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Once Gone
“Yes,” Riley said.
“I’ve got Senator Mitch Newbrough on the line. He wants to speak with you. Could you hold, please?”
Riley felt a jolt of alarm. Of all the people she did not want to hear from, Newbrough was at the top of her list. She had the urge to end the call without another word, but then thought better of it. Newbrough was already a powerful enemy. Making him hate her even more wasn’t a good idea.
“I’ll hold,” Riley said.
A few seconds later, she heard the Senator’s voice.
“Senator Newbrough here. I’m talking to Riley Paige, I assume.”
Riley didn’t know whether to be furious or terrified. He was talking as if she were the one calling him.
“How did you get this number?” she asked.
“I get things when I want them,” Newbrough said in a typically cold voice. “I want to talk to you. In person.”
Riley’s dread mounted. What possible reason could he have for wanting to see her? This couldn’t be good. But how could she say no without making things worse?
“I could drop by your house,” he said. “I know where you live.”
Riley almost asked how he knew her address. But she reminded herself that he’d already answered that question.
“I’d rather we just took care of this right now on the phone,” Riley said.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Newbrough said. “I can’t talk about it on the phone. How soon can you meet me?”
Riley felt herself in the grip of Newbrough’s powerful will. She wanted to refuse, but somehow couldn’t make herself do so.
“I’m out of town right now,” she said. “I won’t be getting home until much later. Tomorrow morning I drive my daughter to school. We could meet in Fredericksburg. Maybe in a coffee shop.”
“No, not a public place,” Newbrough said. “It needs to be somewhere less conspicuous. Reporters tend to follow me around. They get all over me whenever they get a chance. I’d rather stay off their radar. How about Quantico, the BAU headquarters?”
Riley couldn’t keep a note of bitterness out of her voice.
“I don’t work there anymore, remember?” she said. “You should know that better than anybody.”
There came a brief pause.
“Do you know the Magnolia Gardens Country Club?” Newbrough asked.
Riley sighed at the absurdity of the question. She certainly didn’t move in those kinds of circles.
“I can’t say I do,” she said.
“It’s easy to find, about halfway between Quantico and my farm. Be there at ten-thirty a.m.”
Riley liked this less and less. He wasn’t asking, he was giving an order. After wrecking her career, what business did he have demanding anything of her?
“Is that too early?” Newbrough asked when Riley didn’t reply.
“No,” Riley said, “it’s just that – ”
Newbrough interrupted, “Then be there. It’s members only, but I’ll notify them to let you in. You’ll want to do this. You’ll see that it’s important. Trust me.”
Newbrough ended the call without saying goodbye. Riley was flabbergasted.
“Trust me,” he’d said.
Riley might have found it funny if she weren’t so unnerved. Next to Peterson and whatever other killer she was trailing, Newbrough was possibly the person she least trusted in the world. She trusted him even less than she did Carl Walder. And that was really saying something.
But she didn’t appear to have any choice. He had something to tell her, she could feel it. Something, she sensed, that might even lead to the killer.
Chapter 30
Riley neared the Magnolia Gardens Country Club and was stopped at a little white building at the gate. A green and white striped boom barrier blocked the way, and a uniformed security guard holding a clipboard stepped out of the building and walked up to the driver’s side of her car.
Riley opened the window.
“Your name?” the guard said brusquely.
Riley was not at all certain about the protocol needed to get into the club, but Newbrough had said he’d let them know she was coming.
“I’m Riley Paige,” she said. Then she stammered, “I’m a, uh, guest of Senator Newbrough.”
The guard scanned the list, then nodded.
“Go on in,” he said.
The boom gate lifted and Riley drove on through.
The entry lane wound through the namesake gardens, extremely luxurious, colorful, and fragrant this time of year. At last she pulled up at a brick building with white columns. Unlike those on the funeral parlor she’d visited recently, these columns were the real thing. Riley felt as if she’d stumbled upon some sort of nineteenth-century Southern plantation.
A valet hurried up to her car, gave her a card, and took her keys. He drove the car away.
Riley stood alone in front of the grand entrance, feeling as out of her element as she had at the Senator’s home. Dressed in casual jeans, she wondered if she’d even be allowed to enter. Wasn’t there some kind of a dress code in places like this? It was a good thing her jacket draped loosely over her shoulder holster.
A uniformed doorman stepped out to meet her.
“Your name, ma’am?” he asked.
