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Once Dormant

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Once Dormant

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CHAPTER THREE

Riley felt a bit breathless now. A whole world of future possibilities seemed to be opening up in front of her, and she didn’t have any idea how to think about them.

She didn’t know what to say, so she just picked up her glass of wine and followed Blaine off the porch into the dining room.

Blaine went to a cabinet and took out a large roll of paper. When they’d arrived, Riley had noticed him unpacking the roll from the car along with beach stuff, but she hadn’t bothered to ask him what it was.

He unrolled the sheet on the dining room table, putting cups on the corners to hold it down. It looked like some kind of elaborate ground plan.

“What is this?” Riley asked.

“Don’t you recognize it?” Blaine said. “It’s my house.”

Riley looked at the drawings more carefully, feeling slightly puzzled.

She said, “Um … it looks awfully big to be your house.”

Blaine chuckled and said, “That’s because a whole wing of it hasn’t been built yet.”

Riley felt positively dizzy as Blaine began to explain the drawings. He showed how the new wing would include bedrooms for April and Jilly. And of course there would be an entire apartment for Gabriela, Riley’s live-in housekeeper, who could work for them all once everything was built. The new design even included a small office for Riley. She hadn’t had a home office since Jilly had moved in and they’d needed it for a bedroom.

Riley was both overwhelmed and amused.

When he finished explaining things, she said …

“So—is this your way of asking me to marry you?”

Blaine stammered, “I—I guess it is. I realize it’s not very romantic. No ring, no kneeling.”

Riley laughed and said, “Blaine, if you kneel, I swear to God I’ll slap you silly.”

Blaine stared at her with surprise.

But Riley almost meant it. She was having a flashback to Ryan proposing to her so many years ago when they’d been young and poor—Ryan a struggling lawyer and Riley an FBI intern. Ryan had gone through the whole ritual, kneeling and offering her a ring that he really couldn’t afford.

It had seemed plenty romantic back then.

But things had turned out so badly for them, the memory seemed sour to Riley now.

Blaine’s much less traditional proposal seemed perfect by comparison.

Blaine put his arm around Riley’s shoulders and kissed her on the neck.

“You know, marriage would have practical advantages,” he said. “We wouldn’t have to sleep in separate bedrooms when the kids were around.”

Riley felt a tingle of desire at his kiss and his suggestion.

Yes, that would be an advantage, she thought.

Intimate moments had been scarce. The two of them had relegated themselves to separate bedrooms even during this lovely vacation.

Riley sighed deeply and said, “It’s a lot to think about, Blaine. A lot for both of us to think about.”

Blaine nodded. “I know. That’s why I don’t expect you to jump up and down with joy yelling ‘yes, yes, yes’ at the top of your lungs. I just want you to know … it’s been on my mind, and I hope it’s been on your mind too.”

Riley smiled and admitted, “Yes, it has been on my mind.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments. Again, Riley found herself enjoying the quietness between them. But of course, she knew they couldn’t leave all those questions milling through both their minds unanswered.

Finally Riley said, “Let’s go back outside.”

They refilled their glasses and went out onto the porch and sat down again. The night was getting lovelier by the minute.

Blaine reached over and took Riley’s hand. “I know it’s a big decision. We’ve got a lot to think over. For one thing, we’ve both been married before. And … well, we’re not getting any younger.”

Riley silently thought …

All the more reason to make a commitment.

Blaine continued, “Maybe we should start by listing all the reasons why this might not be a good idea.”

Riley laughed and said, “Oh, Blaine—do we have to?”

But she knew perfectly well he was right.

And I might as well be the one to start, she decided.

She took a long, slow breath and said, “To begin with, we’ve got more than each other to think about. We’re already both parents, with three teenagers between us. If we get married we’ll also be stepparents—me to your girl, you to my two girls. That’s quite a commitment right there.”

“I know,” Blaine said. “But I love the idea of being a father to April and Jilly.”

Riley’s throat tightened with emotion at the sincerity in his voice.

