Once Lured

by Blake Pierce

  “It’s about my father, isn’t it?” Riley asked.

  Gwen Bannister spoke quietly, as if she didn’t want to disturb somebody. “He’s in a hospice home here in Moline.”

  “What’s he dying of?” Riley asked.

  As soon as the words were out of Riley’s mouth, she realized they sounded abrupt and callous. There was a pause.

  “He’s in the final stages of lung cancer,” the woman said. “When it spread to the brain he didn’t want us to notify anyone. He also refused radiation therapy. I’m afraid he hasn’t got much time. I’d put him on the phone, but he doesn’t have the strength.”

  Lung cancer, Riley thought. I might have known. She remembered his coughing when she’d last seen him. He’d been paler and thinner too. She’d seen that he was very sick, but she had known that he wouldn’t talk about it.

  “Has he asked to see me?” Riley asked.

  “No.”

  It figures, Riley thought.

  The last time she’d visited her father, they’d actually exchanged physical blows. She’d sworn to herself never to see or talk to him ever again.

  Now was the time to decide once and for all. Even if she left right now, she might not make it to Moline before he died. Was she really going to pay her father one last visit when she was needed both here and at home?

  She remembered his cruel words to her during that last visit.

  “You ought to be grateful, you whiny little bitch.”

  She wasn’t grateful. She had nothing to be grateful for. If she got to her father in time, what could she expect from him except more abuse? Why should she give him the satisfaction of cursing him with his dying breath?

  “I can’t come,” Riley said.

  “Are you sure?” the woman said.

  She didn’t sound surprised. Riley could imagine why. Tending to her father had to be a thankless job.

  “I’m sure,” Riley said.

  “Would you like me to tell him anything for you?”

  “No,” Riley said. “Thanks for calling. Thanks for what you’re doing.”

  “Well, your sister has been very helpful.”

  Riley hesitated. Wendy was there? Helping them at the hospice? She hadn’t talked to her older sister in years, hadn’t even known where she was. For a moment she had an urge to speak with her now. But it had been so long … Riley realized she wouldn’t know what to say.

  “That’s good,” she finally said.

  “Let me give you my number in case you change your mind,” the woman said.

  Riley jotted down the number and ended the call.

  She went to the bathroom and looked at her face in a mirror. It wasn’t a pleasant face to look at, at least not at the moment. She could see a strong resemblance to her father there. She gazed into her own eyes, looking for some hint of guilt or longing, some desire to see her father one last time. She came up empty.

  Still, it didn’t feel right to stay away.

  One more thing to worry about, she thought as she got ready for bed.

  *

  Riley opened the case folder. The first photo that she saw was the horribly emaciated corpse of seventeen-year-old Metta Lunoe. She set it aside. Under it was a photo of the equally wasted corpse of Valerie Bruner.

  She set that photo aside, but it was followed by another gruesome picture, Chelsea McClure. When Riley moved that one aside, she was faced with the awful image of Elise Davey. She hesitated for a moment. Surely that was all. Surely she just had to read the written reports now.

  But instead she found another photo of another dead victim from a past case. She set that aside to find another dead victim, then another, then another …

  Soon she found herself knee-deep in photographs, all of them showing victims of cases she’d worked on.

  She heard a grim chuckle, then a familiar gravelly voice …

  “Sure is a lot of dead people.”

  She looked up and saw her father. He, too, was standing knee-deep in the sea of photographs that stretched out to a distant horizon.

  He didn’t look sick. He looked much as he had when he’d still been strong and healthy. He was tall and gangly, and he wore a hunting cap and a red vest.

  There was a grin on his lined, hard, weathered face.

  “Guess you must be pretty proud of yourself. You sure did right by all these people. You found justice for ’em. Every last one. Doesn’t stop ’em from being dead, though. But that’s you all over, isn’t it? You’re no good for the living. The only folks you’re of any earthly use to are all dead.”

  “What do you know about it?” Riley asked bitterly. “Are you even still alive?”

  Daddy chuckled again.

  “Well, that would be interesting, wouldn’t it?” he said. “It’d give you a chance to do right by the living for a change. You’ll have to hurry, though. That is if it’s not too late already.”

  “I don’t owe you anything.”

  “Oh, no. Nothing much. Just everything you are, and everything you’re ever going to be, both the good and the bad of it. It’ll be too late to thank me later. It’s now or never.”

  Riley felt a familiar anger rising in her throat.

  “You’ll never get a word of thanks from me,” she said.

  Daddy threw back his head and opened his mouth as if to laugh. But instead of laughter, a harsh, ringing sound filled the air …

  Riley shook herself awake and groped for her phone, the dream still fresh and vivid in her brain.

  “There’s another body,” Bill’s voice said. “It’s Nicole Ehrhardt.”

  Riley could still hear traces of her father’s laughter.

  “I’ll be right there,” she said and hung up. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. They had all failed Nicole DeRose Ehrhardt and now her image would join the photos of the dead. And she knew that all hell was going to break loose over this death.

  CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

  Sometimes Riley hated being right. She was looking down at the body, which was laid out in a farm field about ten miles west of Ohlman. It was Nicole DeRose Ehrhardt, sure enough.