“Riley Paige,” she said, wondering if he’d ask for some sort of identification.
The doorman glanced at his own list. “Right this way, ma’am,” he said.
He escorted her inside, down a long corridor, and to a small, private dining room. She had no idea whether to tip the doorman or not. But then, she had no idea how much the man was paid. Might he make more than she did as an FBI agent? She thought it possible that offering a tip might be more gauche than not tipping him at all. It seemed best not to take chances.
“Thank you,” she said to the man.
He nodded, showing no sign of disappointment, and went back the way they’d come.
The room was small but by far the most posh dining area she’d ever ventured into. There were no windows, but the single painting on the wall was an original oil of the namesake gardens she’s passed outside.
The single table was set with silver, china, crystal, and linen. She chose a plush covered chair that faced the door and sat down. She wanted to see Senator Newbrough when he arrived.
If he arrives, she thought. She had no real reason to think he wouldn’t. But this whole situation seemed so unreal, she didn’t know what to expect.
A white-suited waiter came in and placed a tray with cheeses and a variety of crackers on her table.
“Would you like something to drink, ma’am?” he asked politely.
“Just water, thanks,” Riley said. The waiter went out and within seconds popped back in with a crystal pitcher of water and two matching glasses. He poured water for her and left the pitcher and the other glass on the table.
Riley sipped at her water. She had to admit to herself that she enjoyed the feel of the elegant glass in her hand. She only had to wait a minute or two before the Senator arrived, looking every bit as cold and severe as he had before. He closed the door behind him and sat down on the opposite side of her table.
“I’m glad you came, Agent Paige,” he said. “I’ve brought something for you.”
Without further ceremony, Newbrough placed a thick, leather-bound notebook on the table. Riley stared at it warily. She remembered the list of enemies that Newbrough had given her the first time they’d met. Was this going to be something equally problematic?
“What is this?” she asked.
“My daughter’s diary,” Newbrough said. “I picked it up at her house after she was… found. I took it because I didn’t want anyone to see it. Mind you, I don’t know what’s in it. I’ve never read it. But I’m quite sure it includes things that I’d rather not have become public knowledge.”
Riley didn’t know what to say. She had no idea why he might want her to have this. She could tell that Newbrough was weighing whatever he was about to say next carefully. From the first time she met with him, she’d been sure that he’d been withholding information from her. She tingled with expectancy that he might now tell her what that was.
Finally he said, “My daughter was having trouble with drugs during the last year of her life. Cocaine, heroin, Ecstasy, all kinds of hard stuff. Her husband put her on that route. It was one of the reasons her marriage failed. Her mother and I had been hoping she was pulling out of it when she died.”
Newbrough paused, staring at the diary.
“At first I thought that her death was somehow connected with all that,” he said. “The users and dealers in her circle were an unsavory bunch. I didn’t want it to get out. You understand, I’m sure.”
Riley wasn’t at all sure that she did understand. But she was certainly surprised.
“Drugs had nothing to do with your daughter’s murder,” she said.
“I realize that now,” Newbrough said. “Another woman was found dead, wasn’t she? And doubtless there will be more victims. It appears that I was wrong in thinking this had anything to do with me or my family.”
Riley was stunned. How often did this incredibly egotistical man ever admit that he was wrong about anything?
He patted the diary with his hand.
“Take this with you. It might have some information to help you with your case.”
“It’s not my case anymore, Senator,” Riley said, allowing a trace of her bitterness to emerge. “I think you know that I was fired from the Bureau.”
“Oh, yes,” Newbrough said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “My mistake, I’m afraid. Well, it’s nothing I can’t fix. You’ll be reinstated. Give me a little time with it. Meanwhile, I hope you can make use of this.”
Riley was overwhelmed by the gesture. She took a deep breath.
“Senator, I believe I owe you an apology. I–I wasn’t at my best the last time we met. I’d just been to a friend’s funeral, and I was distraught. I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
Newbrough nodded in silent acceptance of her apology. It was apparent that he wasn’t going to apologize to her, as much as she knew that she deserved it. She had to be content with his admission that he’d made a mistake. At least he was trying to make amends. That mattered more than an apology, anyway.
Riley picked up the diary without opening it.
“There’s just one thing I’d like to know, Senator,” she said. “Why are you giving this to me and not to Agent Walder?”
Newbrough’s lips twisted into a slight semblance of a smile.
“Because there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, Agent Paige,” he said. “You’re nobody’s lapdog.”
