Once Hunted

by Blake Pierce

  Yesterday she had put the broken chair and lamp out on the back deck to take care of later. The FBI had taken the fireplace poker that April used for a weapon. No doubt they would run routine DNA tests on the blood found on it, although it really was a moot point. April’s attacker had been Orin Rhodes. He’d been clearly identified from prison photographs.

  When Riley sat down in the living room, it occurred to her that she hadn’t communicated with April all day. There was no reason to worry about her, of course. She was in a safe place under close guard, and Riley would certainly have heard by now if she’d been in any danger. Even so, Riley felt an irrational pang of anxiety.

  She flipped open her laptop computer, hoping it wasn’t too late for a video chat. Riley dialed, and April quickly accepted the call. Riley could tell by her face that she wasn’t in a good mood.

  “Hi, Mom. What’s going on?” April asked.

  Riley saw no point in telling her all that had happened in Upstate New York. And she didn’t want to alarm her any further about Orin Rhodes.

  “I just thought I’d check in,” Riley said. “I hope it’s not too late.”

  “Naw, I couldn’t sleep.”

  Riley could see that April was idly painting her fingernails.

  “How are you doing?” Riley asked.

  April sighed. “I’m bored. This place sucks.”

  “I know it’s no resort,” Riley said. “Just be patient. After this whole thing is over, we’ll go somewhere nice.”

  April yawned. “No, after this is all over you’ll be off on another case. Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”

  Her face perked up a little. “Oh, Dad came by today,” she said.

  Riley was a bit surprised. She wasn’t aware that Ryan knew April’s exact whereabouts. An agent had probably contacted him at April’s request. Riley couldn’t blame April and Ryan for wanting to see each other. But she hoped Ryan had handled his visit discreetly.

  “How’s he doing?” Riley asked.

  “OK, I guess. He’s still upset about what happened. And he agrees with me that this place sucks. He says I shouldn’t be here. He says they should have put me someplace else.”

  Riley felt slightly rankled. It wasn’t Ryan’s decision to make, and she didn’t like him putting ideas into April’s head.

  “You’re staying right there where you’re safe,” Riley said.

  “I know,” April said.

  She yawned again.

  “I’m tired. Maybe I should go to sleep.”

  “You do that,” Riley said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  They ended the chat. Riley got up from the couch and got a glass and a bottle of bourbon from a kitchen cabinet. She went back into the living room and poured herself a drink. She sipped it, and the warm sensation in her throat was welcome. She could feel her inner tension starting to unwind. This was just the thing she needed to relax.

  Maybe I’ll fall asleep right here, she thought.

  She realized that one advantage to having the house all to herself was not having to worry about things like where she slept. Still, she was lonely, and looked forward to having both April and Gabriela home again.

  *

  Snow was swirling around Riley, so thick and blinding that she couldn’t see where she was. She turned around and around, not knowing where to go or what to do.

  Then she saw a shadowy figure some distance off. The person seemed to be running toward her. Maybe it was someone who was coming to help her. Or maybe it was someone who was coming to her for help. She had no idea.

  As the figure came nearer, Riley could make out that it was a teenage girl. The swirling snow cleared a bit, and Riley saw that it was Heidi Wright. She was rushing headlong toward Riley, holding out a gun, aiming it directly at her.

  Riley heard a voice call out sharply—

  “Shoot her! What are you waiting for?”

  —but she couldn’t tell whose voice it was—her father’s or Shane Hatcher’s.

  “I can’t,” Riley said. “It’s just a kid.”

  “Do you want to live?” the voice demanded.

  Then Riley heard a gunshot. It took her a moment to realize it was from her own Glock, the gun that she was holding in her hands. Everything changed. The swirling snow turned red, as if it were raining blood.

  The girl tottered but didn’t fall. Then she wasn’t the girl anymore. She was Riley’s mother, dead on her feet, her chest bleeding from the bullet wound that had killed her when Riley was just six years old, staring at Riley in mute horror.