  A familiar rumbling sound overhead forced her attention away from the body on the ground. She looked up and saw a helicopter circling overhead. It was a clearly labeled FBI chopper, and its pilot was obviously looking for a place to land.

  Riley looked around at the others who had gathered at the crime scene. Agent Huang was on his phone. Despite the rising noise, she could see his lips say the words, “Yes, sir; yes, sir” over and over again.

  Then Huang approached the group and said loudly enough to be heard, “Special Agent in Charge Walder is joining us.”

  Emily Creighton smiled brightly. Lucy looked worried. Bill shook his head and muttered something inaudible—a curse, Riley was pretty sure.

  The chopper swung away, apparently having spotted a good place to set down nearby. Riley swallowed her dismay and turned her attention back to the dead woman. An ego like Carl Walder’s was the last thing they needed flailing about right now. Maybe she had a few more minutes before Walder got here to gather information.

  Riley took in the whole scene. A nice grassy smell filled the air. The field had been mowed yesterday, and fresh hay bales were stacked in an open shed near the road. Sometime during the night, the murderer had chosen this spot for the placement of the body.

  The property owner had found her this morning and called the police. The area was taped off now, but even though it was barely dawn, a few reporters had already gathered outside the tape. Yesterday Chief Franklin had told Riley, Lucy, and Bill that he’d found and suspended the cop who had been leaking information to the media.

  A lot of good that did, Riley thought.

  The word was already out about the murders, and the damage was done. Reporters were keeping a close watch on FBI activities in the area and following them whenever they could.

  Riley stooped down to examine the victim. Unlike the others, this one look
ed much like her photos. She hadn’t endured weeks of starvation. But she’d been unhealthily thin already—anorexic, no doubt. Her collarbones stood out against her pale skin. The red mark of a whiplash defaced one high cheekbone. Her fashionable raincoat was torn and bloody.

  The body lay in no obvious relationship to the edges of the field or any visible landmark. But like the others, it had not just been dumped. The woman’s arms and legs were carefully arranged. The left arm stretched upward, the legs were straight, the toes pointed. The right arm extended straight out from the shoulder.

  “Nine o’clock,” Riley said.

  “The next hour in the sequence,” Bill added. “What do you think it means?”

  Riley said nothing. She simply didn’t know. But yet again, she had the feeling that whoever was here and had left this body was acting under orders—not altogether alone.

  But Riley didn’t have time to think it over now. The helicopter had landed, and Carl Walder was walking briskly toward them. He was looking straight at her, and his expression was anything but friendly.

  “Agent Paige, I see that you’re still trying to catch up with this case,” he said.

  Riley prickled with irritation.

  Trying to catch up? she thought.

  She gestured toward the body.

  “It wasn’t a kidnapping for ransom,” she told Walder.

  “No, apparently it wasn’t,” Walder replied.

  Without another word, he kneeled down beside the body. He obviously wasn’t going to admit that Riley had been right and he had been wrong. After a cursory look at the body, Walder stood up.

  “Get the coroner,” he said to Huang. “We can’t leave this woman lying out here.”

  Huang looked startled by the order, but he made the call without asking questions. Riley, too, was startled that Walder would shut down the onsite investigation so quickly. They hadn’t even had an evidence team on the site yet. Walder was usually a thorough if unimaginative investigator.

  But Riley reminded herself that the man always had a tendency to fall apart when politically powerful figures were involved. After all, he was a vain man with ambitions of his own. Riley had no idea what those ambitions might be or where they might end.

  Walder yelled, “And somebody get those reporters away from here. Move the tape back.”

  Then he turned to Riley.

  “Agent Paige, I would have preferred to talk to you privately in my office, but under these circumstances, I can’t put this off.”

  He led Riley a short distance off. Bill followed, blatantly ignoring Walder’s attempt at confidentiality.

  “A complaint has been registered about you,” he said.

  Riley rolled her head. “Yeah, I know. The reporter and the camera. Look, the bastard was intruding upon the privacy of a murdered woman.”

  “That’s no excuse for what you did,” Walder said.

  Riley took a deep, long breath.

  “You’re so very right, sir,” she said, trying not to sound sarcastic. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It definitely won’t happen again on this case,” Walder said. “I’m taking you off. Effective immediately.”

  Riley stared at him. She’d been more or less expecting this. Still, she was surprised at his brazenness. Walder was pissed about a lot more than her breaking a reporter’s camera.

  She managed not to smirk. “This is about what I said about you yesterday, isn’t it?”

  Walder’s face reddened.

  “I wasn’t here yesterday. I have no idea what you said.”

  Riley was on the brink of calling him a high-functioning moron all over again. Bill stopped her with a poke of his elbow.

  Riley looked into Walder’s beady eyes. She understood everything now. He was punishing her for two things—for calling him a moron, and for being right about Nicole Ehrhardt’s abduction. Riley wondered which of the two had offended him more.

  “You can’t take her off the case,” Bill told Walder. “Riley’s got a better handle on this case than anybody.”

  Walder sneered.