Riley couldn’t reply. This sudden respect from a man who otherwise seemed to only have regard for himself simply stunned her.
“And now perhaps you’d like some lunch,” the Senator said.
Riley thought it over. As grateful as she was for Newbrough’s change of heart, she still felt far from comfortable around him. He remained a cold, brittle, and unpleasant man. And besides, she had work to do.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’d better excuse myself,” she said. Indicating the diary, she added, “I need to start making use of this right away. There’s no time to lose. Oh – and I promise not to let anything I find here become public.”
“I appreciate that,” Newbrough said.
He politely rose from his chair as Riley left the room. She exited the building and handed the ticket to the valet. While she waited for him to fetch her car, she opened the diary.
As she flipped through its pages, she saw right away that Reba Frye had written quite a bit about her illicit drug use. Riley also got the immediate impression that Reba Frye was a very self-absorbed woman who seemed to be obsessed with petty resentments and dislikes. But after all, wasn’t that the whole point of a diary? It was a place where one had every right to be self-absorbed.
Besides, Riley thought, even if Reba had been as narcissistic as her father, she certainly didn’t deserve such a terrible fate. Riley felt a chill as she remembered the photos she’d seen of the woman’s corpse.
Riley continued flipping through the diary. Her car pulled up on the gravel driveway, but she ignored the valet, mesmerized. She stood there, hands trembling, and read all the way through to the end, desperate for any mention of the killer, of anything, any clue at all. But she was crestfallen to find none.
She began to lower the heavy book, feeling crushed. She couldn’t stand another dead end.
Just then, as she lowered it, a small piece of paper, tucked between two pages, began to slip out of the book. She caught it and studied it, curious.
As she examined it, her heart suddenly slammed in her chest.
In utter shock, she dropped the diary.
She was holding a receipt.
To a doll store.
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.
* * *
Bill sat in his office staring dumbly at his cell phone. He realized that his hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure why. Anger and frustration? Or was it from fear for Riley, for whatever reckless thing she was about to do?
Her drunken phone call two nights ago had left him confused and devastated. It was something of a cliché that law enforcement partners often felt closer to one another than to their own spouses. And Bill knew that it was true. For a long time, he’d felt closer to Riley than he’d ever felt to anyone in his life.
But there was no room for romance in their line of work. Complications or hesitations on the job could have deadly results. He’d always kept things professional between them and always trusted Riley to do the same. But now she had broken that trust.
Well, she was obviously aware of her mistake. But what had she meant when she said she would be reinstated? Would they work together again? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Was the dynamic and comfortable professional rapport they’d long shared ruined forever?
But he couldn’t worry about all of that now. Riley had asked him to check on the employees of a store. He’d pass that request on, but not to Carl Walder. Bill got on the phone and called the extension for Special Agent Brent Meredith. Meredith wasn’t in the proper chain of command on this case, but Bill knew he could count on him to get the job done.
He planned to keep the call short and efficient. He had to drive to Shellysford right now and he only hoped he could get there before Riley Paige did something really stupid.
Like get herself killed.
Chapter 32
Riley’s heart was pounding in anticipation as she pulled into the little town of Shellysford. Madeline’s Fashions was easy to spot. It was in plain view on the main street, and its name was displayed across the front window. Shellysford was a bit more upscale than she’d expected. Some apparently historic buildings had been kept in good repair, and the main street verged on elegance. The rather chic-looking clothing store fit in well with its prosperous surroundings.
Riley parked at the curb in front of the store, got out of her car, and took in her surroundings. She immediately noticed that one of the store’s window mannequins was actually holding a doll – a princess in a pink dress, wearing a sparkly tiara. The agents combing this town, though, may have easily have taken this as mere window dressing. Only a small sign in the window suggested otherwise: Collectible Dolls Shown By Appointment.
A bell above the door rang as Riley walked inside, and the woman at the counter glanced in her direction. She looked middle-aged but remarkably youthful, and her graying hair was full and healthy.
Riley weighed her options. Without her badge, she had to be careful. True, she’d managed to get other retailers to talk to her without it. But she absolutely did not want to spook this woman.
“Excuse me,” Riley said. “Are you Madeline?”
The woman smiled. “Well, my name is actually Mildred, but I go by Madeline. I like it better. And it sounds better for the name of a store. ‘Mildred’s Fashions’ just wouldn’t have the same ring.” The woman chuckled and winked. “It wouldn’t draw quite the clientele I’m aiming for.”