  “Mommy!” Riley cried out.

  The high pitch of her voice surprised her. Then she realized that she was suddenly only six years old. She wanted to rush toward her mother, but her feet wouldn’t move.

  Then came that male voice again—and this time Riley could tell that it was her father, loud and clear.

  “You’re no good to anybody unless they’re dead.”

  Riley’s eyes snapped open, and she found herself lying on the couch in her living room. Morning sunlight was streaming in through the windows. The house was silent.

  Riley groaned aloud as she remembered the dream. It had been a long time since she’d dreamed about her mother’s death, and she’d spent her whole life trying to forget it. She had only been six when she’d seen her mother gunned down by a thug in a candy store. Even though Riley was just a little girl, her father never really forgave her for not stopping it from happening.

  Whenever she had dreams like this, Riley wondered if she’d ever really forgiven herself.

  She looked at the bottle and the glass on the coffee table. She remembered now that she’d only had a couple of drinks late last night before going to sleep. That was a good thing, considering how she sometimes drank more than she should in times of stress.

  She walked to the kitchen and saw that no coffee was ready.

  Of course not, she thought. Gabriela’s not here.

  She didn’t like the thought of making and eating breakfast in her lonely home right now. She decided to take a shower, get dressed, and get coffee and breakfast at some fast food place.

  She remembered Meredith telling her not to come around to the BAU right away. That was fine with her. There was someplace else she wanted to go.

  *

  When she got to the hospital, Riley was relieved to learn that Blaine was out of the ICU and in a private room. When she found him, he was awake and watching TV. His face was still bandaged on one side. He smiled when he saw her come through the door.

  “Hey, I thought you were off catching bad guys,” he said.

  “I’ll be doing that soon,” Riley said, sitting beside his bed. “And I hope I can catch the bad guy who caused us all so much trouble.”

  “I’d really appreciate that,” Blaine said.

  They were both quiet for a moment. Riley felt a bit awkward. She wanted to hold his hand. But the hospital didn’t feel like quite the right setting for such an intimate gesture, especially since neither one of them seemed to know exactly where their relationship was headed. She looked at him for a moment.

  “How are you doing?” she asked.

  “Pretty good,” Blaine said. “A few aches and pains. They didn’t find anything wrong with me except three broken ribs and a cracked face. I get to go home tomorrow. Crystal wants to come home, too. At least if you think it’s safe.”

  Riley hesitated. She didn’t want to make any false promises. Even so, she felt all but certain that Orin Rhodes had moved on to other prey.

  “I think it’s safe,” she said.

  “Good. Felicia’s been taking good care of her.”

  Riley remembered the attractive woman who’d been at the hospital a couple of nights ago—Blaine’s assistant manager at his restaurant, she’d said. Riley wondered if maybe she had a rival. But now was no time to worry about that.

  “Blaine, I just want to know how grateful I am that you did what you did. You probably saved April
’s life. You could have just called 911, but help wouldn’t have reached her in time. You were very brave.”

  “And stupid?” Blaine said with a smile.

  Riley laughed a little. “Yes, and stupid. But stupid in the best possible way.”

  Blaine surprised her by suddenly taking her hand.

  “There isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you and April,” he said.

  Riley didn’t know what to say. She simply smiled and shared his quiet gaze. She was filled with a warm feeling toward this warm, kindly, attractive man. She more than half-wanted to crawl into the bed and cuddle up beside him.

  She almost laughed at the idea of doing such a thing in a hospital. Now was definitely not the time or place.

  But maybe under different circumstances, she thought.

  Her phone buzzed. She saw that the call was from the BAU.

  “I’ve got to take this,” she told Blaine with a sigh.

  Blaine let go of her hand and patted it gently. Riley got up and stepped out into the hallway.

  When she took the call, she heard Walder’s voice.

  “Agent Paige, grab your bag and get over here,” he said. “You’re flying straight out to South Carolina.”

