LURING

by Blake Pierce

  Still staring at Riley, he smiled and said …

  “Think, Riley—about pain, shame, self-hatred, and especially ugliness.”

  Riley felt ready to explode.

  She simply couldn’t take this anymore.

  She jumped up from her seat and hurried out of the courtroom. Then she stood in the hallway, gasping and hyperventilating. In just a few seconds, Crivaro came dashing through the door and took her by the shoulders.

  “Riley, sit down. Take some deep breaths. It’ll be all right.”

  Riley sat down with Crivaro on a wooden bench.

  Fighting back her tears she said …

  “It won’t be all right. He’s going to get off. He’s going to be found not guilty.”

  Crivaro squeezed her hand and said in a firm voice …

  “No, he won’t. I promise.”

  “How can you know that?” Riley asked.

  “Think about it, Riley. He’s not even trying to defend himself. If he were, he’d be talking about those notes he’d written, trying to explain them away. But he knows that’s impossible. His fate is sealed. My guess is the verdict will be in by tomorrow.”

  Riley felt stunned and baffled.

  “Then what was he trying to do … just now?”

  Crivaro stared off into space, as if trying to answer that question for himself.

  Finally he murmured …

  “Riley, you’re not going to like this.”

  “Tell me,” Riley said.

  Crivaro shook his head and said, “It’s about you. All of this. The plea of not guilty, the trial, everything. All he wanted was a moment to look into your eyes and make you question your own sanity.”

  “But why?” Riley asked.

  Crivaro shrugged.

  “Do you really have to ask?” he said. “Riley, you led me right to him. It’s because of you that he’s been brought to justice. You and your fine instincts. It’s been eating him up inside, the whole time he’s been in jail—that he let a college kid wreck all his brilliant plans. He’ll never be able to get back at you, never truly even the score between you. But …”

  Riley felt as though she was starting to understand now.

  She said, “But by going on trial, and getting to face me in the court room, he could mess with my head one last time.”

  She sighed and added …

  “And he succeeded.”

  “Not really,” Jake said with a chuckle. “It was pretty desperate on his part. He doesn’t have any power over you—not now. I mean, he took his only opportunity and did his worst, and you still seem pretty sane to me.”

  Riley fell silent for a moment.

  She thought hard about what Crivaro was saying.

  She felt sure that it was true …

  As far as it goes.

  But she sensed that Crivaro was missing something.

  Hayman must have had some purpose in mind other than simply making her feel like she was going crazy.

  But what was it?

  She remembered something that he’d said about her …

  “I was flattered that she held me in such high regard.”

  She murmured aloud …

  “He wanted to finish mentoring me.”

  Crivaro gave her a startled look.

  “Huh?” he said.

  Still trying to grasp the truth, Riley remembered those last words she’d heard Hayman say …

  “Think, Riley—about pain, shame, self-hatred, and especially ugliness.”

  Those words clanged about in her mind, mixing with images she’d encountered in recent days.

  Riley gasped and said to Crivaro …

  “We’ve got to go back to Hyland. Right now.”

  “Why?” Crivaro said.

  “I know who killed those women,” Riley said. “It wasn’t the Cardin brothers.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  While Jake drove the car back to Hyland, he listened eagerly to Riley’s new theory. She was sure Brant Hayman had given her a hint during his final moments on the stand, just before she’d rushed out of the courtroom. And now she believed she knew what he’d been getting at.

  She said, “Those words Hayman used—pain, shame, self-hatred, and ugliness. Those are characteristics of the killer himself. He’s been living with them all his life. And now he’s trying to escape all those feelings by inflicting them on others. The victims die an incredibly painful death—but more than that, they’re degraded, disfigured, even humiliated.”

  Jake crinkled his brow skeptically.

  “It’s an interesting idea,” he said. “But how did Hayman come up with it?”

  Jake heard Riley let out a bitter sigh.

