silence fell. Alford looked at his watch.
“I’ve got a press conference in about a half hour,” he said. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before then?”
Riley said, “Well, the sooner Agent Vargas and I can interview the victim’s immediate family, the better. This evening, if that’s possible.”
Alford knitted his brow with concern.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Her husband died young, maybe fifteen years ago. All she’s got is a couple of grown-up kids, a son and a daughter, both with families of their own. They live right in town. My people have been interviewing them all day. They’re really worn out and distraught. Let’s give them till tomorrow before we put them through any more of that.”
Riley saw that Lucy was about to object, so she stopped her with a silent gesture. It was smart of Lucy to want to interview the family immediately. But Riley also knew better than to make waves with the local force, especially if they seemed to be as competent as Alford and his team.
“I understand,” Riley said. “Let’s try for tomorrow morning. What about the family of the first victim?”
“I think there might still be some relatives down in Eubanks,” Alford said. “I’ll check into it. Let’s just not rush anything. The killer’s in no hurry, after all. His last murder was five years ago, and he’s not liable to act again soon. Let’s take time to do things right.”
Alford got up from his chair.
“I’d better get ready for the press conference,” he said. “Do you two want to be part of it? Have you got any kind of statement to make?”
Riley mulled it over.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s best if the FBI keeps a low profile for the time being. We don’t want the killer to feel like he’s getting a lot of publicity. He might be more likely to show himself if he doesn’t think he’s getting the attention he deserves. Right now, it’s better for you to be the face people see.”
“Well then, you can get settled in,” Alford said. “I’ve got a couple of rooms at a local B&B reserved for you. There’s also a car out front you can use.”
He slid the room reservation form and a set of car keys across his desk to Riley. She and Lucy left the station.
Later that evening, Riley sat on a bay window seat looking out over Reedsport’s main street. Dusk had fallen, and streetlights were coming on. The night air was warm and pleasant and all was quiet, with no reporters in sight.
Alford had reserved two lovely second-story rooms in the B&B for Riley and Lucy. The woman who owned the place had served a delicious supper. Then Riley and Lucy had spent an hour or so in the main room downstairs making plans for tomorrow.
Reedsport truly was a quaint and lovely town. Under different circumstances, it would be nice place for a vacation. But now that Riley was away from all talk of yesterday’s murder, her mind turned toward more familiar concerns.
She hadn’t thought about Peterson all day until now. He was out there, and she knew it, but nobody else believed it. Had she been wise to leave things like that? Should she have tried harder to convince somebody?
It gave her a chill to think that two murderers – Peterson and whoever had killed two women here – were at this very moment going about their lives however they pleased. How many more were out there, somewhere in the state, somewhere in the country? Why was our culture plagued with these warped human beings?
What might they be doing? Were they plotting somewhere in isolation, or were they comfortably passing their time with friends and family – unsuspecting, innocent people who had no idea of the evil in their midst?
At the moment, Riley had no way to know. But it was her job to find out.
She also found herself thinking anxiously about April. It hadn’t felt right to simply leave her with her father. But what else was she to do? Riley knew that even if she had not taken this case, another one would come along soon. She was simply too involved in her work to deal with an unruly teenager. She wasn’t home enough.
On an impulse, Riley took out her cell phone and sent a text message.
Hey April. How are U?
After a few seconds, the reply came.
I’m fine Mom. How are U? Have U solved it yet?
It took Riley a moment to realize that April meant the new case.
Not yet, she typed.
April replied, U’ll solve it soon.
Riley smiled at what sounded almost like a vote of confidence.
She typed, Do U want to talk? I could call U now.
She waited a few moments for April’s reply.
Not right now. I’m good.
Riley didn’t know exactly what that meant. Her heart sank a little.
OK, she typed. Goodnight. Love U.
She ended the chat and sat there, looking out into the deepening night. She smiled wistfully as she remembered April’s question …
“Have U solved it yet?”
“It” could mean any of a huge number of things in Riley’s life. And she felt a long, long way from solving any of them.
Riley stared out into the night again. Looking down at the main street, she pictured the killer driving straight through town on the way to the railroad tracks. It had been a bold move. But not nearly as bold as taking the time to hang the body from a power pole where it would be visible in the light from the warehouse.
That part of his MO had changed drastically over the last five years, from sloppily dumping a body by the river to hanging this one up for the world to see. He didn’t strike Riley as particularly organized, but he was becoming more obsessive. Something in his life must have changed. What was it?
Riley knew that this kind of boldness often represented an escalating desire for publicity, for fame. That was certainly true of the last killer she had tracked down. But it felt wrong for this case. Something told Riley that this killer was not only small and rather weak, but also self-effacing, even humble.
He didn’t like to kill; Riley felt pretty sure of it. And it wasn’t fame that spurred him to this new level of boldness. It was sheer despair. Perhaps even remorse, a half-conscious desire to get caught.
Riley knew from personal experience that killers were never more dangerous than when they started turning against themselves.
Riley thought about something Chief Alford had said earlier.
“The killer’s in no hurry, after all.”
Riley felt sure that the chief was wrong.
Chapter 10
Riley felt sorry for the county coroner, a middle-aged and overweight man, as he spread out the photos on Chief Alford’s