So far so good, Riley thought. The woman was open and talkative.
“Lovely place,” Riley said, looking around. “But seems like a lot of work for one person. Have you got any help? Surely you don’t do all this by yourself.”
The woman shrugged.
“Mostly I do,” she said. “Sometimes I’ve got a teenage girl who works the register while I help customers. This is a quiet day, though. There was no need for her to come in.”
Still considering the right approach, Riley walked over to a clothing rack and fingered some of the merchandise.
“Beautiful outfits,” she said. “Not many stores carry dresses like these.”
Madeline looked pleased.
“No, you’re not likely to find anything like them elsewhere,” she said. “They’re all high fashion, but I buy them from outlets when styles have been discontinued. So by big city standards, these would be yesterday’s fashion.” Then with another wink and a grin, she added, “But in a little town like Shellysford – well, they might as well be the latest thing.”
Madeline pulled a lavender-colored cocktail dress off the rack.
“You’d look wonderful in this,” she said. “It’s perfect for your coloring – and for your personality too, I suspect.”
Riley didn’t think so. In fact, she couldn’t see herself wearing any of the store’s rather posh outfits. Still, she was sure that this dress would have been more appropriate at the country club than what she was now wearing.
“Actually,” Riley said, “I was hoping to look at some of your dolls.”
Madeline looked slightly surprised.
“Did you make an appointment?” she asked. “If you did, it seems to have slipped my mind. And how did you find out about our doll collection?”
Riley pulled the receipt out of her handbag and showed it to Madeline.
“Someone gave this to me,” Riley said.
“Oh, a referral,” Madeline said, obviously pleased. “Well, I can make an exception, then.”
She walked to the back of the store and opened a wide folding door, and Riley followed her into a small back room. Its shelves were lined with dolls, and a couple of racks standing on the floor were filled with doll accessories.
“I started this little side business a few years back,” Madeline said. “I had the opportunity to buy out the stock of a manufacturer that went out of business. The owner was a cousin of mine, so when they closed down I got a special deal. I’m happy to pass on those savings to my customers.”
Madeline picked up a doll and looked it over proudly.
“Aren’t they lovely?” she said. “Little girls love them. Their parents too. And these dolls are no longer being made, so they’re truly collectibles, even though they’re not antiques. And look at all these costumes. Any of my dolls can wear any of these outfits.”
Riley scanned the rows of dolls. They looked much alike, although their hair color varied. So did their clothes, which included modern dress, princess gowns, and historical outfits. Among the accessories, Riley saw doll furniture to go with each style. The prices of the dolls were all above a hundred dollars.
“I hope you understand why I don’t keep this section open,” Madeline explained. “Most of my walk-in clients aren’t shopping for dolls. And just between you and me,” she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, “many of these smaller items are awfully easy to steal. So I’m careful about who I show all this to.”
Fluffing up a doll’s dress, Madeline asked, “By the way, what is your name? I like to know the names of all my customers.”
“Riley Paige.”
Then Madeline squinted with an inquisitive smile.
“And who was the customer who referred you?” she asked.
“Reba Frye,” Riley said.
Madeline’s face darkened.
“Oh, dear,” she said. “The state senator’s daughter. I remember when she came in. And I heard about…” She fell silent for a moment. “Oh, dear,” she added, shaking her head sadly.
Then she looked at Riley warily.
“Please tell me you’re not a reporter,” she said. “If so, I must ask you to leave. It would be terrible publicity for my store.”
“No, I’m an FBI agent,” Riley said. “And the truth is, I’m here to investigate Reba Frye’s murder. I met with her father, Senator Newbrough, just a little while ago. He gave me this receipt. That’s why I’m here.”
Madeline looked more and more uneasy.
“Would you show me your badge?” she asked.
Riley held back a sigh. She had to bluff her way through this somehow. She had to lie at least a little.
“I’m off duty,” she said. “We don’t carry badges when we’re off duty. It’s standard procedure. I just came here on my own time to find out whatever I could.”
Madeline nodded sympathetically. She seemed to believe her – or at least not to disbelieve her. Riley tried not to show her relief.
“What can I do to help?” Madeline asked.
“Just tell me anything you can about that day. Who else came in to work? How many customers came in?”
Madeline held out her hand. “May I see the receipt? For the date, I mean.”
Riley handed her the receipt.