“I feel the same way about Crystal,” she said. Then with a chuckle she added, “My girls have already got a cat and a dog. I hope that’s OK.”

Blaine said, “That’s fine. I won’t even ask for a pet deposit.”

Their laughter rang musically through the night air.

Then Riley said, “OK, it’s your turn.”

Blaine sighed deeply and said, “Well, we’ve both got exes.”

Echoing his sigh, Riley said, “That we do.”

She shuddered as she remembered her only encounter with Blaine’s ex-wife, Phoebe. The woman had been physically attacking poor Crystal in a drunken rage until Riley pulled her off.

Blaine had told Riley that his marriage to Phoebe had been a mistake of his youth, before he’d had any idea that she was bipolar and a danger to herself and others.

Seeming to guess Riley’s thoughts, Blaine said …

“I never hear from Phoebe anymore. She’s living with her sister, Drew. I do communicate with Drew from time to time. She says Phoebe is in recovery and doing better, but she doesn’t give any thought to Crystal and me anymore. I’m sure she’s out of our lives for good.”

Riley swallowed hard and said …

“I wish I could say the same for Ryan.”

Blaine squeezed Riley’s hand and said, “Well, he is April’s father. He’s going to want to keep being part of your lives. Jilly’s too. I can understand that.”

“You’re being too fair to him,” Riley said.

“Really? Why?”

Riley thought …

How can I begin to explain?

Ryan’s one attempt to reconcile and move back in with her had ended disastrously—especially for Jilly and April, who learned the hard way they couldn’t rely on him to be any kind of a father.

Meanwhile, Riley had no idea how many girlfriends had come and gone in Ryan’s life.

She took a sip of her wine and said, “I don’t think we’ll see much of Ryan. And I think that’s just as well.”

Riley and Blaine fell silent for a few moments. As they stared out into the night, Riley’s worries about Phoebe and Ryan slipped out of her mind, and again she basked in the wonderful warmth and comfort of Blaine’s simple companionship.

The quiet was broken by the sounds of footsteps and chattering and giggling as the girls came running out of their room. Then it sounded like they were doing something in the kitchen—getting a late-night snack, Riley guessed.

Meanwhile, Riley and Blaine started talking quietly about different issues—how their very different careers might or might not mesh, how Riley would have to sell the townhouse she’d bought just a year ago, how they would manage their finances, and similar things.

As they talked, Riley found herself thinking …

We started off trying to list reasons why getting married isn’t a good idea.

Instead, it seemed like a better and better idea with each passing second.

And the really beautiful thing was—neither of them had to say so aloud.

I might as well have said yes, she thought.

She certainly felt as though they were seriously engaged to be married.

And she really liked that feeling.

Their conversation was broken when April came rushing out onto the porch with Riley’s cell phone in hand.

The phone was buzzing.

Handing the phone to Riley, April said …

“Hey, Mom—you left your phone in the kitchen. You’ve got a call.”

Riley stifled a sigh. She couldn’t imagine that the call was from anyone she’d want to hear from right now. Sure enough, she saw that the caller was her boss, Special Agent Brent Meredith.

Her spirits faded as she realized …

He wants me back at work.

CHAPTER FOUR

When Riley answered the call, she heard Meredith’s familiar gruff voice.

“How’s your vacation going, Agent Paige?”

Riley managed to keep from saying …

“It was going fine until just now.”

Instead she replied, “It’s lovely. Thanks.”

She got up from the chair and wandered along the porch a little ways.

Meredith let out a hesitant growl, then said …

“Listen, we’ve been getting some peculiar phone calls from a female police officer in Mississippi—a little beachside town called Rushville. She’s working on a murder case. A local man got his head bashed in with a hammer and …”

Meredith paused again, then said …

“She’s got some idea that they’re dealing with a serial killer.”

“Why?” Riley asked.

“Because something similar happened in Rushville—some ten years ago.”

Riley’s squinted with surprise.

She said, “That’s kind of a long time between murders.”

