by Blake Pierce
Riley said tiredly, “It’s a crime, Tisha. What were you thinking, lying to an FBI agent? Why did you do that?”
Tisha shrugged and said, “I was embarrassed, OK? I was feeling weak and helpless when I went there. And I don’t like feeling like that. I like to think I can deal with anything, no matter how rough things get. I sure as hell didn’t want to admit I’d gone there. Especially not to a tough chick like you.”
Riley felt thoroughly mortified now. She had no doubt that Tisha was telling the truth—at least about this. And from what Bill had just said, Tisha obviously was not the murderer.
When she was freed from the cuffs, Tisha rubbed her wrists.
“I’ve got half a mind to sue your ass for what you just did,” she said.
Riley suppressed a growl of annoyance.
She wanted to say …
Go ahead and try.
She knew she had Tisha dead to rights for lying to an FBI agent, if nothing else. Tisha couldn’t make a case against her for attempting a false arrest.
But now that she knew the truth, questions started crowding into Riley’s mind.
Trying to calm herself, Riley said, “Tisha, you might have important information. Did anyone in the LifeGrasp group stand out to you? Someone especially angry? Someone who took special interest in your situation?”
Tisha snapped, “If you think I’ve got anything more to say to you, you’re even crazier than I already thought.”
Tisha turned and walked away. Riley took a couple of steps to follow her, but Bill’s voice stopped her.
“It’s no use, Riley. You aren’t going to get any answers from her, at least not now. Come on. Let’s get back to Atlanta.”
Feeling thoroughly defeated, Riley followed Jared and Bill out of the house.
I just blew it, she thought. I completely screwed up.
Meanwhile, she knew they were losing valuable time.
There was a serial killer at large who might well have already targeted another victim.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
During the short trip from Monarch to Atlanta, Riley was struggling with despair and embarrassment.
She wondered …
When am I going to get something right about this case?
Bill was driving, filling her in what he and Jared had been doing since the last time they’d talked. He said that rest of their little undercover mission had been unproductive. They’d extended their golf-cart trip to the various courses in the area, questioning people pretty much at random. But they’d done no better than the more organized computer searches the FBI had been making. Nobody had turned up any connection among the victims that might point to a killer.
In fact, they hadn’t gotten any useful information at all.
Riley then shared more details about her use of the one bit of information Bill had passed on to her—that a lot of local wives participated in group sessions at LifeGrasp. That slim lead had only resulted in her disastrous attempt to arrest Tisha Harter.
When she finished, Jared wanted to get into the conversation.
He asked, “Isn’t it still possible that one or more of the widows is guilty? Or even all of them? Maybe they met at LifeGrasp and wound up conspiring together, agreeing to kill their husbands in exactly the same way so that the murders looked like the work of a single killer.”
Jared barely paused for breath before he took another tack.
“Or maybe they even traded murders. You know, like in that Hitchcock flick, Strangers on a Train.”
That sounded farfetched to Riley, but she didn’t dismiss it out of hand.
But Bill shot down that theory.
“The women seem to have all gone to different LifeGrasp clinics,” he said. “We’ve got no reason to think they ever met each other.”
Riley added, “Besides, I’m all but sure that neither Morgan nor Charlotte has the kind of computer skills needed to hack security systems. And my instincts tell me that neither one of them has got the makings of a killer.”
Jared let out a snort of laughter.
“Your instincts, huh? How good were your instincts working when you slapped the cuffs on Tisha Harter back there?”
Riley felt both stung and angry.
She said, “You’d better watch your mouth, Jared.”
Jared seemed completely unfazed by her comment.
He said, “Or maybe the women were brainwashed into killing by all that New Age crap at LifeGrasp. You know, like in The Manchurian Candidate …”
As Jared ranted on about the mesmerizing effects of incense and droning music, his ideas went off the rails of plausibility altogether. Riley and Bill were both relieved when they dropped him off at his apartment building and drove on to their hotel. They each went to their rooms to freshen up before getting back together for dinner.
While she was alone in her room, Riley took the opportunity to call Van Roff again. She wanted the computer geek to hack into LifeGrasp’s business records. Of course he said he would be delighted to do so.
She then asked him to check credit card payments to see if he could locate any clients who might have gone to more than one of the LifeGrasp clinics. Roff turned up nothing, which didn’t surprise Riley. After all, Eleanora Oberlander had told her that many clients paid in cash. If the murderer really had been a LifeGrasp client, she would have known better than to leave a credit card trail that led to her.
Riley thanked Roff and ended the call.
She sat on the edge of the motel room bed wondering …
Is there anything else I can do right now?
The whole day had gone so terribly wrong. Was there anything she could do to salvage some hope of solving this case?
Her cell phone rang, and she saw that the call was from home.
She answered and heard Jilly’s crying voice.
“Mom, April’s up to something awful! You’ve got to make her stop!”
