Блейк Пирс
Once Craved

Chapter Six

Riley fidgeted in her chair as she tried to think of what she wanted to tell Mike Nevins. She felt unsettled and edgy.

“Take your time,” the forensic psychiatrist said, craning forward in his office chair and gazing at her with concern.

Riley chuckled ruefully. “That’s the trouble,” she said. “I don’t have time. I’ve been dragging my feet. I’ve got a decision to make. I’ve put it off too long already. Have you ever known me to be this indecisive?”

Mike didn’t reply. He just smiled and pressed his fingertips together.

Riley was used to this kind of silence from Mike. The dapper, rather fussy man had been many things to her over the years – a friend, a therapist, even at times a sort of mentor. These days she usually called on him to get his insight into the dark mind of a criminal. But this visit was different. She had called him last night after getting home from the execution, and had driven to his DC office this morning.

“So what are your choices, exactly?” he finally asked.

“Well, I guess I’ve got to decide what I’m going to do with the rest of my life – teach or be a field agent. Or figure out something else entirely.”

Mike laughed a little. “Hold on a minute. Let’s not try to plan your whole future today. Let’s stick to right now. Meredith and Jeffreys want you to take a case. Just one case. It’s not either/or. Nobody says you’ve got to give up teaching. And all you’ve got to do is say yes or no this once. So what’s the problem?”

It was Riley’s turn to fall silent. She didn’t know what the problem was. That was why she was here.

“I take it you’re scared of something,” Mike said.

Riley gulped hard. That was it. She was scared. She’d been refusing to admit it, even to herself. But now Mike was going to make her talk about it.

“So what are you scared of?” Mike asked. “You said you were having some nightmares.”

Riley still said nothing.

“This has to be part of your PTSD problem,” Mike said. “Do you still have the flashbacks?”

Riley had been expecting the question. After all, Mike had done more than anybody to get her through the trauma of an especially horrible experience.

She leaned her head back on the chair and closed her eyes. For a moment she was in Peterson’s dark cage again, and he was threatening her with a propane flame. For months after Peterson had held her captive, that memory had constantly forced its way into her mind.

But then she had tracked down Peterson and killed him herself. In fact, she had beaten him to a lifeless pulp.

If that’s not closure, I don’t know what is, she thought.

Now the memories seemed impersonal, as though she was watching someone else’s story unfold.

“I’m better,” Riley said. “They’re shorter and much less often.”

“How about your daughter?”

The question cut Riley like a knife. She felt an echo of the horror she’d experienced when Peterson had taken April captive. She could still hear April’s cries for help ringing through her brain.

“I guess I’m not over that,” she said. “I wake up afraid that she’s been taken again. I have to go to her bedroom and make sure that she’s there and she’s all right and sleeping.”

“Is that why you don’t want to take another case?”

Riley shuddered deeply. “I don’t want to put her through anything like that again.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“No, I don’t suppose it does,” Riley said.

Another silence fell.

“I’ve got a feeling there’s something more,” Mike said. “What else gives you nightmares? What else wakes you up at night?”

With a jolt, a lurking terror surfaced in her mind.

Yes, there was something more.

Even with her eyes wide open, she could see his face – Eugene Fisk’s babyish, grotesquely innocent-looking face with its small, beady eyes. Riley had looked deeply into those eyes during their fatal confrontation.

The killer had held Lucy Vargas with a razor at her throat. At that moment, Riley probed her most terrible fears. She’d talked about the chains – those chains that he believed were talking to him, forcing him to commit murder after murder, chaining up women and slitting their throats.

“The chains don’t want you to take this woman,” Riley had told him. “She isn’t what they need. You know what the chains want you to do instead.”

His eyes glistening with tears, he’d nodded in agreement. Then he’d inflicted the same death upon himself that he had inflicted upon his victims.

He slit his own throat right before Riley’s eyes.

And now, sitting here in Mike Nevins’s office, Riley almost choked on her own horror.

“I killed Eugene,” she said with a gasp.

“The chain killer, you mean. Well, he wasn’t the first man you killed.”

It was true – she’d used deadly force a number of times. But with Eugene, it had been very different. She’d thought about his death quite often, but she’d never talked to anybody about it before now.