“Yeah, I know,” Meredith said. “I talked to her chief, and he said there was nothing to it. He said she’s just some bored small-town cop looking for excitement. The thing is, though, she keeps calling and she doesn’t really sound like a crazy person so maybe …”

Again Meredith fell silent. Riley looked inside the house and saw that Blaine was helping the girls get something to eat in the kitchen. They all looked so happy. Riley’s heart sank at the thought of having to cut things short.

Then Meredith said, “Look, I guess I was just thinking, if you’re tired of vacationing and feeling homesick for work, maybe you could go down to Mississippi and—”

 

Riley was startled to hear her own voice interrupt him sharply.

“No,” she said.

Another silence fell, and Riley’s heart jumped up into her throat.

Oh, my God, she thought.

I just said no to Brent Meredith.

She couldn’t remember ever having done that before—and for very good reason. Meredith was known to have a sharp dislike for that word, especially when there was a job to do.

Riley braced herself for a fierce dressing-down. Instead, she heard a gravelly sigh.

Meredith said, “Yeah, I should have figured. It’s probably nothing anyway. I’m sorry I bothered you. Keep on enjoying your vacation.”

Meredith ended the call, and Riley stood on the porch looking at the phone.

Meredith’s words rattled through her head …

“I’m sorry I bothered you.”

That didn’t sound like the chief at all.

Apologies of any sort just weren’t his style.

So what was he really thinking?

Riley had a feeling that Meredith didn’t believe what he’d just said …

“It’s probably nothing anyway.”

Riley suspected that something about the female cop’s story had piqued Meredith’s interest, and he more than half believed there really was a serial killer down in Mississippi. But because he didn’t have any tangible evidence to go on, he didn’t feel as though he could just haul off and order Riley to take the case.

As Riley kept staring at the phone she found herself thinking …

Should I maybe call him back?

Should I go to Mississippi and check this out, at least?

Her thoughts were interrupted by April’s voice.

“So what’s going on? Is vacation over?”

Riley looked and saw that her daughter was standing nearby on the porch, looking at her with a sour expression.

“Why do you think that?” Riley asked.

April sighed and said, “Come on, Mom. I saw who the call was from. You’ve got to run off on another case, don’t you?”

Riley looked into the kitchen and saw that Blaine and the other two girls were still putting snacks together. But Jilly was eyeing Riley uneasily.

Riley suddenly wondered …

What the hell was I just thinking?

She smiled at April and said …

“No, I don’t have to go anywhere. As a matter of fact …”

Then smiling more broadly she added …

“I said no.”

April’s eyes widened. Then she dashed back into the kitchen shouting …

“Hey, guys! Mom said no to a case!”

The other two girls started yelling “Yay!” and “Way to go!” while Blaine gazed at Riley happily.

Then some lighthearted bickering started as Jilly said to her sister …

“I told you. I told you she’d say no.”

April retorted, “No, you didn’t. You were even more worried than I was.”

“Was not,” Jilly said. “You owe me ten dollars.”

“We never made a bet about it!”

“Did too!”

The two girls punched each other playfully, giggling and laughing as they argued.

Riley laughed as well and said, “OK, kids. Break it up. No arguing. Don’t spoil a perfect vacation. Let’s all have something to eat.”

She joined the chattering, laughing group for an evening snack.

As they ate, she and Blaine kept looking at each other lovingly.

They really were a couple with three teenaged children to raise.

Riley wondered …

When was the last time I had a night this wonderful?

*

Riley was barefoot, walking on a stretch of beach as the morning light gleamed on the waves. The gulls were calling and the breeze was cool and gentle.

It’s going to be a beautiful day, she thought.

But even so, something seemed deeply wrong.

It took her a moment to realize …

I’m alone.

She looked up and down the beach and saw no one as far as she could see.

Where are they? she wondered.

Where were April and Jilly and Crystal?

And where was Blaine?

A strange dread started to rise up in her, and also a terrifying thought …

Maybe I dreamed the whole thing.