Riley stifled a sigh. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a sibling spat right now.
“What’s wrong?” Riley asked, trying to sound patient. “What did April do?”
“She wants to get a kitten! I keep telling her we can’t, but she won’t listen.”
Suddenly Riley’s head hurt.
She almost asked, “Why can’t April get a kitten?”
But she stopped herself.
So far, nobody had talked to her one way or the other about a kitten. And she certainly hadn’t had time to think the possibility through. If she wasn’t careful, she might agree to something she’d be sorry for later.
Riley groaned and said, “Is your sister there?”
“Yeah, I’ll get her.”
She heard Jilly stomping away, then the sound of the two girls speaking sharply to each other.
Finally April got on the phone.
Riley asked, “April, what’s going on with you and your sister?”
“Oh, Mom, Jilly’s being crazy and selfish.”
“What’s this she said about you wanting a kitten?”
April sounded on the verge of tears now.
“My friend Addie has a cat that just had a litter. Addie’s given all the kittens away except one. If I don’t take it, Addie’s mother will take it to the pound. And you know what’s liable to happen to it then! They’ll kill the poor thing!”
Riley’s headache was getting worse by the second.
She said, “April, I really need for both of you girls to—”
April interrupted, “Mom, if you could see this kitten, it’s so cute and adorable! She’s black and white and fluffy, and she purrs so loud when you pet her! She just breaks my heart! Look, I’ll send you a picture.”
“Don’t,” Riley replied hastily. “Just give me a minute.”
Riley fell silent, trying to think this new crisis through.
Finally she decided that she had to ask the obvious question …
“April, why does Jilly think you can’t get a kitten?”
“Because of the new p
uppy! Jilly’s got this stupid idea that you can’t have a dog and a cat in the same house. She says they’ll never get along. But really, I just think she doesn’t want me to have a pet of my own. She wants Darby to be the only pet in the house. She’s just being selfish.”
Riley was starting to feel angry with both girls now.
She said, “April, you’ve been so responsible and grown up lately. Can’t you figure out some way to handle this on your own? Or wait until I get back?”
“It can’t wait, Mom. It’s today or never. They’ll take the kitten to the pound tomorrow.”
Riley tried to sort through what she was hearing.
Why does this seem so difficult? she wondered.
Of course, she knew that getting another pet was a big decision under the best of circumstances.
And these definitely weren’t the best circumstances.
Riley heaved a long sigh. “Put Jilly back on the phone.”
“But Mom—”
“Just do it, OK?”
Jilly was still crying when she got back on the phone.
Riley said, “Jilly, where did you get the idea that cats and dogs never get along?”
“I don’t know. Everybody says so.”
“Well, that’s not true—at least not all the time. Sometimes, if they start out living together as puppies and kittens, they grow up to be best friends. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Riley heard Jilly gulp down a sob.
“I guess,” she said.
Maybe I’m getting somewhere, Riley thought.
“Jilly, you were really, really happy to get Darby back, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Was April upset when you came home with Darby?”
“No. She was happy too.”
Riley took a long breath. “Well, would it be so hard for you to be happy for April about getting a kitten? Doesn’t that seem fair?”
A silence fell. Riley held her breath and waited.
Was Jilly going to throw a typical teenage fit about this, accuse Riley of always taking April’s side?
Finally Jilly said, “I guess it’s fair.”
Riley breathed a sigh of relief.
“OK, then. I want you to go tell April that you’re really happy about her getting a kitten. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure,” Jilly said.
“And tell her I love both of you and miss you.”
“I’ll do that. Love you too, Mom.”
The call ended, and Riley sat on the edge of the bed trying to sort through what had just happened.
She realized …
I just told the girls they could have a cat.
Exactly how that had happened, she didn’t really know.
She headed to the bathroom to get herself ready to meet Bill for dinner.
*
While Bill was in his room alone, he used his cell phone to find a local restaurant. He’d been worried about Riley ever since the episode with Tisha Harter. She’d seemed more upset than she usually got over a setback. Bill figured they both deserved the comfort of a nicer-than-average dinner on the FBI’s credit card.
He drove Riley to a pleasant little steakhouse that he’d found online. They ordered steaks and red wine and talked about the case. By the time their food arrived, Bill had to agree with Riley that they were truly at an impasse.
Riley said, “I can’t believe I was so stupid, trying to arrest Tisha Harter like that.”
“Stop beating yourself up, Riley,” Bill said. “At least we know now that there was some connection among the three widows. It might still mean something. Maybe the killer really is a woman.”
Riley just let out a growl of discouragement.
Bill fumbled around trying to think of something encouraging to say.
“Maybe the women hired a killer,” he said.
“Those weren’t professional hits, and you know it.”
Bill didn’t reply. The truth was, he knew that Riley was perfectly right.
He’d never dealt with a female killer who was that violent, and he’d never heard of a hired killer going crazy with a knife like that.