“I didn’t use a gun, or a rock, or my fists,” she said. “I killed him with understanding, with empathy. My own mind is a deadly weapon. I’d never known that before. It terrifies me, Mike.”

Mike nodded sympathetically. “You know what Nietzsche said about looking too long into an abyss,” he said.

“The abyss also looks into you,” Riley said, finishing the familiar saying. “But I’ve done a lot more than look into an abyss. I’ve practically lived there. I’ve almost gotten comfortable there. It’s like a second home. It scares me to death, Mike. One of these days I might go into that abyss and never come back out. And who knows who I might hurt – or kill.”

“Well, then,” Mike said, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe we’re getting somewhere.”

Riley wasn’t so sure. And she didn’t feel any closer to making a decision.

*

When Riley walked through her front door a while later, April came galloping down the stairs to meet her.

“Oh, Mom, you’ve got to help me! Come on!”

Riley followed April up the stairs to her bedroom. An open suitcase was open on her bed and clothes were scattered all around it.

“I don’t know what to pack!” April said. “I’ve never had to do this before!”

Smiling at her daughter’s mixed panic and exhilaration, Riley set right to work helping her get her things together. April was leaving tomorrow morning on a school field trip – a week in nearby Washington, DC. She’d be going with a group of advanced American History students and their teachers.

When Riley had signed the forms and paid the extra fees for the trip, she’d had some qualms about it. Peterson had held April captive in Washington, and although that had been far off on the edge of the city, Riley worried that the trip might dredge up the trauma. But April seemed to be doing extremely well both academically and emotionally. And the trip was a wonderful opportunity.

As she and April teased each other lightheartedly about what to pack, Riley realized that she was having fun. That abyss that she and Mike had talked about a little while ago seemed far away. She still had a life outside of that abyss. It was a good life, and whatever she decided to do, she was determined to keep it.

While they were sorting things, Gabriela stepped into the room.

“Señora Riley, my cab will be here pronto, any minute,” she said, smiling. “I’m packed and ready. My things are at the door.”

Riley had almost forgotten that Gabriela was leaving. Since April was going to be away, Gabriela had asked for time off to visit relatives in Tennessee. Riley had cheerfully agreed.

Riley hugged Gabriela and said, “Buen viaje.”

Gabriela’s smile fading a little, she added, “Me preocupo.”

“You’re worried?” Riley asked in surprise. “What are you worried about, Gabriela?”

“You,” Gabriela said. “You will be all alone in this new house.”

Riley laughed a little. “Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

“But you have not been sola since so many bad things have happened,” Gabriela said. “I worry.”

Gabriela’s words gave Riley a slight turn. What she was saying was true. Ever since the ordeal with Peterson, at least April had always been around. Could a dark and frightening void open up in her new home? Was the abyss yawning even now?

“I’ll be fine,” Riley said. “Go have a good time with your family.”

Gabriela grinned and handed Riley an envelope. “This was in the mailbox,” she said.

Gabriela hugged April, then hugged Riley again, and went downstairs to wait for her cab.

“What is it, Mom?” April asked.

“I don’t know,” Riley said. “It wasn’t mailed.”

She tore the envelope open and found a plastic card inside. Decorative letters on the card proclaimed “Blaine’s Grill.” Below that she read aloud, “Dinner for two.”

“I guess it’s a gift card from our neighbor,” Riley said. “That’s nice of him. You and I can go there for dinner when we get back.”

“Mom!” April snorted. “He doesn’t mean you and me.”

“Why not?”

“He’s inviting you out to dinner.”

“Oh! Do you really think so? It doesn’t say that here.”

April shook her head. “Don’t be stupid. The man wants to date you. Crystal told me her dad likes you. And he’s really cute.”

Riley could feel her face flushing red. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had asked her on a date. She had been married to Ryan for so many years. Since their divorce she had been focused on getting settled in her new home and decisions to be made about her job.

“You’re blushing, Mom,” April said.

“Let’s get your stuff packed,” Riley grumbled. “I’ll have to think about all this later.”

They both went back to sorting through clothes. After a few minutes of silence, April said, “I’m kind of worried about you, Mom. Like Gabriela said …”

“I’ll be fine,” Riley said.

“Will you?”

