by Blake Pierce
Chapter 31
There it was. After all the dead ends, Riley could barely believe what she was holding. At the top of the handwritten receipt was the name and address of the store: Madeline’s Fashions in Shellysford, Virginia.
Riley was stumped. It didn’t sound like a doll or toy store.
On her cell phone she found the website for Madeline’s Fashions. It was, oddly, a women’s clothing shop.
But she looked closer and saw that they also dealt in collectible dolls. They could only be viewed by appointment.
A chill ran up Riley’s spine.
This has got to be the place, she thought.
She picked up the diary and with shaking hands, flipped through the pages to find the entry for the date on the receipt. There it was:
Just bought the perfect little doll for Debbie. Her birthday’s not for a month, but she’s so hard to shop for.
There it was, in plain English. Reba Frye had bought a doll for her daughter at a store in Shellysford. Riley felt certain that all the other victims had bought dolls there, too. And that that was where the murderer had first spotted them.
Riley pulled up a map on her phone, and it showed Shellysford a hour’s drive away. She had to get there as soon as she possibly could. For all she knew, the murderer had already spotted another victim.
But she needed to get some information in the works. And she needed to make a painful phone call that she’d put off too long already.
She took her keys from the baffled valet, jumped in her car, and pulled out, her tires screeching on the club’s manicured drive. As she sped past the gate, she punched in Bill’s cell phone number, wondering if he’d bother to answer. She couldn’t blame him if he never wanted to speak to her again.
To her relief, Bill’s voice came over the phone.
“Hello,” he said.
Riley’s heart jumped. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified to hear his voice.
“Bill, this is Riley,” she said.
“I know who this is,” Bill replied.
A silence fell. This wasn’t going to be easy. And she knew she didn’t deserve for it to be easy.
“Bill, I don’t know how to start,” she said. Her throat swelled with emotion and she found it hard to speak. “I’m so, so terribly sorry. It’s just that—well, everything had gotten so bad, and I just wasn’t in my right mind, and—”
“And you were drunk,” Bill said, interrupting.
Riley sighed miserably.
“Yes, I was drunk,” she said. “And I apologize. I hope you can forgive me. I’m so sorry.”
Another silence came.
“Okay,” Bill finally said.
Riley’s heart sank. She knew Bill better than she knew anybody else in the world. So she could hear a world of meaning in those two blunt syllables. He wasn’t forgiving her, and he wasn’t even accepting her apology—at least not yet. All he was doing was acknowledging that she had apologized.
Anyway, now was no time to be hashing it out. There was a far more urgent matter to take care of.
“Bill, I’ve got a lead,” she said.
“What?” he asked in a stunned voice.
“I found the store.”
Bill sounded worried now.
“Riley, are you out of your mind? What are you doing, still working this case? Walder fired you, for God’s sake.”
“Since when have I ever waited for permission? Anyway, it looks like I’m going to be reinstated.”
Bill snorted with disbelief.
“Who says?”
“Newbrough.”
“What are you talking about?” Bill asked, sounding more and more agitated. “Christ, Riley, you didn’t go to his house again, did you?”
Riley thoughts became jangled. There was too much to explain. She had to stick to the basics.
“No, and he was different this time,” she said. “It was weird, and I can’t get into it right now. But Newbrough gave me some new information. Bill, Reba Frye bought a doll at a store in Shellysford. I’ve got proof. I’ve got the name of the store.”
“That’s crazy,” Bill said. “We’ve had agents scouring that whole area. They’ve been to every town out there. I don’t think they even found a doll store in Shellysford.”
Riley was finding it harder and harder to contain her own excitement.
“That’s because there isn’t one,” she said. “It’s a clothing store that sells dolls, but you can only see them by appointment. Madeline’s Fashions, it’s called. Are you at the BAU right now?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then get somebody checking into the place. Get whatever you can on everybody who’s ever worked there. I’m going there right now.”
Bill’s voice was loud and frantic.
“Riley, don’t! You’ve got no authorization. You don’t even have a badge. And what if you find the guy? He’s liable to be dangerous. And Walder took your gun.”
“I’ve got my own gun,” Riley said.
“But you won’t be able to detain anybody.”
With a growl of determination, Riley said, “I’ll do whatever I have to do. Another life might be at stake.”
“I don’t like this,” Bill said, sounding more resigned now.
Riley ended the phone call and stepped on the gas.
