Блейк Пирс
Once Trapped

Полная версия

CHAPTER FIVE

Riley was almost hyperventilating as she tried to grasp what was happening.

Surely I can contest this decision, she thought.

The agency and the lawyer could easily put together some solid evidence of Scarlatti’s abusive behavior.

But what would happen in the meantime?

Jilly would never stay with her father. She would run away again—and this time she might really disappear.

Riley might never see her youngest daughter again.

Still sitting at the bench, the judge said to Jilly, “Young lady, I think you should go to your father now.”

To Riley’s surprise, Jilly looked utterly calm.

She squeezed Riley’s hand and whispered …

“Don’t worry, Mom. This is going to be all right.”

She walked over to where Scarlatti and his fiancée were now standing. Albert Scarlatti’s smile seemed warm and welcoming.

Just as her father held out his arms to hug her, Jilly said, “I’ve got something to say to you.”

A curious expression crossed Scarlatti’s face.

Jilly said, “You killed my brother.”

“Wh-what?” Scarlatti stammered. “No, that’s not true, and you know it. Your brother Norbert ran away. I’ve told you lots of times—”

Jilly interrupted him.

“No, I’m not talking about my big brother. I don’t even remember him. I’m talking about my little brother.”

“But you never had a—”

“No, I never had a little brother. Because you killed him.”

Scarlatti’s mouth dropped open and his face reddened.

Her voice shaking with anger, Jilly continued, “I guess you think I don’t remember my mother, because I was so little when she left. But I do remember. I remember she was pregnant. I remember you yelling at her. You hit her in the stomach. I saw you do it, again and again. Then she was sick. And then she wasn’t pregnant anymore. She told me it was a boy, and he would have been my little brother, but you killed him.”

Riley was staggered by what Jilly was saying. She had no doubt that every word of it was true.

I wish she could have told me, she thought.

But of course, Jilly must have found it too painful to talk about—until this very moment.

Jilly was sobbing now. She said, “Mommy cried a lot when she told me. She said she had to go away, or you’d kill her sooner or later. And she did go away. And I never saw her again.”

Scarlatti’s face was knotting up in an ugly expression. Riley could see that he was struggling with his rage.

He growled, “Girl, you don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining the whole thing.”

Jilly said, “She was wearing her pretty blue dress that day. The one she really liked. See, I do remember. I saw the whole thing.”

Jilly’s words were pouring out in a desperate torrent.

“You kill everything and everybody sooner or later. You can’t help it. I’ll bet you even lied when you told me my puppy ran away. You probably killed Darby too.”

Scarlatti was shaking all over now.

Jilly’s words kept flowing out, “My mother did the right thing by running away, and I hope she’s happy, wherever she is. And if she’s dead—well, she’s still better off than she would be with you.”

Scarlatti let out a roar of fury. “Shut up, you little bitch!”

He grabbed Jilly by the shoulder with one hand and slapped her across the face with the other.

Jilly cried out and tried to pull away from him.

Riley was on her feet, rushing toward Scarlatti. Before she got there, two security officers had grabbed the man by the arms.

Jilly broke free and ran to Riley.

The judge pounded his gavel and everything got quiet. He looked around the courtroom as if he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

For a moment, he just sat there, breathing heavily.

Then he looked at Riley and said, “Ms. Paige, I think I owe you an apology. I made the wrong decision just now, and I rescind it.”

He glared at Scarlatti and added, “Another sound from you and I’ll put you under arrest.”

Looking at the others in the room, the judge said firmly, “There will be no further hearings. This is my final determination on this adoption. Custody is awarded to the adoptive mother.”

He rapped his gavel again and got up and left the courtroom without another word.

Riley turned and looked at Scarlatti. His dark eyes were furious, but the two security officers were still standing beside him. He glanced at his fiancée, who was looking on in horror. Then Scarlatti hung his head and just stood there quietly.

Jilly threw herself into Riley’s arms, sobbing.

Riley held her close and said, “You’re a brave girl, Jilly. I’m never going to let you go, no matter what happens. You can count on it.”

*

Jilly’s cheek was still stinging as Riley wrapped up a few details with Brenda and the lawyer. But it seemed like a good kind of hurting and she knew it would soon go away. She’d told the truth about something she’d kept to herself for much too long. As a result, she was free from her father forever.

Riley—her new mom—drove her back to their hotel room, where they packed up quickly and drove to the airport. They arrived in plenty of time for their flight home and checked their bags so they wouldn’t have to lug them around. Then they went together to a restroom.

Jilly stood looking in a mirror while her mom was in a nearby stall.

