asked.
Jenn explained, “Agent Paige is known for her ability to get into a killer’s mind.”
Kuehling’s eyes widened.
“Is that what you did just now?” the young woman asked. “You felt and saw everything the killer felt and saw when he murdered Mr. Ogden? And you knew what he was thinking? How do you do that? Is it like ESP or something?”
Riley fought down a sigh.
“No, it’s nothing like that,” she said. The experience had drained her, and she didn’t feel like explaining her process.
