by Blake Pierce
Riley wondered—what kind of greeting had he expected?
He hadn’t even been to see them in about three months. Before that, they had made an attempt at reconciling. He’d spent a couple of months more or less living here, but he’d never completely moved in. He’d kept the comfortable house he had once shared with Riley and April before the separation and divorce.
The girls had been happy to have him around—until he lost interest and wandered off again.
The girls had been crushed by that.
And now, here he was again, out of the blue and without warning.
The silence continued to hang in the air. Then Jilly crossed her arms and scowled.
Turning to Riley and April, she asked, “Where did the two of you take off to, anyway?”
Riley gulped.
She hated to lie to Jilly, but this would surely be a bad time to tell her about April’s gun.
Fortunately, April said, “We just had an errand to run.”
Ryan looked up at April.
“Hey, sweetie,” he said. “Don’t I get a hug or something?”
April didn’t make eye contact with him. She just stood there shuffling her feet for a moment.
Finally she said in a sullen voice, “Hi, Daddy.”
Looking like she was about to burst into tears, April turned around and trotted up the stairs to her room.
Ryan’s mouth dropped open.
“What was that all about?” he said.
Riley sat down alone on the couch, trying to figure out how best to handle the situation.
She asked again, “What are you doing here, Ryan?”
Ryan shrugged.
“Jilly and I are talking about her schoolwork—or at least I’m trying to get her to talk about her schoolwork. Have her grades been slipping? Is that what she doesn’t want to tell me?”
“My grades are fine,” Jilly said.
“So tell me all about school, why don’t you?” Ryan asked.
“School’s fine—Mr. Paige,” Jilly said.
Riley cringed, and Ryan looked wounded.
Jilly had started calling Ryan “Dad” just before he had left.
Before that, she had called him “Ryan.” Riley was sure that Jilly had never called him Mr. Paige before. The girl was expressing her attitude very clearly.
Jilly got up from her chair and said, “If it’s OK with everybody, I’ve got some homework to do.”
“Do you want any help?” Ryan asked.
Jilly ignored the question and trotted up the stairs.
Ryan looked at Riley with a stricken expression.
“What’s going on here?” he said. “Why are the girls so mad at me?”
Riley sighed bitterly. Sometimes her ex was just as immature as they’d both been when they married so young.
“Ryan, what on earth did you expect?” she asked, as patiently as she could manage. “When you moved in, the girls were just thrilled to have you around. Especially Jilly. Ryan, that poor girl’s father was an abusive drunk. She almost became a prostitute to get away from him—and she’s just thirteen years old! It meant so much to her to have a father figure like you in her life. Don’t you understand how crushed she was when you took off?”
Ryan just stared at her with a puzzled expression, as if he had no idea what she was talking about.
But Riley remembered all too well what Ryan had told her on the phone.
“I need some space. This whole family thing—I thought I was ready for it, but I wasn’t.”
And he hadn’t shown a lot of concern about Jilly at the time.
“Riley, Jilly was your decision. I admire you for it. But I never signed up for it. Somebody else’s troubled teenager is too much for me. It’s not fair.”
And now here he was, acting hurt because Jilly didn’t want to call him “Dad” anymore.
It really was infuriating.
Riley found it small wonder that the two girls had stormed off just now. She more than half wanted to do the same thing. Unfortunately, somebody had to be an adult in this situation. And since Ryan seemed to be incapable of that, Riley was stuck with the job.
Before she could think of what to say next, Ryan got up from his chair and sat down beside her. He reached toward her.
Riley pushed him away.
“Ryan, what are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
Ryan’s voice sounded amorous now.
Riley’s fury was mounting by the second.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said. “How many girlfriends have you been through since you’ve been gone?”
“Girlfriends?” Ryan asked, obviously trying to sound baffled by the very question.
“You heard me. Or did you forget? One of them mistakenly called here while you were still around. She sounded drunk. You said her name was Lina. But I don’t guess Lina was the last. How many more have there been? Do you even know? Do you even remember all their names?”
Ryan didn’t reply. He looked guilty now.
Everything was starting to make sense to Riley. This whole thing had happened before, and she felt stupid for not having expected it.
Ryan was between girlfriends, and he figured Riley would do under the circumstances.
He didn’t really care about the girls at all—not even his own daughter. They were just a pretext for getting together with Riley.
Riley clenched her teeth and said, “I think you’d better leave.”
“Why? What’s the matter? You’re not seeing anyone, are you?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
Now Ryan looked genuinely perplexed, as if he couldn’t imagine why Riley would take an interest in any other man.
Then he said, “Oh my God. It’s not that cook again, is it?”
Riley let out a growl of anger.
She said, “You know very well that Blaine is a master chef. You also know that he owns a nice restaurant, and April and his daughter are best friends. He’s terrific with the girls—everything you’re not. And yes, I am seeing him, and it’s getting pretty serious. So I really, really want you to get out of here.”
Ryan stared at her for a moment.