Yes, maybe last night had never happened.

None of it.

Those loving moments with Blaine as they planned their future together.

The laughter of her two daughters—and also Crystal, who was about to become her third daughter.

Her warm, rich feeling of belonging—a feeling she’d spent her whole life seeking and craving.

All just a dream.

And now she was alone—as alone as she’d ever been in her life.

Just then she heard laughing and chattering behind her.

She spun around and saw them …

Blaine, Crystal, April, and Jilly were all running around throwing a beach ball to one another.

Riley breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Of course it was real, she thought.

Of course I didn’t just imagine it.

Riley laughed with joy and broke into a run to join them.

But then something hard and invisible stopped her dead in her tracks.

It was some kind of a barrier that separated her from the people she loved most.

Riley walked along the barrier, running her hands along it, thinking …

Maybe there’s a way around it.

Then she heard a familiar rasp of laughter.

“Give it up, girl,” a voice said. “That life’s not for you.”

Riley turned around and saw someone standing just a few feet away from her.

It was a man in the full-dress uniform of a Marine colonel. He was tall and gangly, his face worn and wrinkled from years of anger and alcohol.

He was the last human being in the world Riley wanted to see.

“Daddy,” she murmured with despair.

He chuckled grimly and said, “Hey, you don’t have to sound so goddamn sad about it. I thought you’d be glad to be reunited with your own flesh and blood.”

“You’re dead,” Riley said.

Daddy shrugged and said, “Well, as you already know, that doesn’t stop me from checking in from time to time.”

Riley dimly realized that this was the truth.

This wasn’t the first time she’d seen her father since his death last year.

And this wasn’t the first time she’d been puzzled by his presence. Just how she could be talking to a dead man made no real sense to her.

But she did know one thing for sure.

She wanted nothing to do with him.

She wanted to be among people who didn’t make her hate herself.

She turned and started to walk toward Blaine and the girls, who were still playing with the beach ball.

Again she was stopped by that invisible barrier.

Her father laughed. “How many times have I got to tell you? You’ve got no business with them.”

Riley’s whole body shook—whether with rage or heartbreak, she wasn’t sure.

She turned toward her father and yelled …

“Leave me alone!”

“Are you sure?” he said. “I’m all you’ve got. I’m all you are.”

Riley snarled, “I’m nothing like you. I know what it means to love and be loved.”

Her father shook his head and shuffled his feet in the sand.

“It’s not that I don’t sympathize,” he said. “It’s a damn crazy useless life you’ve got—seeking justice for people who’re already dead, exactly the people who don’t need justice anymore. Just like it was for me in ’Nam, a stupid war there was no way to win. But you’ve got no choice, and it’s time to make peace with it. You’re a hunter, like me. I raised you that way. We don’t know anything else—neither one of us.”

Riley locked eyes with him, testing her will against his.

Sometimes she could best him, making him blink.

But now wasn’t one of those times.

She blinked and looked away.

Her father sneered at her and said, “Hell, if you want to be alone, that’s fine with me. I’m not exactly enjoying your company either.”

He turned and walked away down the beach.

Riley turned around, and this time she saw them all walking away—April and Jilly hand in hand, Blaine and Crystal heading their own separate way.

As they started to disappear in the morning missed, Riley pounded on the barrier and tried to shout …

“Come back! Please come back! I love you all!”

Her lips moved but made no sound at all.

*

Riley eyes snapped open and she found herself lying in bed.

A dream, she thought. I should have known it was a dream.

Her father sometimes came to her in dreams.

How else could he visit her, being dead?

It took her another moment to realize that she was crying.

The overwhelming loneliness, the isolation from the people she loved most, the words of warning from her father …

“You’re a hunter, like me.”

Small wonder she’d woken up in such distress.

She reached for a tissue and managed to calm her sobbing. But even then, that lonely feeling wouldn’t go away. She reminded herself that the kids were sleeping in another room, and Blaine was in another.