A slight bruise was forming on the side of her face where her father had hit her. But it was going to be OK now.

Her father could never hurt her again. And all because she’d come out and told the truth about her little lost brother at last. That was all it had taken to turn everything around.

She smiled a little as she remembered Mom saying to her …

“You’re a brave girl, Jilly.”

Yes, Jilly thought. I guess I am pretty brave.

CHAPTER SIX

When Riley came out of the restroom, she didn’t see Jilly anywhere.

The first thing she felt was a flash of anger.

She remembered telling Jilly clearly …

“Wait right outside the door. Don’t go anywhere.”

And now she was nowhere in sight.

That girl, Riley thought.

She wasn’t worried about missing their flight. They had plenty of time before boarding. But she had hoped to take things slow and easy after such a hard day. She’d planned for them to go on through security, find their gate, and then find a nice place to eat.

Riley sighed with discouragement.

Even after Jilly’s courageous actions in the courtroom, Riley couldn’t help but be disappointed by this new display of immaturity.

She knew that if she went searching for Jilly in the big terminal, they’d probably go on missing each other time and time again. She looked for a place to sit and wait for Jilly to come back, which she surely would do sooner or later.

But as Riley gazed around the big, open terminal building, she caught a glimpse of Jilly going through one of the glass doors that led outside.

Or at least she thought it was Jilly—it was hard to be sure from where Riley was standing.

And who was that woman that the girl seemed to be with?

It looked like Barbara Long, Albert Scarlatti’s fiancée.

But the two people disappeared quickly among the travelers milling about outside.

Riley felt a tingle of apprehension. Had her eyes been playing tricks on her?

No, she was now pretty sure of what she’d seen.

But what was going on? Why would Jilly be going anywhere with that woman?

Riley got moving. She knew there was no time to make sense of this. Breaking into a trot, she instinctively reached under her lightweight jacket and patted the gun she wore in her shoulder holster.

She was stopped by a uniformed security guard who stepped in front of her.

He spoke in a calm, professional voice. “Are you drawing a weapon, ma’am?”

Riley let out a groan of frustration.

She said, “Sir, I don’t have time for this.”

She could tell by the guard’s expression that she’d only confirmed his suspicion.

He drew his own weapon and moved toward her. Out of the corner of her eye, Riley saw that another guard had spotted the activity and was also approaching.

“Let me by,” Riley snapped, showing both of her hands. “I’m an FBI agent.”

The guard with the gun didn’t reply. Riley guessed that he didn’t believe her. And she knew he was trained not to believe her. He was just doing his job.

The second guard looked like he was now about to frisk her.

Riley was losing precious time. Given her superior training, she calculated that she could probably disarm the guard with the gun before he could fire. But the last thing she needed right now was to get into a needless hassle with a pair of well-meaning security guards.

Forcing herself to stand still, she said, “Look, just let me show you my ID.”

The two guards glanced at each other warily.

“OK,” the guard with the gun said. “But slowly.”

Riley carefully pulled out her badge and showed it to them.

Their mouths dropped open.

“I’m in a hurry,” Riley said.

The guard standing in front of her nodded and holstered his gun.

Gratefully, she broke into a run across the terminal and dashed through the glass doors to the outside.

Riley looked all around. Neither Jilly nor the woman were anywhere in sight.

But then she spotted her daughter’s face in the back window of an SUV. Jilly looked alarmed, and her hands were pressing against the glass.

Even worse, the vehicle was starting to pull away.

Riley broke into a desperate run.

Luckily, the SUV bounced to a halt. A vehicle ahead of it had stopped for pedestrians and the SUV was trapped behind it.

Riley reached the driver’s side before the SUV could pull away again.

And there was Albert Scarlatti in the driver’s seat.

She pulled out her gun and pointed it through the window, directly at his head.

“It’s over, Scarlatti,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.

But before she knew it, Scarlatti swung his door open, slamming it into her. The gun fell out of her hand and clattered to the pavement.

Riley was furious now—not just at Scarlatti, but at herself for misjudging the distance between herself and the door. For once she’d let her panic get the best of her.

But she recovered her wits in a split-second.

This man was not going to get away with Jilly.

Before Scarlatti could slam the door shut again, Riley jammed her arm inside to block it. Although the door hit her arm painfully, it couldn’t close.

Riley yanked the door wide open and saw that Scarlatti hadn’t bothered to fasten his seat belt.

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him, cursing and struggling, out of the car.