Finally he said in a bitter voice, “We were good together.”
She didn’t reply.
Ryan got up from the couch and headed for the door.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said as he left the house.
Riley was tempted to say …
“Don’t hold your breath.”
… but she managed to not say it. She just sat still until she heard the sound of Ryan’s car pulling away. Then she breathed a little easier.
Riley sat there in silence for a little while, thinking about what had happened.
Jilly called him “Mr. Paige.”
That had been cruel, but she couldn’t deny that Ryan had deserved it.
Even so, she worried—what should she say to Jilly about that kind of cruelty?
This motherhood thing is tough, she thought.
She was about to call Jilly down from her room to talk about it when her phone buzzed. The call was from Jenn Roston, a young agent she’d worked with on recent cases.
When Riley took the call, she could hear the stress in Jenn’s voice.
“Hey, Riley. I just thought I’d call and …”
A silence fell. Riley wondered what was on Jenn’s mind.
Then Jenn said, “Listen, I just want to thank you and Bill for … you know … when I …”
Riley was on the verge of telling her …
“Don’t say it. Not over the phone.”
Fortunately, Jenn’s voice faded without finishing her thought.
Even so, Riley knew what Jenn was thanking her for.
During the case they’d just finished, Jenn had gone AWOL for most of a day. Riley had persuaded Bill that they should cover for her. After all, Jenn had covered for Riley in a somewhat similar situation.
But Jenn�
��s delinquency from her job had been due to the demands of a woman who had once been her foster mother, but who was also a master criminal. Jenn had stepped outside of legal boundaries to take care of a problem for “Aunt Cora.”
Riley didn’t know exactly what it had been. She hadn’t asked.
She heard Jenn make a slight choking sound.
“Riley, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should just turn in my badge. What happened before might happen again. And it might be worse next time. Anyway, I don’t think it’s over.”
Riley sensed that Jenn wasn’t telling her the real truth.
Aunt Cora is pressuring her again, Riley thought.
It was hardly surprising. If Aunt Cora’s hold was strong enough, Jenn could serve as a real resource from inside the FBI.
Riley briefly wondered …
Should Jenn resign?
But she quickly told herself …
No.
After all, Riley had had a similar relationship with a master criminal—the brilliant escaped convict Shane Hatcher. It had ended after Blaine had shot Hatcher, almost fatally, and Riley had captured him. Hatcher was back in Sing Sing now, and he hadn’t spoken a word to anybody ever since.
Jenn knew more about Riley’s relationship with Hatcher than anybody except Hatcher himself. Jenn could have destroyed Riley’s career with the knowledge she had. But she had kept quiet out of loyalty to Riley. Now it was time for Riley to show the same loyalty to Jenn.
Riley said, “Jenn, remember what I said to you when you first talked to me about this?”
Jenn was silent.
Riley said, “I told you we’d deal with this. You and me, together. You can’t quit. You’ve got too much talent. Do you hear me?”
Jenn still said nothing.
Instead, Riley heard the beep of her call-waiting service telling her that she had another caller.
Ignore it, she told herself.
But the beep came again. Riley’s gut told her that the other call was something important. She sighed.
She said to Jenn, “Look, I’ve got to take another call. Stay on the line, OK? I’ll try to make it quick.”
“OK,” Jenn said.
Riley switched to the incoming call and heard the gruff voice of her team chief at the BAU, Brent Meredith.
“Agent Paige, we’ve got a case. It’s a serial killer in the Midwest. I need to see you in my office.”
“When?” Riley asked.
“Already,” Meredith grumbled. “Sooner if possible.”
Riley could tell by his tone that this really was an urgent matter.
“I’ll leave right now,” Riley said. “Who else are you putting on the team?”
“That’s up to you,” Meredith said. “You and Agents Jeffreys and Roston did good work together on the Sandman case. Take both of them if it suits you. And all of you get your asses right over here.”
Without another word, Meredith ended the call.
Riley got back on the line with Jenn.
She said, “Jenn, turning in your badge isn’t an option. Not right now. I need you on a case. Meet me at Brent Meredith’s office. And hurry.”
Without waiting for an answer, Riley ended the call. As she dialed the number of her partner, Bill Jeffreys, she thought …
Maybe another case is just what Jenn needs right now.
Riley hoped so.
Meanwhile, she felt a familiar heightening of her own alertness as she hurried to find out what the new case might be.
CHAPTER FOUR
About a half hour later, Riley pulled into the parking lot at Quantico. When she’d asked Meredith how soon he wanted her there, she’d heard real urgency in his voice …
“Already. Sooner if possible.”
Of course, when Meredith called her at home, time was almost always running out—sometimes literally, as in her last case. The so-called Sandman had used sand timers to mark the hours that would elapse before his next brutal murder.
But today, something in Meredith’s tone told her that this situation was pressing in some unique way.
As she parked, she saw that Bill and Jenn were also just arriving in their own vehicles. She got out of her car and stood waiting for them.
