Special Agent Brent Meredith shut the thick manila envelope stuffed with photographs and written reports with a note of satisfied finality. Riley felt the same satisfaction, and she was sure that Bill and Flores did too. They were all seated at the table in the Behavioral Analysis Unit conference room. If only Riley weren't bandaged up and hurting all over, the moment would have felt perfect.
"So Dirk's mother wanted a daughter instead of a son," Meredith said. "She tried to turn him into a Southern belle. That was probably just the tip of the iceberg. God knows what else he went through as a kid."
Bill leaned back in his chair.
"Let's not give him too much sympathy," he said. "Not everybody with a lousy childhood turns into a murderous sadist. He made his own choices."
Meredith and Flores nodded in agreement.
"But does anybody know whatever happened to Dirk's mother?" Riley asked.
"Records show that she died five years ago," Flores said. "His father disappeared long before that, when Dirk was still a baby."
A sober silence settled over the group. Riley understood exactly what it meant. She was in the presence of three people whose lives were devoted to destroying evil. Even in their satisfaction, the specter of more evil, and much more work to do, hung over all of them. It would never be over. Not for them.
The door opened, and Carl Walder walked in. He was all smiles.
"Great work, everybody," he said. He slid Riley's gun and badge across the table toward her. "These belong to you."
Riley smiled a wry smile. Walder was not going to apologize, much less acknowledge any fault of his own. But that was just as well. Riley didn't know just how she'd respond if he actually said he was sorry. Probably not gracefully.
"By the way, Riley," Walder said. "The Senator called me this morning, and he sends you his best wishes for your recovery, and his thanks. He seems to think the world of you."
Riley now had to stifle her amusement. That call, she was sure, was exactly why Walder was giving her back her gun and her badge. She remembered one of the last things Newbrough had said to her.
"You're nobody's lapdog."
The same thing could never be said of Carl Walder.
"Stop by my office soon," Walder said. "Let's talk promotion. An administrative position, maybe. You deserve it."
Without another word, Walder left the office. Riley heard her companions breathe a shared sigh of relief that he was gone so quickly.
"You should think about it, Riley," Meredith said.
Riley chuckled.
"Can you really see me in an administrative job?"
Meredith shrugged.
"You've more than paid your dues. You've done more tough field work than most agents do in a lifetime. Maybe you should become an instructor. You'd be great at training agents, with your experience and insight. What do you think?"
Riley thought it over. What would she really have to teach young agents? Her instincts were all she had, and as far as she knew, instincts couldn't be taught. There was no way to train people to follow their gut. They either had it or they didn't.
Besides, did she really wish her own gut instincts on anybody? She lived too much in terror of her own thoughts, haunted by her troubling capacity to grasp an evil mind. It was a hard thing to live with.
"Thanks," Riley said, "but I like it just where I am."
Meredith nodded, and rose from his chair. "Well, let's call it a day. Get some rest, folks."
The meeting broke up, and Riley and Bill found themselves walking down the hall together silently. They left the building and sat down together on a bench outside. Whole minutes passed. Neither of them seemed to know what to say. There was too much to say.
"Bill," she asked tentatively, "do you think we can be partners again?"
After a pause, Bill said, "What do you think?"
They turned and looked into each other's eyes. Riley could see lingering pain in Bill's face. The wound she'd inflicted with her drunken phone call still hadn't healed. It was going to take a long time.
But she now knew something else—something that had long been true, but that she'd never let herself admit before. Her bond to Bill was intense and powerful, and he almost certainly felt the same. It was no longer a secret that they could keep from themselves. There was no way for them to go back to their former ways.
Their partnership was over. They both knew it. Neither one of them had to say it aloud.
"Go home, Bill," Riley said gently. "Try to put things back together with your wife. You've got your kids to think of."
"I will," Bill said. "But I hope I don't lose you—your friendship, I mean."
Riley patted his hand and smiled.
"There's no chance of that," she said.
They both got up from the bench and walked away to their cars.
*
"What's on your mind, Mom?" April asked.
Riley and April had been sitting in the living room long into the night watching television. Earlier that evening, Riley had told April all that had happened—or at least all that she felt she could tell her.
Riley hesitated before answering April's question. But she knew that she had to say it aloud. Besides, April knew about it already. It wasn't a secret. It was just something Riley couldn't shake off her mind.
"I killed a man today," Riley said.
April looked at her with love and concern.
"I know," she said. "What does that feel like?"
"It's hard to put into words," Riley said. "It's terrible. It's something no one has a right to do—not ever, really. But sometimes it's the only thing."
Riley paused. "I feel something else," she said. "I'm not sure I should say it."
April laughed quietly. "I thought we weren't going to do the silent thing anymore, Mom."
Riley steadied herself and said, "I feel alive. God help me, it makes me feel alive. And any day now, I know that some woman will walk into Madeline's store and buy a doll and never be in any danger. I'm just … well, I'm just happy for her. I'm glad that I could give her that, even if she'll never know it."
Riley squeezed April's hand.
"It's late, and you've got school tomorrow," she said.
April kissed her mother on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Mom," she said, then went to her bedroom.
Riley felt a new wave of pain and exhaustion. She realized that she'd better get to bed or she'd fall asleep right there on the couch.
She picked herself up and walked toward her bedroom. She was already in her nightgown, and she didn't bother to stop at the bathroom to brush her teeth. She just wanted to go straight to bed.
When she entered her bedroom and turned on the light, something caught her eye immediately. Her heart skipped a beat.
There, in her bed, was something awry.
It was a handful of small pebbles.
Coming in February!
Book #2 in the Riley Paige series
Please visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to join the email list and be the first to know when it releases!
Blake Pierce
Black Pierce is an avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres. ONCE GONE is Blake's debut novel. Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to join the email list, receive a free book, receive free giveaways, connect on Facebook and Twitter, and stay in touch!