He was a big man, and stronger than she’d expected. He pulled loose from her and raised his fist to punch her in the face. But Riley was faster. She hit him hard in the solar plexus and heard the wind burst out of his lungs as he buckled forward. Then she hit him in the back of the head.

He fell flat on his face on the pavement.

Riley retrieved her gun from where it had fallen and put it back into her holster.

By then, several security guards were scurrying around her. Fortunately, one of them was the man she’d faced inside the terminal.

“It’s OK,” the man yelled to the other guards. “She’s FBI.”

The worried guards obediently kept their distance.

Now Riley heard Jilly yell from inside the car …

“Mom! Open the back!”

When Riley stepped over to the vehicle, she saw that the woman, Barbara Long, was sitting in the front passenger seat, looking terrified.

Without a word, Riley touched the unlock switch that controlled all the doors.

Jilly threw the hatch open and climbed out of the car.

Barbara Long opened the door on her side, looking as if she hoped to slip away. But one of the guards stopped her before she could take two steps.

Looking utterly defeated, Scarlatti was trying to crawl back to his feet.

Riley wondered …

What should I do with this guy? Arrest him? And her?

It seemed like a waste of time and energy. Besides, she and Jilly might be stuck here in Phoenix for days pressing charges against him.

While she was trying to make up her mind, she heard Jilly’s voice behind her …

“Mom, look!”

Riley turned around and saw Jilly holding a small, big-eared dog in her arms.

“You could just let that old ex-dad go,” Jilly said, with a mischievous grin. “After all, he did bring my dog back. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

“That’s …” Riley sputtered in astonishment, trying to remember the name of the puppy Jilly had talked about.

“This is Darby,” Jilly said proudly. “Now she can go home with us.”

Riley hesitated for a long moment, then felt her face break out into a smile.

She looked around at the guards and said, “Deal with this guy however you like. And his girlfriend too. My daughter and I have got a plane to catch.”

Riley led Jilly and the dog away from the perplexed-looking guards.

“Come on,” she said to Jilly. “We’ve got to find ourselves a pet carrier. And explain this to the airline.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

As their plane descended into DC, Riley sat with Jilly snuggled against her shoulder, napping. Even the little dog, nervous and whiny at the beginning of the flight, had settled down quickly. Darby was curled up and sleeping quietly in the carrier they’d hastily bought from the airline. Jilly had explained to Riley that Barbara Long had approached her outside the restroom and convinced her to go with her to get Darby, claiming she hated dogs and wanted Jilly to have her. When she got to the car, Barbara shoved her inside and locked the doors, and they took off.

Now that the whole ordeal was over, Riley found herself thinking again about that weird phone call from Morgan Farrell last night …

“I killed the bastard,” Morgan had said.

Riley had called the Atlanta police right away, but she hadn’t heard any news since from them, and she hadn’t had time to check back and find out what had happened.

She wondered—had Morgan been telling the truth, or had Riley sent the cops on a false alarm?

Was Morgan now in custody?

The whole idea of the fragile-looking woman killing anybody at all still struck Riley as very hard to believe.

But Morgan had been most insistent.

Riley remembered her saying …

“I’m looking right down at his body lying in bed, and he’s got knife wounds all over him, and he bled a lot.”

Riley knew all too well that even the mildest and unlikeliest people could be driven to violent extremes. It usually happened because of some twist in their own makeup, something repressed and hidden that burst forth under extreme circumstances, causing them to commit seemingly inhuman acts.

Morgan had also told her, “I’ve been rather doped up lately.”

Maybe Morgan had just fantasized or hallucinated the whole thing.

Riley reminded herself …

Whatever happened, it’s none of my concern.

It was time for her to focus on her own family, which now included two daughters—and to Riley’s own surprise, a dog.

And wasn’t it also time for her to get back to work?

But Riley couldn’t help thinking that after today’s courtroom and airport dramas, maybe she deserved a good rest break. Shouldn’t she take another day of leave before returning to Quantico?

Riley sighed as she realized …

Probably not.

Her work was important to her. She thought it might be important to the world at large. But then, thinking that way worried her. What kind of parent worked day in and day out pursuing the most vicious monsters alive, sometimes finding more than a little of a monster in herself in the process?

She knew that she sometimes couldn’t help bringing her grim work home with her, at times even in the direst possible way. Her cases had sometimes put the lives of people she loved in danger.

But it’s what I do, she thought.

And deep down, she knew that it was good work that had to be done. Somehow, she owed it even to her daughters to keep doing it—not only to protect them from monsters, but to show them how monsters could be defeated.

She needed to keep on being an example to them.

It’s best this way, she thought.