Without exchanging many words, the three walked toward the building. Riley saw that, like her, Bill and Jenn had brought their go-bags along. None of them had needed to be told that they’d likely be flying out of Quantico in short order.
They checked into the building and headed toward Chief Meredith’s office. As soon as they got to his door, the burly, imposing African-American man burst out into the hallway. He’d obviously been notified of their arrival.
“No time for a conference,” he growled at the three agents. “We’ll talk and walk.”
As they hurried along with Meredith, Riley realized that they were headed straight to Quantico’s airstrip.
We really are in a hurry, Riley thought. It was unusual not to have at least a brief meeting to bring them up to speed on a new case.
Striding along beside Meredith, Bill asked, “What’s this all about, Chief?”
Meredith said, “Right now there’s a decapitated dead body on a train track near Barnwell, Illinois. It’s a line out of Chicago. A woman was bound to the tracks and run over by a freight train, just a few hours ago. It’s the second such killing in four days and there are apparently striking similarities. It looks like we’re dealing with a serial.”
Meredith began to walk a little faster, and the three agents scurried to keep up.
Riley asked, “Who called for the FBI?”
Meredith said, “I got the call from Jude Cullen, the Chicago area Deputy Chief of Railroad Police. He says he wants profilers there right away. I told him to leave the body where it was until my agents got a look at it.”
Meredith grunted a little.
“That’s a pretty tall order. Three more freight trains are scheduled along that track today, and a passenger train as well. Right now, they’re all on hold, and it’s already getting to be a mess. You need to get out there ASAP and get a look at the crime scene so the body can be moved and the trains can start running again. And then …”
Meredith grunted again.
“Well, you’ve got a killer to stop. And I’m pretty sure we all agree on one thing—he will kill again. Aside from that, you now know as much about the case as I do. Cullen will have to fill you in on anything else.”
The group stepped out onto the tarmac of the airstrip where the small jet was waiting, its engines already rumbling.
Over the sound, Meredith called out, “You’ll be met at O’Hare by some railroad cops. They’ll drive you straight to the crime scene.”
Meredith turned around and headed back into the building, and Riley and her colleagues mounted the steps and boarded the plane. The hastiness of their departure almost made Riley dizzy. She couldn’t remember Meredith ever rushing them out like that.
But it was hardly any surprise, considering that railroad traffic was stalled. Riley couldn’t imagine that enormous difficulties that might be causing right now.
Once the plane was airborne, the three agents opened their computers and got online to look for what little information they might find at this point.
Riley quickly saw that news of the most recent killing was already spreading, although the current victim’s name wasn’t yet available. But she saw that the previous victim’s name was Fern Bruder, a twenty-five-year-old woman whose decapitated body had been found on a train track near Allardt, Indiana.
Riley couldn’t find much else online about the murders. If the railroad police had any suspects or knew of any motive, that information hadn’t leaked to the public yet—which was a good thing as far as Riley was concerned.
Still, it was frustrating not to be able to learn more right now.
With so little to think about regarding the case, Riley found herself mulling over what had happened so far today. She still felt a pang about losing Liam—although sh
e also realized …
“Losing” isn’t exactly the right word.
No, she and her family had done their very best for the boy. And now things had turned out for the best, and Liam was in the care of people who would love him and take good care of him.
Even so, Riley wondered …
Why does it feel like a loss?
Riley also had mixed feelings about buying April a gun and taking her to the shooting range. April’s show of maturity had certainly made Riley proud, and so had her budding marksmanship. Riley was also deeply touched that her daughter wanted to follow in her footsteps.
And yet … Riley couldn’t help but remind herself …
I’m on my way to view a decapitated body.
Her whole career was one long string of horrors. Was this really a life she wanted for April?
It’s not up to me, Riley reminded herself. It’s up to her.
Riley also felt strange about that awkward phone conversation she’d had with Jenn a little while ago. So much had been left unspoken, and Riley had no idea what might be going on right now between Jenn and Aunt Cora. And of course, now was no time to talk it out—not with Bill sitting right here with them.
Riley couldn’t help but wonder …
Was Jenn right? Should she turn in her badge?
Was Riley doing the young agent any favors by encouraging her to stay with the FBI?
And was Jenn in the right frame of mind to take on a new case right now?
Riley looked over at Jenn, who was sitting in her seat staring raptly at her computer.
Jenn certainly seemed fully focused at the moment—more so than Riley was, anyway.
Riley’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Bill’s voice.
“Tied to railroad tracks. It almost sounds like …”
Riley saw that Bill was also looking at his computer screen.
He paused, but Jenn finished his thought.
“Like one of those old-time silent movies, huh? Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
Bill shook his head.
“I sure don’t mean to make light of it … but I keep thinking of some mustachioed villain in a top hat tying a young damsel to the train tracks until some dashing hero comes along to rescue her. Isn’t that what always happened in silent movies?”
Jenn pointed at her computer screen.