“Oh, yes, I remember,” Madeline said as she looked at it. “That was a crazy day, several weeks ago.”
Riley’s attention quickened.
“Crazy?” Riley asked. “How so?”
Madeline knitted her brow as she recollected.
“A collector came in,” she said. “He bought twenty dolls at once. I was surprised that he had the money. He didn’t look all that rich. He was just a rather sad-looking older man. I gave him a special price. Things were really a mess while my girl and I rang up all that merchandise. We’re not used to that kind of business. Everything was in turmoil for a little while there.”
Riley’s mind clicked away, putting this information together.
“Was Reba Frye in the store at the same time as this collector?” she asked.
Madeline nodded. “Why yes,” she said. “Now that you mention it, she was here right then.”
“Do you keep a record of your customers?” Riley asked. “With contact information?”
“Yes, I do,” Madeline said.
“I need to see the man’s name and address,” Riley said. “It’s very important.”
Madeline’s expression grew more wary.
“You said the Senator gave you this receipt?” she asked.
“How else could I have gotten it?” Riley asked.
Madeline nodded. “I’m sure that’s true, but still…”
She paused, struggling with her decision.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she blurted, “but I can’t do it – let you look at the records, I mean. You don’t even have any identification, and my customers deserve their privacy. No, really, Senator or no Senator, I can’t let you look at it without a warrant. I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t seem right to me. I hope you understand.”
Riley took a long breath as she tried to assess the situation. She didn’t doubt that Bill would show up here as soon as he could. But how soon would that be? And would the woman still insist on seeing a warrant? How much more time might that involve? For all Riley knew, someone’s life might be hanging in the balance right that very minute.
“I understand,” Riley said. “But is it okay if I just look around here a bit? I might find some clues.”
Madeline nodded. “Of course,” she said. “Take as long as you like.”
A distraction tactic quickly took shape in Riley’s mind. She began to browse among the dolls while Madeline tidied up some of the accessories. Riley reached up onto a high shelf as if trying to fetch down a doll. Instead, she managed to knock a whole row of dolls off the shelf.
“Oh!” Riley said. “I’m so sorry!”
She backed away in the clumsiest manner she could muster. She collided with a rack of accessories and knocked them all over.
“Oh, I’m so, so sorry!” Riley said again.
“It’s all right,” Madeline said with more than a note of irritation. “Just – just let me take care of it.”
Madeline started to pick up the scattered merchandise. Riley hastily left the room and headed for the front desk. Glancing to make sure that Madeline wasn’t watching her, Riley dived behind the desk. She quickly spotted a ledger book on a shelf under the cash register.
Her fingers shaking, Riley thumbed through the ledger. She quickly found the date, the name of the man, and his address. She didn’t have time to write it down, so she committed it to memory.
She had just stepped out from behind the counter when Madeline returned from the back room. Madeline looked genuinely suspicious now.
“You’d really better leave,” she said. “If you come back with a warrant, I’ll be able to help. I certainly want to help the Senator and his family in any way I can. I feel terrible about all they’re going through. But right now – well, I think you should leave.”
Riley made a beeline toward the front door.
“I–I understand,” she stammered. “I’m terribly sorry.”
She rushed to her car and got in. She took out her cell phone and called Bill’s number.
“Bill, I’ve got a name!” she almost shouted when he answered. “His name is Gerald Cosgrove. And I’ve got his address.”
Remembering carefully, Riley recited the address to Bill.
“I’m only a few minutes away,” Bill said. “I’ll call in his name and address, see what kind of information the Bureau can turn up. I’ll get back to you right away.”
Bill ended the phone call. Riley fidgeted, waiting impatiently. She looked back at the store and noticed that Madeline was standing near the window, looking out at her suspiciously. Riley couldn’t blame Madeline for her mistrust. Her behavior just now had been more than a little odd.
Riley’s cell phone buzzed. She answered it.
“Bingo,” Bill said. “The guy’s a registered sex offender. The address you gave me isn’t far. You’re maybe a little closer to him than I am.”
“I’m driving there right now,” Riley said, stepping on the gas.
“For Christ’s sake, Riley, don’t go in there alone!” he barked back. “Wait for me outside. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Do you hear me?”
Riley ended the call and drove away. No, she could not wait.
* * *
Less than fifteen minutes later, Riley pulled up to a dusty, isolated lot. A shabby-looking mobile home sat in the middle of it. Riley parked her car and got out.