As the plane came to a stop at the concourse, Riley gave Jilly a little shake.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” she said. “We’re here.”

Jilly grumbled and groaned a little, and then her face broke into a grin as she saw the dog in its case. Darby had just woken up herself and was looking at Jilly and wagging her tail happily.

Then Jilly looked at Riley with joy in her eyes.

“We really did it, didn’t we, Mom?” she said. “We won.”

Riley hugged Jilly tightly and said, “We sure did, dear. You’re really and truly my daughter now, and I’m your mom. And nothing’s ever going to change that.”

*

When Riley, Jilly, and the dog arrived at their townhouse, April was waiting for them right at the door. Just inside were Blaine, Riley’s divorced boyfriend, and his fifteen-year-old daughter, Crystal, who was also April’s best friend. The family’s Guatemalan housekeeper, Gabriela, stood watching nearby.

Riley and Jilly had reported their good news from Phoenix and they had called again when they had landed and were on the way home, but she hadn’t mentioned the puppy. The whole crowd was there to welcome Jilly, but after a moment April leaned over to look at the carrier that Riley had put on the floor.

“What’s that?” she asked.

Jilly just giggled.

“It’s something alive,” Crystal said.

Jilly opened the top of the carrier and there was Darby, looking wide-eyed and a little worried at all the faces surrounding her.

“Omigod, omigod, omigod!” Crystal yelled.

“We’ve got a dog!” April squealed. “We’ve got a dog!”

Riley laughed as she remembered how calm and collected April had seemed when they’d talked just the night before. Now all that adult maturity had suddenly vanished, and April was acting like a little girl again. It was wonderful to see.

Jilly lifted Darby out of the carrier. It didn’t take the little dog very long to begin enjoying all the attention.

As the girls continued fussing noisily over the dog, Blaine asked Riley, “How did things go? Is everything really all settled?”

“Yes,” Riley told him, smiling. “It’s really over. Jilly is legally mine.”

Everybody else was too excited about the dog to talk about the adoption at the moment.

“What’s her name?” April said, holding up the dog.

“Darby,” Jilly told April.

“Where did you get her?” Crystal asked.

Riley chuckled and said, “Well, that’s quite a story. Give us a few minutes to settle in before we tell it.”

“What breed is she?” April asked.

“Part Chihuahua, I think,” Jilly said.

Gabriela took the dog out of April’s hands and examined it carefully.

“Yes, some Chihuahua, and she’s got some other kinds of dog in her,” the stout woman said. “What is the word in English for a mix of dogs?”

“A mutt,” Blaine said.

Gabriela nodded sagely and said, “Yes, you’ve got a real mutt here—auténtico, the real thing. A mutt is the best kind of dog. This one still has a little growing to do, but she will stay pretty small. ¡Bienvenidos! Darby. ¡Nuestra casa es tuya también! This is your home too!”

She handed the puppy to Jilly and said, “She’ll need some water now, and food after everything calms down. I have some leftover chicken we can give her later, but we’ll have to buy some real dog food soon.”

Following Gabriela’s instructions on how to set up a place for Darby, the girls hurried upstairs to Jilly’s room to make a bed and put down old newspapers in case she had to go to the bathroom during the night.

Meanwhile, Gabriela put food on the table—a delicious Guatemalan dish called pollo encebollado, chicken in onion sauce. Soon everybody sat down to eat.

Himself a chef and restaurant owner, Blaine praised the meal and asked Gabriela all kinds of questions about it. Then the conversation turned to all that had happened in Phoenix. Jilly insisted on telling the whole story herself. Blaine, Crystal, April, and Gabriela all sat with their mouths agape as they heard about the wild scene in the courtroom, and then the still wilder adventure at the airport.

And of course, everybody was delighted to hear about the new dog that had come into their lives.

We’re a family now, Riley thought. And it’s great to be home.

It was also going to be great to get back to work tomorrow.

After dessert, Blaine and Crystal went home, and April and Jilly went to the kitchen to feed Darby. Riley poured herself a drink and sat down in the living room.

She felt herself relaxing more and more. It really had been a crazy day, but now it was over.

Her phone rang, and she saw that the call was from Atlanta.

Riley felt a jolt. Could this be Morgan again? Who else would be calling from Atlanta?

She picked up the phone and heard a man’s voice. “Agent Paige? My name is Jared Ruhl, and I’m a police officer here in Atlanta. I got your number from the Quantico switchboard.”

“What can I do for you, Officer Ruhl?” Riley said.