  “What’s going on?” Riley asked.

  “There’s been a murder. Agents Huang and Creighton will brief you on the plane.”

  Without another word, Walder ended the call.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When the little BAU jet took off, Riley still had no idea what this trip was all about.

  “There’s been a murder,” Walder had told her over the phone. Riley knew nothing more than that.

  She was sitting in the cabin next to Bill. Across a table facing them were Agents Emily Creighton and Craig Huang. Creighton and Huang were young and fairly inexperienced agents who nevertheless were Walder’s favorites. Riley had always felt at odds with Creighton, who fancied herself a much better agent than she actually was. But Huang was starting to grow on Riley, and he was learning well.

  Riley sensed from Creighton’s smug expression that she and Huang and been fully briefed by Walder. No doubt Riley and Bill had deliberately been left out of the loop. It was just one of Walder’s many little ways of expressing his dislike for Riley, and of making her feel unimportant.

  It’s almost working, Riley thought.

  When the plane reached cruising altitude, Creighton opened up her laptop and set it on the table. She displayed a crime scene photograph of a murdered man lying face up in a wooded area. His clothing was dirty and bloodstained. He was fairly mangled by bullets—Riley guessed that that he’d been hit by nearly twenty rounds. One wound was squarely in the middle of his forehead. His eyes were wide open.

  Riley shuddered as she realized that this victim been alive and fully conscious until the very last shot was fired.

  “Kirby Steadman was a retired high school principal who lived in Worland, South Carolina,” Creighton said. “He was killed yesterday morning at Elbow Lake State Park. A park ranger came across the body early in the afternoon.”

  Before Creighton could continue, Riley asked, “How far did he crawl from the shore of the lake?”

  Creighton looked at Riley with surprise.

  “How do you know he crawled from the lake shore?” she asked.

  Riley pointed at the picture. “He’s wearing a fishing vest,” she said. “His pants are soiled at the knees. My guess is he was fishing when he was targeted and got hit with the first round. Then he tried to get away, and his attacker kept shooting him. How far did he get?”

  Riley could tell by Creighton’s displeased look that she’d guessed right. Huang smiled a little.

  “He crawled about thirty feet,” Creighton said.

  “So what makes this a BAU case?” Bill asked.

  “The local cops had no idea what to think of it at first,” Huang explained. “Kirby Steadman had no enemies that anybody knew of. But then someone left a strange message on their call-in line.”

  Huang turned on a small recorder. Riley heard a familiar voice.

  “This is Shane the Chain. The body you just found at Elbow Lake isn’t my handiwork. But Agent Riley Paige at Quantico will be interested. Let her know all about it.”

  Huang clicked off the recorder.

  Creighton said to Riley, “I take it you can confirm whether or not that’s Shane Hatcher’s voice.”

  “It is,” Riley said.

  “And whose ‘handiwork’ do you think this murder is?” Creighton asked.

  Riley remembered those random killings all those years ago in Jennings—the two victims who had been repeatedly, sadistically shot until they were executed.

  “Orin Rhodes,” Riley said.

  Creighton nodded. “Agent Walder thinks so too. And based on the phone message, it seems that Shane Hatcher has also been in that area lately.”

  Then Creighton added with a malicious grin, “And you’ve got about three hours left to catch him.”

  Riley’s face burned with anger. She knew that Creighton was simply repeating Walder’s words. And of course, Walder knew perfectly well that Riley couldn’t possibly meet his forty-eight-hour deadline. She’d be spending about half of the remaining time on the plane. Walder was just setting her up for a sharp reprimand. And he was planning to enjoy it.

  Meanwhile, Creighton was obviously enjoying being in charge. She continued, “We’ll be landing on an airstrip just outside of Worland. We’ll go straight to the crime scene. After that, Agent Paige, you and Agent Jeffreys are under orders to hunt down and apprehend Hatcher.”

