Behind Her Eyes

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by Robin Mahle




  Behind Her Eyes

  A Riley Thompson Thriller

  Robin Mahle

  HARP House Publishing, LLC.

  Published by HARP House Publishing

  July, 2018 (1st edition)

  Copyright ©2018 by Robin Mahle

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, by any means, including mechanical, electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design: Covermint Design

  Editor: Hercules Editing and Consulting Services www.bzhercules.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  About the Author

  Also by Robin Mahle

  1

  The patrol car rolled to a stop in front of the IGA, the main grocer in Owensville, Indiana, and the place had just been robbed. Two of the town’s finest, Officer Riley Thompson and her partner, Officer Ethan Pruitt, emerged from their vehicle and headed toward the store’s entrance. A few locals had gathered with growing interest in the muted light of a rising sun. Crime was a rare occurrence in this town and tongues were already wagging. Just a speck on a map, it was a town Riley Thompson knew well and had called home since birth.

  “You want to talk to management, or should I?” Ethan stepped through the parting glass doors, hands on hips, scoping out the place with an eagle eye.

  “Why don’t you run on that. I’ll have a word with the cashier who was confronted by the thief.” Riley started toward the woman who’d had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But on second thought, she stopped short. “Hey, Ethan?”

  “Yeah?” The young officer with sharp refined features and a slender build turned back.

  “On the off-chance they have video surveillance, see if you can get a copy?”

  “You got it.”

  Riley was the senior officer, if only by a hair, which meant she gave the orders and did so with authority, minus the bravado. She’d joined the force shortly after her close friend and former Owensville officer Daniel Ward became captain of the department. That was going on six years now, when she was at the tender age of nineteen. However, Riley hadn’t been a typical nineteen-year old. And now at the age of twenty-five, there was, in fact, nothing typical about her.

  Riley and Daniel Ward were among those who had survived the EF4 tornado that had touched down fifteen years ago. It was a catastrophic event that changed them both.

  “Good morning, ma’am. I’m Officer Thompson. You mind if I ask you some questions?” She whipped out her pad and pen.

  The woman, perhaps in her late twenties, was traumatized and could only shake her head in response.

  “Would you like some water?” Before the woman could answer, Riley was already on her way to the small fridge in the checkout lane that housed cold drinks, including bottled water. She retrieved one and returned to her. “Here.”

  “Thank you.” The cashier swallowed down at least half of it.

  “Can you tell me at about what time the suspect entered the store?” Riley asked.

  “Um, I guess it was—I don’t know exactly…”

  “That’s okay. Your best recollection is fine,” Riley added.

  “I guess about 6am. I started my shift at 2. I usually work 2 to 10.” She chugged down the rest of the water.

  “Okay. And was he wearing a mask?”

  She nodded.

  “Did you pick up on any identifying marks? Tattoos, scars, anything like that?” Riley continued taking notes.

  “No. He wore a hoodie and a bandana over his mouth. But he had brown eyes, I saw that much. And he was kind of short, like maybe five-foot-five or something like that.”

  “That’s good. Did he speak with an accent? New York, Texas, anything? Maybe a foreign accent?”

  The cashier seemed to replay the terrifying exchange in her mind. “No. Just sounded like a regular guy from town.”

  Riley stopped writing and peered into the woman’s eyes. She felt something that broke her train of thought. That was what usually happened. The feelings came first, then the images. But what Riley felt now was unrelated to the woman’s recent trauma of the robbery. This person was suffering. And she was suffering from an addiction. Riley envisioned in her mind’s eye the woman tying a tourniquet on her arm and flicking the needle she was about to insert in her vein.

  At this point in Riley’s life, she had learned to control the aftershocks the feelings and visions left in her. It had taken years, but there was a place tucked in the back of her brain where she stored these visions. A place she could call upon if needed, but that allowed her to function. Otherwise, it was likely she would end the way of her grandfather, who also had the gift. And it hadn’t ended well for him.

  Ethan approached with the manager. “He has video for us. It captured the suspect, but the guy was smart enough to keep his face hidden.”

  “Anything outside? Do we know what kind of car he was driving?” Riley asked.

  The manager was an older gentleman, fifties most likely, with kind eyes and a full head of salt and pepper hair. “I’m afraid I don’t have cameras in the parking lot. Suppose I ought to consider installing them in light of what’s happened.”

  “I saw the car,” the cashier said. “It was a Chevy Malibu, I’m pretty sure. My dad had one when I was little. I remember what it looked like.”

  “So it was an older model?” Riley turned to her.

  “Yeah, like 80s or something. It was black and had grey Bondo on one of the doors.”