Folding a blouse, Riley wasn’t sure what to answer. Surely she’d recently faced worse nightmares than an empty house – murderous psychopaths obsessed with chains, dolls, and blowtorches among them. But might a host of inner demons break loose when she was alone? Suddenly, a week began to feel like a long time. And the prospect of deciding whether or not to date the man who lived next door seemed scary in its own way.

I’ll handle it, Riley thought.

Besides, she still had another option. And it was about time to make a decision once and for all.

“I’ve been asked to work on a case,” Riley told April. “I’d have to go to Arizona right away.”

April stopped folding her clothes and looked at Riley.

“So you’re going to go, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I don’t know, April,” Riley said.

“What’s there to know? It’s your job, right?”

Riley looked into her daughter’s eyes. The hard times between them really did seem to be over. Ever since they’d both survived the horrors inflicted by Peterson, they’d been linked by a new bond.

“I’ve been thinking about not going back to field work,” Riley said.

April’s eyes widened with surprise.

“What? Mom, taking down bad guys is what you do best.”

“I’m good at teaching, too,” Riley said. “I’m very good at it. And I love it. I really do.”

April shrugged with incomprehension. “Well, go ahead and teach. Nobody’s stopping you. But don’t stop kicking ass. That’s just as important.”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t know, April. After all I put you through – ”

April looked and sounded incredulous. “After all you put me through? What are you talking about? You didn’t put me through anything. I got caught by a psychopath named Peterson. If he hadn’t taken me, he’d have taken someone else. Don’t you start blaming yourself.”

After a pause, April said, “Sit down, Mom. We’ve got to talk.”

Riley smiled and sat down on the bed. April was sounding just like a mother herself.

Maybe a little parental lecture is just what I need, Riley thought.

April sat down next to Riley.

“Did I ever tell you about my friend Angie Fletcher?” April said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, we used to be tight for a while but she changed schools. She was really smart, just one year ahead of me, fifteen years old. I heard that she started buying drugs from this guy everybody called Trip. She got really, really into heroin. And when she ran out of money, Trip put her to work as a hooker. Trained her personally, made her move in with him. Her mom’s so screwed up, she barely noticed Angie was gone. Trip even advertised her on his website, made her get a tattoo swearing she was his forever.”

Riley was shocked. “What happened to her?”

“Well, Trip eventually got busted, and Angie wound up in a drug rehab center. That was just this summer while we were in Upstate New York. I don’t know what happened to her after that. All I know is that she’s just sixteen now and her life is ruined.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Riley said.

April groaned with impatience.

“You really don’t get it, do you, Mom? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You’ve spent your whole life stopping this kind of thing. And you’ve put away all kinds of guys like Trip – some of them forever. But if you stop doing what you do best, who’s going to take over for you? Somebody as good at it as you? I doubt it, Mom. I really doubt it.”

Riley fell silent for a moment. Then with a smile, she squeezed April’s hand tightly.

“I think I’ve got a phone call to make,” she said.

Chapter Seven

As the FBI jet lifted off from Quantico, Riley felt sure that she was on her way to face yet another monster. She was deeply uneasy at the thought. She had been hoping to stay away from killers for a while, but taking this job had finally seemed like the right thing to do. Meredith had been clearly relieved when she’d said she would go.

That morning, April had left on her field trip, and now Riley and Bill were on their way to Phoenix. Outside the airplane window the afternoon had turned dark, and rain streaked across the glass. Riley stayed strapped into her seat until the plane had made its way through rough-and-tumble gray clouds and into clearer air above. Then a cushiony surface spread out beneath them, hiding the earth where people were probably scurrying about to stay dry. And, Riley thought, going about their everyday pleasures or horrors or whatever lay in between.

As soon as the ride smoothed out, Riley turned to Bill and asked, “What have you got to show me?”

Bill flipped open his laptop on the table in front of them. He brought up a photo of a large black garbage bag barely submerged in shallow water. A dead white hand could be seen poking out of the bag’s opening.

Bill explained, “The body of Nancy Holbrook was found in an artificial lake in the reservoir system outside of Phoenix. She was a thirty-year-old escort with an expensive service. In other words, a pricey prostitute.”

“Did she drown?” Riley asked.

“No. Asphyxiation seems to have been the cause of death. Then she was stuffed into a heavy-duty garbage bag and dumped into the lake. The garbage bag was weighted with large rocks.”