In a tentative voice, Ruhl said, “Well, I’m not just sure, but … I guess you know that we arrested a woman for the murder of Andrew Farrell last night. It was his wife, Morgan. In fact, weren’t you the person who called in about it?”

Riley was feeling edgy now.

“I was,” she said.

“I also heard that Morgan Farrell called you right after the killing, before she called anybody else.”

“That’s right.”

A silence fell. Riley sensed that Ruhl was struggling with what he wanted to say.

Finally he said, “Agent Paige, what do you know about Morgan Farrell?”

Riley squinted with concern. She said, “Officer Ruhl, I’m not sure it’s proper for me to comment. I really don’t know anything about what happened, and it’s not an FBI case.”

“I understand that. I’m sorry, I guess I shouldn’t have called …”

His voice trailed off.

Then he added, “But Agent Paige, I don’t think Morgan Farrell did it. Murdered her husband, I mean. I’m kind of new to this job, and I know I’ve got a lot to learn … but I just don’t think she’s the type who could do that.”

Riley was startled at those words.

She certainly didn’t remember Morgan Farrell as being the “type” who might commit murder. But she had to be careful what she said to Ruhl. She wasn’t at all sure she ought to be having this conversation at all.

She asked Ruhl, “Has she confessed?”

“They tell me she has. And everybody believes her confession. My partner, the police chief, the DA—absolutely everybody. Except me. And I can’t help but wonder, do you …?”

He didn’t finish his question, but Riley knew what it was.

He wanted to know whether Riley believed Morgan to be capable of murder.

Slowly and cautiously, she said, “Officer Ruhl, I appreciate your concern. But it’s really not appropriate for me to speculate on any of this. I assume that it’s a local case, and unless the FBI is called in to help in the investigation, well … frankly, it’s none of my business.”

“Of course, my apologies,” said Ruhl politely. “I should have known better. Anyway, thanks for taking my call. I won’t bother you again.”

He ended the call, and Riley sat staring at the telephone, sipping from her drink.

The girls clattered past her, closely followed by the little dog. They were all on the way to the family room to play, and Darby was looking quite happy now.

Riley watched them go by, with a deep feeling of satisfaction. But then memories of Morgan Farrell began to intrude on her mind.

She and her partner, Bill Jeffreys, had gone to the Farrells’ mansion to interview Morgan’s husband regarding the death of his own son.

She remembered how Morgan had seemed almost too weak to stand, clinging to the banister of the huge staircase for support while her husband presided over her as if she were some sort of trophy.

She remembered the look of vacant terror in the woman’s eyes.

She also remembered what Andrew Farrell had said about her as soon as she was out of earshot …

“A rather famous model when I married her—perhaps you’ve seen her on magazine covers.”

And regarding how much younger Morgan had been than himself, he’d added …

“A stepmother should never be older than her husband’s oldest children. I’ve made sure of that with all my wives.”

Riley now felt the same chill she’d felt back then.

Morgan had obviously been nothing more than a costly trinket for Andrew Farrell to show off in public—not a human being at all.

Finally Riley remembered what had happened to Andrew Farrell’s wife before Morgan.

She had committed suicide.

When Riley had given Morgan her FBI card, she’d been worried that the woman might meet the same fate—or die under other sinister circumstances. The last thing she had imagined was that Morgan would kill her husband—or anybody else for that matter.

Riley began to feel a familiar tingle—the kind of tingle she got whenever her instincts told her that things were not what they seemed.

Normally, that tingle was a signal for her to probe the matter more deeply.

But now?

No, it’s really none of my business, she told herself.

Or was it?

While she was puzzling things over, her phone rang again. This time she saw that the call was from Bill. She’d texted him that everything was all right and she’d be home tonight.

“Hi, Riley,” he said when she answered. “Just checking in. So everything went all right in Phoenix?”

“Thanks for calling, Bill,” she replied. “Yes, the adoption is final now.”

“Everything was thoroughly uneventful, I hope,” Bill asked.

Riley couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not exactly,” she said. “In fact, far from it. There was, uh, some violence involved. And a dog.”

She heard Bill chuckle as well.

“Violence and a dog? I’m intrigued! Tell me more!”

“I will when we see each other,” Riley said. “It’ll be a better story if I can tell you face to face.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in Quantico, then.”

Riley fell silent for a moment as she felt on the brink of a strange decision.

She said to Bill, “I don’t think so. I think maybe I’ll take a couple more days off.”

“Well, you certainly deserve it. Congratulations again.”

They ended the call, and Riley headed upstairs to her room. She turned on her computer.

Then she booked a flight to Atlanta for tomorrow morning.