  “That will be very helpful, thank you.” Riley put away her pad and pen. “I think we’ve got enough to get started. Thank you both for your cooperation and we’ll do everything we can to find the suspect.”

  “Thank you, Officer Thompson, Officer Pruitt.” The manager looked to his employee. “You should go home, Brianne. Get some rest. In fact, why don’t you take tonight off too?”

  “But I…”

  He raised his hand. “Paid, of course.”

  Riley waited for the manager to step away. “I’ll meet you outside,” she said to Ethan. When the two young women were alone, Riley began, “Brianne. That’s a beautiful name. You know, you’ve been through a lot this morning. Your boss is right, you should try to get some rest. But if you need anything or just want to talk to someone, give her a call.” Riley handed Brianne a business card. “She’s a good listener. She’ll be able to help you—with whatever else you’re dealing with too.” Riley tipped her head with gratitude and walked outside where Ethan waited. She stood next to him as they both gazed out over the parking lot. Most of the townspeople were leaving now that the show was over.

  Ethan eyed her. “You must’ve seen something
in her.”

  “Not much I can do about it. Just offered her an ear—and a shoulder, if she wanted one.” Riley approached the patrol car and opened the door, stepping inside.

  Ethan slid into the passenger seat. “I truly believe you have a gift from God, but all I can say is, I’m glad it’s not me. Pretty sure I couldn’t deal with that.”

  Riley started the engine. “You get used to it.”

  Owensville had a population of about 4,000, which was an increase from the 3,000 it had been when Riley was growing up. Many people left town after the Caterpillar plant closed when she was eight years old. However, times were better now. Jobs were coming back and the town was in the middle of a renaissance of sorts. But all this meant for Riley was that the four officers, the dispatcher, and the captain who ran the department would become increasingly busy. A side-effect of the economic growth.

  Owensville still had miles to go before it could compete with nearby Terra Haute. The station house alone was in need of maintenance. Its interior lacked a certain quality, or rather, any quality. But that didn’t matter much to Riley. She was working for the man who had believed in her, a man who saved her once. And had saved her entire family.

  Captain Daniel Ward was at his desk at the return of half his police force. Riley and Ethan entered his office.

  Ward sat back and removed his reading glasses. “How’d it go?”

  “We got surveillance video, but nothing that showed the suspect’s face,” Ethan began. “But Riley talked to the cashier, a woman named Brianne, who’d been confronted by the robber, and lucky for us, she caught a pretty good glimpse of his car.”

  “Is that right?” Ward turned to Riley. “Plates?”

  She shook her head. “We weren’t that lucky. But we’ll run a search for the vehicle and see what comes up.”

  “Good. Anything else?”

  “Nope.” Riley was quick to answer before Ethan had the chance. “We’ll file the report and start searching for the vehicle.”

  “All right, then. Best get on it.” Ward returned his glasses to his face and continued working.

  As Riley and Ethan stepped back out into the bullpen, Ethan began, “Why didn’t you tell him what you saw in that woman?”

  “Because it has nothing to do with the investigation.”

  “It could. Should she be called to the stand in a trial, her credibility could be at stake.”

  “That’s assuming we catch the thief,” Riley said. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  “Whatever you say.” Ethan returned to his desk.

  The other half of the police force worked the night shift and Riley hadn’t had the opportunity to work with them much, but she liked the guys well enough. A couple of local boys who went to the same school as Riley. It seemed most people born in Owensville around the time she was couldn’t figure out how to leave. Maybe that was what made small towns so great. Everyone knew everyone else. Of course, maybe that was what made small towns not so great. Everyone knew everyone else.

  Riley never regretted her decision to stay. After the tornado, her folks, who had been on the verge of divorce at the time, couldn’t make amends and finally divorced a few years later. She laid some of the blame at her own feet. It had been a tough time. She was just discovering her abilities and they were harder to control—damn near impossible, more like. A lot of things contributed to the end of her parents’ marriage, but that was all water under the bridge now. Especially since her dad, Jack, had remarried and had moved to Indianapolis. His new wife had popped out a couple of kids, meaning Riley had more siblings, aside from her full-blooded brother and sister, not that Jack visited any of them. It lingered in the back of Riley’s mind if those new siblings of hers had the same power she did. After all, it had come from Jack’s father. So far as she knew, only Riley had been the chosen one. Lucky her.

  Ward dashed out of his office. “A body’s turned up at the plant. We need to get down there ASAP.”

  Riley shot up from her chair. “What? They’re still refurbishing it, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, they are. It’s one hell of a mess down there right now. Fortunately, no one’s working today and it was only the project manager who showed up and spotted the body. I’ll explain more in the car. We need to get down there. Pruitt, you mind holding down the fort?”