He and Riley tossed around a few more lame ideas over dinner, then gave it up entirely. By the time they finished eating, Riley wanted to go over to the restaurant’s bar.
Bill started to worry. Riley had already gone through a few glasses of wine and he knew that she could overdo it from time to time. But he didn’t want to make her feel worse by making a fuss about it.
At the bar they both ordered bourbon. They drank silently for a few moments until Bill said, “You know, it’s really my fault. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal out of those guys complaining about their wives. I should have known better than to think that amounted to anything.”
Riley shook her head and sighed.
“No, I’ve been off my game from the start,” she said. “I keep getting gut feelings that lead us nowhere. First I suspected that architect, Harrison Lund. Now I’ve made this stupid mistake with Tisha Harter. And for a few moments back at the LifeGrasp headquarters, I half-believed Eleanora Oberlander was the killer. How could I be so consistently wrong?”
As Riley called to the bartender for another bourbon, Bill said, “But Riley, you weren’t really wrong about any of those things. Your gut was right about Harrison Lund. The FBI is already investigating him for murder, even if he’s not our murderer. And you had good reason to get suspicious about that Oberlander woman—she’s a phony therapist running a faked-up business. And Tisha Harter really did lie to you. You weren’t wrong about that either.”
Riley was staring bitterly into space.
“I’m losing it, Bill. My instincts are all scattershot. I can’t focus anymore. I’m burning out.”
Bill shifted uneasily on his bar stool.
He said, “Riley, there’s not an agent in the BAU that doesn’t feel this way from time to time. You’ve felt this way before—and don’t tell me you haven’t. I’ve been there too, so I know.”
Something was dawning on him …
I’m kind of feeling the same way right now.
He’d always relied so much on Riley’s instincts that he’d forgotten how to listen to his own …
Or maybe whatever instincts I ever had are just plain shot.
He took a long, slow breath.
The last thing Riley needed right now was for him to chime in with his own worries.
Instead he said, “It passes. It always does. You know it does.”
Riley swallowed the rest of her bourbon and ordered another.
I’d better make sure this is her last, Bill decided.
Riley sipped her new drink. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, Bill. You know, sometimes I think self-doubt and despair are part of the process. They happen on every case, then they go away. Why do you think that happens?”
Bill shrugged again.
“Maybe it’s just how we keep ourselves sharp. It keeps us from getting overconfident. It makes us work harder.”
Riley chuckled a little.
“Well, it sure is a pain in the ass,” she said.
Bill laughed as well.
“It sure as hell is,” he agreed.
They were both quiet for a few moments.
Then Riley said, “You know, maybe I did solve one problem a little while ago …”
She went on to tell Bill about how she’d dealt with an argument between her two daughters over a kitten, and whether the family could have a kitten along with a puppy.
When she was finished, Bill chuckled again.
“You’re a great mother, Riley.”
“I dunno,” Riley said. “The truth is, I think maybe I got had.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Conned. Tricked. Hoodwinked. If it had just been April calling to ask me if she could have had a kitten, I’d probably have said no, and that would be the end of it. But both of them blubbering like that really had me over a barrel. Maybe they really
planned the whole thing. Maybe they really played me.”
Bill laughed harder now.
“Well, either you’re just being paranoid, or your girls are getting along together just fine. You should be happy about that. And is there anything so bad about getting a kitten?”
“Naw, I like cats.”
Bill suddenly felt a wave of melancholy.
“Riley, don’t take your kids for granted. I wish I still had problems like that.”
Riley looked at him with intense sympathy. She reached over and took hold of his hand.
“I’m sorry, Bill. I keep forgetting. I shouldn’t go talking about family like that.”
Bill said, “Don’t go second-guessing yourself. I want you to talk about that stuff. I want to know about whatever is going on in your life.”
As he squeezed her hand back, he felt again a familiar attraction to her. It was always there, deep in the background, and it surfaced from time to time.
And he was absolutely sure that she felt the same way.
We’d better be careful, he told himself.
With considerable effort, he let go of her hand.
Riley was slurring her words a little.
“It’s just that … Bill, I’m so comfortable with you. It’s so easy to talk with you. It’s so easy to laugh with you. You make everything seem OK. And I can tell you absolutely anything.”
Bill felt himself tense up. He knew he’d better not say he felt exactly the same way about her.
He said, “I’m sure it’s the same with Blaine.”
Riley looked almost surprised at the mention of Blaine’s name. Then she knitted her brow in thought.
Bill hoped she wasn’t going to say it wasn’t the same with Blaine.
If she did, he wasn’t sure what he himself might do or say.
But Riley was silent and he finally said, “I think we should call it a night.”
Riley nodded. Bill helped her off the barstool and out to the rented car. When they got back to the motel, he walked her to her room door. She took his hand again and looked into his eyes.
She said, “Bill …”
As he returned her gaze, Bill flashed back to an awful incident last year.