Riley studied the photo closely. A lot of questions were already forming in her mind.

“Did the killer leave any physical evidence?” she asked. “Prints, fibers, DNA?”

“Not a thing.”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t get it. The disposal of the body, I mean. Why didn’t the killer go to just a little more trouble? A freshwater lake is perfect for getting rid of a body. Corpses sink and decompose fast in fresh water. Sure, they might resurface later on because of bloating and gases. But enough rocks in the bag would solve that problem. Why leave her in shallow water?”

“I guess it’s up to us to figure that out,” Bill said.

Bill brought up several other photos of the crime scene, but they didn’t tell Riley much.

“So what do you think?” she said. “Are we dealing with a serial or aren’t we?”

Bill’s knitted his brow in thought.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Really, we’re just looking at a single murdered prostitute. Sure, other prostitutes have disappeared in Phoenix. But that’s nothing new. That happens routinely in every major city in the country.”

The word “routinely” struck an uncomfortable chord with Riley. How could the ongoing disappearance of a certain class of women be considered “routine”? Still, she knew that what Bill was saying was true.

“When Meredith phoned, he made it sound urgent,” she said. “And now he’s even giving us the VIP treatment, flying us directly there on a BAU jet.” She thought back for a moment. “His exact words were that his friend wanted us to look into it as the work of a serial killer. But you sound like nobody’s sure it is a serial.”

Bill shrugged. “It might not be. But Meredith seems to be really close to Nancy Holbrook’s brother, Garrett Holbrook.”

“Yeah,” Riley said. “He told me they went to the academy together. But this whole thing is unusual.”

Bill didn’t argue. Riley leaned back in her seat and considered the situation. It seemed pretty obvious that Meredith was bending FBI rules as a favor to a friend. That wasn’t typical of Meredith at all.

But this didn’t make her think any less of her boss. Actually, she really admired his devotion to his friend. She wondered …

Is there anybody I’d bend the rules for? Bill, maybe?

He’d been more than a partner over the years, and more than even a friend. Even so, Riley wasn’t sure. And that made her wonder – just how close did she feel to any of her coworkers these days, including Bill?

But there didn’t seem much point in thinking about it now. Riley closed her eyes and went to sleep.

*

It was a bright sunny day when they landed in Phoenix.

As they got off the jet, Bill nudged her and said, “Wow, great weather. Maybe at least we’ll get a little vacation out of this trip.”

Somehow, Riley doubted that it was going to be a lot of fun. It had been a long time since she’d taken a real vacation. Her last attempt at an outing in New York with April had been cut short by the usual murder and mayhem that was such a big part of her life.

One of these days, I need to get some real rest, she thought.

A young local agent met them at the plane and drove them to the Phoenix FBI field office, a striking new modern building. As he pulled the car into the Bureau parking lot, he commented, “Cool design, isn’t it? Even won some kind of award. Can you guess what it’s supposed to look like?”

Riley looked over the facade. It was all straight, long rectangles and narrow vertical windows. Everything was carefully placed and the pattern seemed familiar. She stopped and stared at it for a moment.

“DNA sequencing?” she asked.

“Yep,” the agent said. “But I’ll bet you can’t guess what the rock maze over there looks like from above.”

But they walked into the building before Riley or Bill could hazard a guess. Inside, Riley saw the DNA motif repeated in the sharply patterned floor tiles. The agent led them among severe-looking horizontal walls and partitions until they reached the office of Special Agent in Charge Elgin Morley, then left them there.

Riley and Bill introduced themselves to Morley, a small, bookish man in his fifties with a thick black mustache and round glasses. Another man was awaiting them in the office. He was in his forties, tall, gaunt, and slightly hunched. Riley thought he looked tired and depressed.

Morley said, “Agents Paige and Jeffreys, I’d like you to meet Agent Garrett Holbrook. His sister was the victim who was found in Nimbo Lake.”

Hands were shaken all around, and the four agents sat down to talk.

“Thank you for coming,” Holbrook said. “This whole thing has been pretty overwhelming.”

“Tell us about your sister,” Riley said.

“I can’t tell you much,” Holbrook said. “I can’t say I knew her very well. She was my half-sister. My dad was a philandering jerk, left my mom and had children with three different women. Nancy was fifteen years younger than me. We barely had contact over the years.”