  “Not at all, Captain, but if you need me…”

  “Gotcha. Let’s head out, Thompson.” Ward pulled open the door and waited for her.

  Ethan watched as the two left and the captain sped out of the parking lot. Yet another thing that rarely happened in Owensville—murder. “What in the world is going on here today?”

  He was used to playing second fiddle to Riley. It was the history she had with Ward. And it was a long one at that. He knew someday he’d get his opportunity. Ward was getting up there and he figured it would be Riley who would take his place sometime in the future. Then he’d be her right-hand man. Didn’t matter that he’d wanted to be more than that. Riley was closed off when it came to relationships. He suspected she knew he had feelings for her. Hell, reading minds was the least of her talents. Given that she’d never acknowledged them left the impression she didn’t feel the same. But maybe someday she would.

  Riley sensed what her captain was feeling the moment the plant came into view. She hadn’t been back since the tornado. Ward had been, but that was for security measures the new owner wanted to put in place as the rebuilding process began. The plant had been purchased by a dog food manufacturer, of all things. Once a thriving plant that turned out heavy-duty earth moving equipment, it would now turn out organic, gluten free, dog food. Maybe she’d buy some for her dog, CJ. He was getting up there in age and could probably benefit from the healthy kibble.

  “You okay?”

  She was pulled back into the moment. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m fine.”

  “Cause I can go in alone, if you’d prefer,” Ward added.

  “No. I’m an officer of the law. Besides, I don’t want this place to hold that kind of power over me any more. It’s about time the two of us reconciled.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear you say that. Better go see what kind of hellacious scene we’ve got in there.” He pulled into the lot where only one other vehicle remained, and that was likely the project manager’s truck.

  Ward cut the engine and began to step out. When he noticed Riley hadn’t moved, he leaned back in. “Riley, it’s time.”

  “Yeah. Right.” She stepped out and peered at the enormous building.

  They began their approach when the manager stepped through the doors and into the light of the late afternoon sun. With his eyes squinted, he offered his hand. “Kilroy Bayliss. People call me Roy. I’m the project manager in charge of this refurb.”

  “Mr. Bayliss—Roy. I’m Captain Dan Ward, and this is Officer Riley Thompson. Why don’t you show us what you found?”

  “It’s a hell of a thing, Captain. Don’t know what’s happening to society these days.” He led the way into the building.

  Riley stepped inside, and a rush of memories surfaced. “Stop,” she whispered.

  “What’s that, Miss?” Bayliss asked.

  “Nothing. Sorry.”

  Ward peered at her, his eyes asking the question she already knew.

  She nodded in return and continued trailing the men. The building hadn’t changed much. The new windows were in the process of being installed. Should help button down the place. But inside, it was just about the same, albeit the machinery that had been left behind and that had turned into deadly projectiles the night of the tornado was now gone too.

  “She’s just over here.” Bayliss walked toward the back of the large shell of a building. “The contractor was using this as a concrete washout.” He pointed to a large plastic tub, like a kiddie pool, but heavier duty and gray. “When I got here, I was just walking around, making note of what’s been done and that’s when I saw her. Weren’t no need to check for a pulse. Looked
like she’d been gone a long time. And of course, all the concrete.”

  Riley was no novice when it came to viewing dead bodies, and it wasn’t because she was a cop. Her eyes fell upon a great many terrible things in her youth; dead bodies were but one.

  “I called you all out just as soon as I saw her. I have to tell you, Captain Ward, I’ve never seen a dead body before and I can’t say as I’d ever want to see one again.”

  “Do you have any idea who this is? Does she work for the company?” Ward asked.

  “I don’t believe so. If she does, I’ve never seen her before. Who would do such a thing?”

  Riley examined the young woman. She looked to be in her late teens, maybe early twenties. Hard to say with the concrete someone had poured into her mouth. As it dried, it expanded and now her face was ripped open in some kind of horrific permanent smile. The rest of her hadn’t fared much better. Her t-shirt was ripped, partially exposing her bra beneath. And she wore a denim mini-skirt, which, considering autumn was here, seemed an odd choice given the chilly weather.

  “You guys got a forensics team or something? Like a CSI?” Bayliss asked.

  “I’m afraid we are the CSI.” Ward turned to Riley. “Let’s start documenting the scene so we can call out the coroner and get her out of here.”

  Riley retrieved her cell phone and began snapping pictures of the girl. Her skin was blue, like she’d been drowned, what skin was left uncovered, anyway. Most of her body was cast in solid concrete. With a gentle touch, Riley placed her fingertips on the girl’s right arm. She’d hoped something would arise in her mind. Something that might reveal who she was and what had happened to her. However, it seemed Riley was too late. The young woman was too far gone and Riley couldn’t see anything inside her except a black void.

 

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