many women he had killed. There might be many more corpses yet to be found. And until Marie and Riley had been captured and lived to tell about it, nobody knew about how he liked to torment women in the dark with a propane torch. And nobody else was willing to believe that Peterson was still alive.
The whole thing was really getting her down. Riley was known for her ability to get into the minds of killers – an ability that sometimes scared her. Even so, she’d never been able to get into Peterson’s mind. And as of right now, she felt that she understood him even less.
He had never struck Riley as an organized psychopath. The fact that he left his victims in shallow graves suggested quite the opposite. He was no perfectionist. Even so, he was meticulous enough not to leave clues behind. The man was truly paradoxical.
She remembered something that Marie had said to her shortly before her suicide …
“Maybe he’s like a ghost, Riley. Maybe that’s what happened when you blew him up. You killed his body but you didn’t kill his evil.”
He wasn’t a ghost, and Riley knew it. She was sure – more sure than ever – that he was out there, and that she was his next target. Even so, he might as well be a ghost as far as she was concerned. Aside from herself, nobody else even believed that he existed.
“Where are you, you bastard?” she whispered aloud.
She didn’t know, and she had no way to find out. She was completely stymied. She had no choice but to let the whole thing go for now. She closed the folder and put it back in its place in her filing cabinet.
Then her office phone rang. She saw that the call was coming through on a line shared by all the special agents. It was the line that the BAU phone bank used to forward appropriate call-ins to agents. As a rule of thumb, whichever agent picked up such a call first would take the case.
Riley glanced around at the other offices. Nobody else seemed to be in at the moment. The other agents were all either taking a break or out working other cases. Riley answered the phone.
“Special Agent Riley Paige. What can I do to help you?”
The voice on the line sounded harried.
“Agent Paige, this is Raymond Alford, Chief of Police in Reedsport, New York. We’ve got a real problem here. Would it be okay for us to do this by video chat? I think maybe I could explain it better. And I’ve got some images that you’d better see for yourself.”
Riley’s curiosity was piqued. “Certainly,” she said. She gave Alford her contact information. A few moments later she was talking to him face to face. He was a slender, balding man who appeared to be well along in years. At the moment, his expression was anxious and tired.
“We had a murder here last night,” Alford told her. “A real ugly one. Let me show you.”
A photograph came up on Riley’s computer screen. It showed what appeared to be a woman’s body hanging from a chain over railroad tracks. The body was wrapped in a multitude of chains, and it seemed to be oddly dressed.
“What’s the victim wearing?” Riley asked.
“A straitjacket,” Alford said.
Riley was startled. Looking closer at the photograph, she could see that it was true. Then the picture disappeared, and Riley found herself face to face with Alford again.
“Chief Alford, I appreciate your alarm. But what makes you think this is a case for the Behavioral Analysis Unit?”
“Because this exact same thing happened very near here five years ago,” Alford said.
An image appeared of another woman’s corpse. She, too, was chained all over and bound in a straitjacket.
“Back then it was a part-time prison worker, Marla Blainey. The MO was identical – except that she was just dumped on the riverbank, not hung up.”
Alford’s face reappeared.
“This time it was Rosemary Pickens, a local nurse,” he said. “Nobody can imagine a motive, not for either of the women. They were both well-liked.”
Alford slumped wearily and shook his head.
“Agent Paige, my people and I are really out of our depth here. This new killing must be a serial or copycat. The trouble is, neither of those makes any sense. We don’t get that kind of problem in Reedsport. This is just a little Hudson River tourist town with a population of about seven thousand. Sometimes we have to break up a fight or fish a tourist out of the river. That’s about as bad as things usually get here.”
Riley thought about it. This actually did look like a case for the BAU. She really ought to refer Alford directly to Meredith.
But Riley glanced toward Meredith’s office and saw that he hadn’t returned yet. She’d have to alert him about this later. In the meantime, maybe she could help a little.
“What were the causes of death?” she asked.
“Throats slashed, both of them.”
Riley tried not to show her surprise. Strangulation and blunt force strike were far more common than slashing.
This seemed to be a highly unusual killer. Even so, it was the kind of psychopath that Riley knew well. She specialized in just such cases. It seemed a shame that she wasn’t going to be able to bring her skills to this one. In the wake of her recent trauma, she wouldn’t get the assignment.
“Have you taken the body down?” Riley asked.
“Not yet,” Alford said. “She’s still hanging there.”
“Then don’t. Leave it there for now. Wait till our agents get there.”
Alford didn’t look pleased.
“Agent Paige, that’s going to be a tall order. It’s right next to the train tracks and it can be seen from the river. And the town doesn’t need this kind of publicity. I’m under a lot of pressure to take it down.”
“Leave it,” Riley said. “I know it’s not easy, but it’s important. It won’t be long. We’ll get agents there this afternoon.”
Alford nodded in mute compliance.
“Have you got any more photos of the latest victim?” Riley asked. “Any close-ups?”
“Sure, I’ll bring them up.”
Riley found herself looking at a series of detail shots of the corpse. The local cops had done a good job. The photos showed how tightly and elaborately the chains were wrapped around the corpse.
Finally came a close-up of the victim’s face.
Riley felt as though her heart jumped up into her throat. The victim’s eyes bulged, and her mouth was gagged by a chain. But that wasn’t what shocked Riley.
The woman looked a lot like Marie. She was older and heavier, but even so, Marie might have looked a lot like this if she’d only lived another decade or so. The image hit Riley like an emotional blow to the gut. It was as if Marie was calling out for her, demanding that she get this killer.
She knew that she had to take this case.