  “I guess you’re talking about her ‘clock theory,’” he said. “Yeah, I’ve heard about it. So has everybody else, courtesy of the media. You should have kept your mouth shut, Paige. Your theory’s probably wrong, anyway.”

  “Now wait a minute—” Bill began. But Riley silenced him with a gesture. There was no point in explaining to Walder that Riley wasn’t at all responsible for the information leaks. He surely knew that already, and he didn’t care.

  Walder continued, “You will return to BAU and work in your office until further notice. You and I will confer about your future assignments. I’ll be returning by helicopter this afternoon. You can go back with me then.”

  Riley’s voice was shaking with rage as she replied, “Thank you, but I drove my own car here. I’ll drive home.”

  Bill trotted along beside her as she strode away.

  “Riley, let’s talk him out of this,” he said.

  “You know we can’t do that,” Riley said. “You stay, try to keep Walder from screwing things up more than necessary.”

  “I’ll keep in touch,” Bill said.

  Bill fell behind, and Riley plunged among the reporters, shouting “No comment” to every question they asked. When she got past them, she saw the coroner’s wagon approaching along the road.

  Nobody was going to learn much from the crime scene—not with the rush job that Walder was doing. Fortunately, Huang had been taking pictures, and she would make sure that Bill sent them to her.

  As she got into her car and started driving, she thought about her father dying up in the Virginia mountains. Or maybe he was dead already. If so, she felt pretty sure that his spirit was gloating over her humiliation.

  “Go ahead and gloat, you miserable bastard,” she muttered aloud. “I’m not through yet.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  When Riley got home later that day, she sensed that trouble was in store. April hadn’t responded to a single text message or accepted a call since Riley had gone to Delaware. Something was going on, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with it.

  It was late afternoon, and April ought to be home from school by now. But Gabriela met her at the door and Riley could tell from her expression that all wasn’t well.

  “Señora Paige, I wasn’t expecting you,” Gabriela said.

  “I thought I’d be in Delaware a while longer,” Riley said.

  She had stopped at the BAU on her way back to pick up photographs and make sure that she had all the files about the case. Walder wouldn’t approve, of course, but Riley was determined to keep tabs on what was going on.

  “I am glad you are here,” Gabriela said, wringing her hands. “April is being … odd.”

  Riley set her travel bag down.

  “Is she at home?” Riley asked.

  “Not yet,” Gabriela said. “She said she would be at the library, just as she said on Tuesday.”

  Riley could tell that Gabriela didn’t believe the excuse. Riley certainly didn’t either.

  This isn’t good, Riley thought.

  After all, April was supposed to be grounded for two more days.

  The doorbell rang. For a moment, Riley thought it was April, who had forgotten her keys. But when she opened the door, Blaine’s daughter, Crystal, was standing outside. She was gangly like April, and about the same height, but her complexion was paler and freckled. She was carrying a few books.

  “Hi, Ms. Paige, Gabriela,” Crystal said. “Is April at home? I thought maybe we could study together.”

  Riley was happy to see Crystal. She thought that April’s new friend was a good influence. It was nice having Crystal and Blaine right next door.

  “No, she’s not,” Riley said. “In fact, we were just wondering when she’d be back. Would you like to come in?”

  Crystal smiled and came inside. Gabriela offered her some lemonade.

  “I’d love some,” Crystal sai
d.

  Riley and Crystal sat down in the living room, and Gabriela brought lemonade for both of them. Riley noticed that Crystal looked worried.

  “April told Gabriela that she’d be at the library,” Riley said.

  Riley could tell by Crystal’s expression that she didn’t believe this excuse either. Did Crystal know something that she didn’t know? Riley knew better than to pry very hard. She remembered what it was like to have a best friend in high school. Things could go really badly if parents tried to play them against each other.

  “Have you met April’s boyfriend yet?” Crystal asked.

  Riley wondered if Crystal was giving her a hint as to April’s possible whereabouts.

  “No, and I think maybe it’s time I did,” Riley said. After a pause she added, “You said a few days ago that you didn’t like him.”

  Crystal took a hesitant sip of lemonade.

  “Well, what all has April told you about him?” Crystal said. Riley could feel that she was testing the waters.

  Riley shrugged. “Hardly anything. Except he’s about her age.”

  Crystal’s eyes widened. Riley wondered what was wrong.

  “Is he in any of your classes?” Riley asked.

  Crystal just stared at her for a moment.

  “Ms. Paige, if I say anything, do you promise not to tell April I said it?”

  Riley nodded.

  “He’s not April’s age,” Crystal said. “He’s more like seventeen. And he’s not in school. He was a sophomore last year, but he dropped out. I don’t think he flunked out or anything like that, although I think he stayed behind for a year earlier on. Actually, he’s pretty smart. It’s just that …”

  She fell silent again.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Paige,” Crystal said. “You’ll have to ask April about anything else.”

  Riley fought down the urge to ask a flood of questions. The situation certainly sounded serious. But she understood. Crystal had just violated April’s trust. She’d done so with the best intentions, because she was worried about April, but Riley couldn’t expect her to say much more.