  “He’s brilliant,” she said. “I know we both hate to admit it about a cold-blooded killer, but he’s got incredible insights into criminal pathology. And he got a kick out of sharing one last insight with me before he heads off to death row. It was like he got to teach one last lesson.”

  Jake shook his head and said, “Riley, I don’t know if I …”

  Riley interrupted insistently.

  “Think about it, Agent Crivaro. Do you remember when we went to the crime scene to look at Anna Park’s body? I got a powerful feeling about the killer—that what he was doing was all about pain. But it wasn’t just about his victims’ pain. It was also about his own.”

  Jake began to sense some truth in what Riley was saying.

  He said, “And the killer is in pain because …”

  “He’s ugly,” Riley said. “He’s lived with humiliation and shame and self-hatred all his life.”

  Suddenly it felt as if a light flashed on in Jake’s head.

  He remembered a phrase Phil Cardin had used to describe his ex-wife’s new husband …

  “… that toad she took up with.”

  Jake also remembered how he himself had reacted when he’d first seen the man’s face …

  “My God,” he murmured, glancing over at Riley. “You think Dr. Gibson is the killer.”

  Riley nodded vigorously.

  “I’m all but sure of it. When we drove out of Hyland yesterday, I saw him walking down the street. When he saw me, he stopped and stared. It was a really weird look—hostile, I thought at the time. But now I realize, it was a guilty look too.”

  Jake’s brain clicked away as he considered this possibility.

  It makes sense, he thought.

  And these days, he had to admit, Riley’s instincts were functioning better than his own.

  He said, “Riley, I need you to call Chief Tallhamer on your cellphone.”

  Riley asked, “Should I tell him to release the Cardin brothers?”

  “No, it’s too soon for that,” Jake said. “Tell him we need Dr. Gibson’s office address. We’re going to pay him a visit.”

  *

  In a town as small as Hyland, it was easy enough to find the address that Tallhamer had given them. Dr. Gibson’s office was actually a wing attached to his modest but attractive house on the edge of town. The place was somewhat isolated, set among rolling hills and patches of forest.

  Jake pulled into the driveway, then he and Riley got out of the car and walked to the door that led into Gibson’s office. They entered a small foyer, where a white-clad woman was sitting at a desk—Gibson’s nurse/receptionist, Jake guessed.

  Before the receptionist could say a word to them, the office door opened, and Dr. Gibson came out with a middle-aged female patient. He was handing her a prescription and giving friendly dietary advice for dealing with high cholesterol. The woman gave them a curious glance, then thanked the doctor f or his help and left.

  Then Dr. Gibson stood looking at Jake and Riley.

  Jake remembered how bitter and angry Gibson had seemed when he’d confronted them in front of the police station saying …

  “I guess it’s no surprise that you got here just in time to be of no use at all.”

  But now his pockmarked face lit up with an almost eerily pleasant smile.
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  “The FBI people again, I see,” he said. “I’m sorry—I may have heard your names, but I’ve forgotten.”

  Jake produced his badge and introduced himself and Riley.

  Gibson smiled enigmatically and said to them …

  “I’m really rather glad you stopped by.”

  Then Gibson turned to the woman at the desk and said …

  “Julia, I believe Mrs. Norris was my last patient for the day, am I correct?”

  “That’s right, doctor,” the woman said.

  Gibson nodded at her and said, “And I doubt there will be any drop-ins. Why don’t you close up for the day, Julia? Take the rest of the afternoon off.”

  Julia smiled and said, “Thanks, doctor. I’d like that.”

  As Julia scurried around preparing to leave, Gibson said to Jake and Riley …

  “That’s one of the perks of being a small-town doctor—lots of unanticipated leisure time. It’s not exactly a lucrative business, but at least I don’t have to deal with the same pace and pressure as big city doctors. Let’s go over into the house and you can tell me why you’re paying me a visit.”