  Riley noticed that Bill was starting to look annoyed.

  Bill said, “And what are you two going to do while Agent Paige and I are chasing down Hatcher?”

  “We’re going after Orin Rhodes,” Creighton said.

  Riley was seething now.

  What does Walder think this is, a game?

  She’d tried to tell Walder that Orin Rhodes was the real threat right now, not Hatcher. She and Bill ought to be working together with Creighton and Huang to bring him to justice before he killed again—and he certainly would kill again. They could go after Hatcher when that was done.

  But Walder wasn’t going to allow that. And he had no reason at all except to put Riley in her place. For the time being, he had succeeded.

  Riley listened to the rest of Creighton’s briefing in angry silence. The plane couldn’t land soon enough to suit her.

  *

  About three hours later, Worland’s police chief Lonny York was driving Riley, Bill, Huang, and Creighton through Elbow Lake State Park. Chief York was an enormous bear of a man approaching retirement age. Although the park’s trees were barren this time of year, Riley could see that the forest must look glorious in spring and fall. She saw no snow anywhere.

  As they approached their destination, Riley looked at her watch.

  Time’s up, she thought a bit wryly.

  The deadline for catching Hatcher was passing at that very moment. Riley more than half expected her phone to ring, and for Walder to call and goad her about her failure. But no, she figured Walder would save his gloating for when she got back to Quantico.

  As they neared the lake, Chief York pointed to one of the many cabins they had been passing.

  “That’s where the killer stayed,” he said. “He’d been renting the place since Saturday morning.”

  As York parked the SUV in front of the cabin, Riley considered Rhodes’ timeline. He must have driven here and rented this place shortly after he’d attacked April. He’d apparently spent a leisurely day here, and then killed Kirby Steadman the next morning, just yesterday. Now he was gone and he’d left no clues to his direction.

  The five people got out of the SUV and headed straight toward the cabin, which was wrapped like a boxed gift in yellow police tape. They ducked under the tape and entered the cabin.

  Riley looked around. With its smoky pine aroma, it reminded her of the cabin where her father had lived dur
ing his last years in the mountains of Virginia. The place didn’t evoke pleasant memories, but she knew that it must seem charming to tourists who rented it.

  Riley saw signs of fingerprint powder here and there.

  “Did you find any prints?” she asked York.

  “Yeah, lots of them,” York said. “He made no effort to wipe the place down. Of course, he must have been in kind of a hurry to get out of here. It’s been too soon for us to match the prints to anybody.”

  Riley had no doubt that at least some of the prints would belong to Orin Rhodes. But she wondered if Shane’s prints might show up as well.

  Riley, Bill, Huang, and Creighton looked around for a few moments. There wasn’t much to see. Aside from fingerprints, the cabin’s last occupant seemed to have left nothing behind.

  She noticed several brochures lying on the dresser. They were the usual tourist stuff, advertising things visitors might like to see. But then she took a closer look. Three of them featured South Carolina tourist sites, two beach resorts and this very place, Elbow Lake State Park. The other two were about places in Florida, a historical and ecological preserve at Jacksonville and Everglades National Park down near Miami.

  “Do the cabins always provide this kind of information for visitors?” she asked York.

  “I don’t know,” the chief replied. “But they look pretty ordinary.”

  “They’re probably not important,” she said, but she tucked the brochures into her bag.

  “Come on,” York said. “I’ll show you where Kirby was killed.”

  They all went outside, and Riley followed right behind Chief York as he led the way to the edge of the woods. In a moment, they were walking down a path that led to the lake.

  Behind her, Riley heard Creighton say, “Too bad there’s been no snow lately. We’d be able to trace his movements better.”

  But Riley knew that she’d have little trouble tracing Rhodes’ movements. In fact, she was slipping into his frame of mind already. Of course, he’d walked along this very path on his way to kill his victim. But had he targeted Kirby Steadman already? Did he know that he’d find him here?