He stared blankly at the floor for a moment, his fingers picking absent-mindedly at the arm of his chair. Then without looking up he said, “The last I heard from her, she was doing office work and taking classes at a community college. That was a few years ago. I was shocked to find out what had become of her. I had no idea.”

Then he fell silent. Riley thought he looked like he was leaving something unsaid, but she told herself that maybe that was really all the man knew. After all, what could Riley say about her own older sister if anyone asked her? She and Wendy had been out of contact for so long that they might as well not be sisters at all.

Even so, she sensed something more than grief in Holbrook’s demeanor. It struck her as odd.

Morley suggested that Riley and Bill go with him to Forensic Pathology, where they could take a look at the body. Holbrook nodded and said that he’d be in his office.

As they followed the Agent in Charge down the hall, Bill asked, “Agent Morley, what reason is there for thinking we’re dealing with a serial killer?”

Morley shook his head. “I’m not sure we’ve got much of a reason,” he said. “But when Garrett found out about Nancy’s death, he refused to leave it alone. He’s one of our best agents, and I’ve tried to accommodate him. He tried to get his own investigation underway, but didn’t get anywhere. The truth is, he hasn’t been himself this whole while.”

Riley had certainly noticed that Garrett seemed to be terribly unsettled. Perhaps a little more so than a seasoned agent would usually be, even over a relative’s death. He’d made it clear that they weren’t close.

Morley led Riley and Bill into the building’s Forensic Pathology area, where he introduced them to its team chief, Dr. Rachel Fowler. The pathologist pulled open the refrigerated unit where Nancy Holbrook’s body was being kept.

Riley winced a little at the familiar odor of decomposition, even though the smell hadn’t gotten very strong yet. She saw that the woman had been short of stature and very thin.

“She hadn’t been in the water long,” Fowler said. “The skin was just beginning to wrinkle when she was found.”

Dr. Fowler pointed to her wrists.

“You can see rope burns. It looks like she was bound when she was killed.”

Riley noticed raised marks on the crook of the corpse’s arm.

“These look like track marks,” Riley said.

“Right. She was using heroin. My guess was that she was slipping into serious addiction.”

It looked to Riley like the woman had been anorexic, and that seemed consistent with Fowler’s addiction theory.

“That kind of addiction seems out of place for a high-class escort,” Bill said. “How do we know that’s what she was?”

Fowler produced a laminated business card in a plastic evidence bag. It had a provocative photo of the dead woman on it. The name on the card was simply “Nanette,” and the business was called “Ishtar Escorts.”

“This card was on her when she was found,” Fowler explained. “The police got in touch with Ishtar Escorts and found out her real name, and that soon led to identifying her as Agent Holbrook’s half-sister.”

“Any idea how she was asphyxiated?” Riley asked.

“There’s some bruising around her neck,” Fowler said. “The killer might have held a plastic bag over her head.”

Riley looked closely at the marks. Was this some kind of a sex game gone wrong, or a deliberate act of murder? She couldn’t yet tell.

“What did she have on when she was found?” Riley asked.

Fowler opened up a box that contained the victim’s clothing. She had been wearing a pink dress with a low neckline – barely respectable, Riley observed, but definitely a notch above a streetwalker’s typical trashy attire. It was the dress of a woman who wanted to look both very sexy and suitably attired for nightclubs.

Nestled on top of the dress was a clear plastic bag of jewelry.

“May I have a look?” Riley asked Fowler.

“Go right ahead.”

Riley took out the bag and looked at the contents. Most of it was fairly tasteful costume jewelry – a beaded necklace and bracelets and simple earrings. But one item stood out among the rest. It was a slender gold ring with a diamond setting. She picked it up and showed it to Bill.

“Real?” Bill asked.

“Yes,” Fowler replied. “Real gold and a real diamond.”

“The killer didn’t bother to steal it,” Bill commented. “So this wasn’t about money.”

Riley turned to Morley. “I’d like to see where the body was found,” she said. “Right now, while it’s still light.”

Morley looked a bit puzzled.

“We can get you there by helicopter,” he said. “But I don’t know what you expect to find. Cops and agents have been all over the site.”

“Trust her,” Bill said knowingly. “She’ll find out something.”