  They walked through a door that led directly into the living room of the main house. It was a large, pleasantly decorated, and impeccably neat area with plush furniture and fancy valances on the windows.

  Dr. Gibson invited them to have a seat on the cushiony sofa, then sat in a big soft-looking chair himself.

  He folded his hands together on his knee and said, “I believe I owe you an apology for my behavior yesterday. Grief brings out the worst in people—I’ve seen it among people I deal with, especially when they’ve lost a loved one. I’m embarrassed to fall prey to it myself. You’re only here to do your job, after all, and murder investigations can’t be pleasant work. I’m sure we can all breathe a sigh of relief that my wife’s killers are safely in custody. Would you like something to drink—some iced tea, maybe?”

  Something about Gibson’s hospitality struck Jake as forced and insincere. But of course if Riley was right, Gibson was just putting on a show of friendliness.

  “No, thank you,” Jake said. “We’re just here to wrap up some loose ends.”

  “Certainly,” Gibson said. “How can I be of help?”

  Jake hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to proceed. How could he draw the man out, find out if he really was the killer? What sorts of questions could he ask without giving himself away?

  Jake and Gibson sat looking at each other for a moment.

  Then with a wry twist to his smile, Gibson said …

  “I believe you’ve got some questions about me, don’t you Agent Crivaro?”

  Jake felt a slight chill as he realized …

  He knows why we’re here.

  And now—was the man going to play some sort of game with them? Jake decided to keep quiet and find out how the doctor would proceed.

  Gibson crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

  He said, “I suppose you’d like to look around the place. Do you have a warrant?”

  Jake shook his head.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter,” Gibson said with an expansive gesture. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re free to look wherever you like.”

  Gibson got up from his chair and added, “Come on. I’ll show you something that might interest you.”

  Jake and Riley exchanged wary glances, then got up and followed Gibson toward a pair of doors on the other side of the room. Gibson swung both doors open, revealing another room almost as large as the one they were in.

  A formal dining room, Jake thought. But he saw nothing that looked like dining room furniture.

  The doctor stood back and motioned Jake and Riley inside.

  Followed by Riley, Jake stepped into the room.

  At first the strange clutter he saw was confusing.

  Was this some kind of exercise room?

  But why was there so much leather, and why were there so many spiked objects?

  Then Jake’s mouth dropped open as the realized what he was looking at.

  The room was packed with racks and shelves full of unsettling sexual paraphernalia—whips, harnesses, handcuffs, gags, clamps, and various kinds of contraptions and equipment that he couldn’t even imagine the uses for.

  But most disturbingly, those coils lying loose almost everywhere on the floor …

  Barbed wire!

  Suddenly Jake heard a loud gasp from behind him.

  He whirled around in time to see a wicked grin on Gibson’s face as he stood holding Riley from behind, pulling a length of barbed wire around her throat.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Riley was yanked backwards by a hard loop around her throat.

  Barbed wire, she realized, as her attacker pulled her whole body against him.

  A split-second before, she had seen coils of barbed wire scattered on the floor. Now she could feel two sharp barbs, spaced widely across her neck.

  She stood very still, watching to see what Crivaro would do.

  He had drawn his weapon, but Riley knew that Dr. Gibson was using her as a shield. She didn’t doubt that Crivaro’s aim was good enough to shoot the man in the head if he chose to. He looked like he was evaluating the risk. But judging by his expression, he didn’t want to take the shot.

  And at the moment, she didn’t much want him to.

  As she tried to think through what was happening and what to do about it, Riley was surprised to feel a strange calmness settle over her.

  The real question at the moment was …

  What does he want?

  In effect, he had just taken her hostage. But to what purpose? What did he want in exchange for releasing her? Whole seconds had already gone by, and Gibson hadn’t made the slightest hint of what he had in mind.