But it seemed hard to believe somehow.

Alone in the dark, she felt as though any other people were far away, on the other side of the world.

She thought about getting up and tiptoeing down the hall and joining Blaine in his room, but …

The kids.

They were staying in separate bedrooms because of the kids.

She tugged the pillow around her head and tried to go to sleep again, but she couldn’t stop thinking …

A hammer.

Someone in Mississippi got killed with a hammer.

She told herself it wasn’t her case, and she’d said no to Brent Meredith.

But even as she finally drifted back to sleep, those thoughts wouldn’t go away …

There’s a killer out there.

There’s a case to be solved.

CHAPTER FIVE

When she walked into the Rushville police station first thing in the morning, Samantha had a feeling she was going to be in trouble. Yesterday she’d made a few phone calls that perhaps she shouldn’t have made.

Maybe I should learn to mind my own business, she thought.

But somehow, minding her own business didn’t come easily to her.

She was always trying to fix things—sometimes things that couldn’t be fixed, or things that other people didn’t want to have fixed.

As usual when she showed up for work, Sam saw no other cops around, just the chief’s secretary, Mary Ruckle.

Her fellow officers teased her a lot for that …

“Good old reliable Sam,” they’d say. “Always the first to get here, the last to get out.”

Somehow, they never seemed to mean that in a nice way. But she always reminded herself that it was natural for “good old reliable Sam” to get picked on. She was the youngest and newest cop on the Rushville force. It didn’t help any that she was also the only female on the force.

For a moment Mary Ruckle didn’t seem to notice Sam’s arrival. She was busily doing her nails—her usual occupation during most of a workday. Sam couldn’t understand the appeal of doing one’s nails. She always kept hers plain and clipped short, which was maybe one of the many reasons people thought of her as, well …

Unladylike.

Not that Mary Ruckle was what Sam would consider attractive. Her face was all tight and mean, as if it were all pinched together by a clothespin on the bridge of her nose. Still, Mary was married with three children, and few people in Rushville foresaw that kind of life for Sam.

Whether Sam actually wanted that kind of life, she didn’t really know. She tried not to think too much about the future. Maybe that was why she focused so hard on every bit of whatever came in front of her on any given day. She couldn’t actually imagine a future for herself, at least not among the choices that seemed to be available.

Mary puffed on her nails and looked up at Sam and said …

“Chief Crane wants to talk to you.”

Sam nodded with a sigh.

Just like I expected, she thought.

She walked on into the chief’s office and found Chief Carter Crane playing Tetris on his computer.

“Just a minute,” he grumbled upon hearing Sam walk into the room.

Probably distracted by Sam’s arrival, he quickly lost the game he was playing.

 

“Damn,” he said, staring at the screen.

Sam braced herself. He was probably already pissed off with her. Blowing a game of Tetris wasn’t going to improve his mood.

The Chief turned around in his swivel chair and said …

“Kuehling, sit.”

Sam obediently sat down in front of his desk.

Chief Crane steepled his fingertips together and stared at her for a moment, trying as usual to look like the big shot he imagined himself to be. And as usual, Sam wasn’t impressed.

Crane was about thirty, and he was blandly pleasant-looking in a way that Sam thought would better suit an insurance man. Instead, he had risen to the post of police chief due to the power vacuum that Chief Jason Swihart had left when he went suddenly went away two years ago.

Swihart had been a good chief and everybody had liked him, including Sam. Swihart been offered a great job with a security company way over in Silicon Valley, and he’d understandably moved on to greener pastures.

So now Sam and the other cops were answerable to Chief Carter Crane. As far as Sam was concerned, he was a mediocrity in a department full of mediocrities. Sam would never admit it aloud, but she felt sure she had better brains than Crane and all the other local cops put together.

It’d be nice to have a chance to prove it, she thought.

Finally Crane said, “I got an interesting phone call last night—from a certain Special Agent Brent Meredith in Quantico. You’d never believe what he told me. Oh, but then again, maybe you would.”

Sam groaned with annoyance and said, “Come on, Chief. Let’s get right to the point. I called the FBI late last afternoon. I talked to several people before I finally got connected with Meredith. I thought somebody ought to call the FBI. They should be down here helping us out.”

Crane smirked and said, “Don’t tell me. It’s because you still think Gareth Ogden’s murder the night before last was the work of a serial killer who lives right here in Rushville.”

Sam rolled her eyes.

“Do I need to explain it all over again?” she said. “The whole Bonnett family got killed here one night ten years ago. Somebody bashed in their heads with a hammer. The case was never solved.”

Crane nodded and said, “And you think the same killer has come out of the woodwork ten years later.”

Sam shrugged and said, “There’s pretty obviously some connection. The MO is identical.”

Crane suddenly raised his voice a little.

“There’s no connection. We went through all this yesterday. The MO is just a coincidence. The best we can tell, Gareth Ogden was killed by some drifter passing through town. We’re following every lead we can. But unless he does the same thing somewhere else, we’re liable to never catch him.”

Sam felt a surge of impatience.

She said, “If he was just a drifter, why wasn’t there any sign of a robbery?”

Crane slapped his desk with the palm of his hand.

“Damn it, you don’t give up on any of your notions, do you? We don’t know that there wasn’t a robbery. Ogden was dumb enough to leave his front door open. Maybe he was also dumb enough to leave a wad of money lying on his coffee table. The killer saw it and decided to help himself to it, bashing in Ogden’s head in the process.”

Cradling his fingertips together again, Crane added …

“Now doesn’t that sound more plausible than some psychopath who’s spent ten long years … doing what, exactly? Hibernating, maybe?”

Sam took a long, deep breath.

Don’t get started with him again, she told herself.

There was no point in explaining all over again just why Crane’s theory bugged her. For one thing, what about the hammer? She herself had noticed that Ogden’s hammers were all still neatly stowed in his tool chest. So did the killer lug around a hammer with him as he drifted from town to town?

It was possible, sure.

It also struck her as a little bit ridiculous.

Crane growled sullenly and added, “I told that Meredith guy that you were bored and overly imaginative and to forget all about it. But frankly, the whole conversation was embarrassing. I don’t like it when people go over my head. You had no business making those phone calls. Asking for help from the FBI is my job, not yours.”

Sam was grinding her teeth, struggling to keep her thoughts to herself.

She managed to say in a quiet voice …

“Yes, Chief.”

Crane breathed what sounded like a sigh of relief.

“I’m going to let this slide and not take any disciplinary action this time around,” he said. “The truth is, I’d be much happier if none of the guys found out any of this happened. Have you told anybody else here about your shenanigans?”

“No, Chief.”

“Then keep it that way,” Crane said.

Crane turned and started a new game of Tetris as Sam left his office. She went to her desk and sat down and brooded silently.

If I can’t talk to somebody about this, I’m liable to explode, she thought.

But she’d just promised not to bring it up with the other cops.

So who did that leave?

She could think of exactly one person … the one who was the reason she was here, trying to do this job …

My dad.

He’d been an active duty cop here when the Bonnett family had been murdered.

The fact that the case wasn’t solved had haunted him for years.

Maybe Dad could tell me something, she thought.

Maybe he’d have some ideas.

But Sam’s heart sank as she realized that wouldn’t be such a good idea. Her father was in a local nursing home and was suffering from bouts of dementia. He had his good days and his bad days, but bringing up a case from his past would almost certainly upset and confuse him. Sam didn’t want to do that.

Right now she had nothing much to do until her partner, Dominic, showed up for their morning beat. She hoped he’d get here soon, so they could make a round of the area before the heat got too oppressive. Today was expected to break some records.

Meanwhile, there was no point in worrying about things she couldn’t do anything about—not even the possibility that a serial killer might be right here in Rushville, getting ready to strike again.

Try not to think about it, she told herself.

Then she scoffed and murmured aloud …

“Like that’s going to happen.”

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