  Finally he said to Crivaro in a tight, desperate voice …

  “What do you think would happen if I pull this wire across her throat, so that a barb tears its way across it? What kind of damage? Would the wound go deep enough to cut her windpipe? Or a carotid artery? Or both? Maybe, maybe not. But I’m curious enough to give it a try—unless you stop me.”

  What is he asking Crivaro to do? Riley wondered.

  Then she felt him maneuvering and rotating their bodies into a different position. In a moment, the doctor was no longer using Riley’s body to shield him. Instead, he had made himself entirely visible to Crivaro.

  Riley struggled to understand …

  Doesn’t he realize he’s giving Crivaro a clear shot?

  Then it dawned on her …

  That’s what he wants!

  Dr. Gibson was trying to commit “suicide by cop.”

  Riley decided she couldn’t let that happened.

  She locked eyes with Crivaro, who was still pointing his Glock steadily at the doctor. With a movement of her eyes alone, she signaled Crivaro not to take the shot. Seeming to understand, Crivaro nodded slightly.

  Now it’s all up to me, Riley thought.

  Her calmness deepened, as if time were slowing down and she had no reason to hurry. A memory came back to her—a fighting lesson her father had given her up at his cabin not long ago.

  It was part of a fighting system called Krav Maga, and the techniques he had taught her were brutal and merciless.

  He’d told her …

  “Sheer aggression is the key thing.”

  During the lesson, her father had put Riley in a hold much like this.

  She remembered exactly how she’d escaped it …

  I’ve just got to do the same thing right now.

  Without another moment’s hesitation, she slammed a fist backward into Gibson’s groin. As he let out a groan of pain, she spun around and grabbed him by the hair with one hand. Making a fist with the other hand, she smashed him in the face.

  As her assailant collapsed onto the floor, she remembered her father saying …

  “You don’t stop until he’s debilitated—or dead.”

  Her adrenaline surging
wildly now, Riley seized the nearest object in reach—a whip with a hard wooden handle. She crouched beside Gibson and raised the whip to slam it handle-first into his face when she heard Crivaro call out …

  “Riley! Don’t kill him, damn it!”

  Crivaro’s voice snapped her out of the savage spell.

  The aggression ebbed from her body, and she saw Dr. Gibson trembling at her feet, his nose bloody from where she’d punched him. She stepped aside, and Crivaro hoisted Gibson to his feet.

  As he put handcuffs on the doctor, Crivaro said to Riley …

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

  Riley shrugged slightly and said, “My Dad taught me.”

  Crivaro let out a grunt of laughter.

  He said, “I should have known. He’s an interesting man, that father of yours.”

  *

  A little while later, Riley and Crivaro dragged the handcuffed physician into the police station, to the astonishment of everyone there.

  “What the hell!” Tallhamer exclaimed.

  Crivaro asked, “Have you got an interrogation room?”

  His mouth gaping, Tallhamer shook his head no.

  “We’ll need an empty jail cell, then,” Jake said.

  Tallhamer followed along behind Riley and Crivaro as they escorted Gibson back into the jail. The only two cells were occupied by the Cardin brothers. At Crivaro’s instruction, Tallhamer moved Harvey out of his cell and into the other with Phil. Then Crivaro shoved Gibson into the empty cell and made him sit down on the bed.

  Riley joined Crivaro in the jail cell while Tallhamer remained standing in the corridor.

  Crivaro said sharply to Gibson …

  “You’d better start talking now. Or do you want a lawyer present?”

  Gibson laughed grimly and said, “Do you mean Ozzie Hines? He’s the only lawyer in town and he’s worse than useless. No, I don’t need legal representation. I’m ready to talk. In fact, I’m glad of this. I’m relieved.”

  Gibson’s eyes darted back and forth between Riley and Crivaro. Again, Riley was startled by how homely the man was, especially now that his nose was bleeding.

  “Tell me something,” he said. “Do you have any idea what it’s like being despised, even by the people you most love, even by yourself? It feels … like this.”