Once Lured Read online

  “You could help with sandwiches,” Riley said.

  “I don’t think I want one,” April said.

  Riley went ahead and worked on her own sliced turkey sandwich.

  “You’re really mad at me, aren’t you?” April said.

  Riley took a long, deep breath.

  “Never mind about whether I’m mad at you,” she said. “You’d better answer some questions.”

  She could hear April gulp with anticipation.

  “Like what?” April asked.

  Riley looked her daughter straight in the eye.

  “Like what you haven’t told me about that boy. You were at his house, which is a mess. Who are his parents? Where were they?”

  April glared back at her. “I’ve never met his parents,” she said. “Why should I? He said they both work. I guess they don’t make a lot of money and don’t have a maid to keep the house clean.”

  “Why did he drop out of school?”

  “He’s been working part time but he said he needs to make more money. I think he’s looking for a full-time job.”

  “Where does he work part time?”

  “I don’t know. It isn’t his fault his parents aren’t rich and he has to help out.”

  “How did you meet him?”

  April crossed her arms and her eyes darted back and forth.

  “He was around school at the beginning of the year and we just started talking.” April drew a deep breath. “You wouldn’t understand, but he’s actually interested in what I have to say. He likes spending time with me.”

  “Does he do drugs?”

  April blinked hard.

  “No,” she said.

  “You’re lying,” Riley said. There was no doubt in her mind about it. She hadn’t been an FBI agent all these years for nothing. And she knew he daughter well enough to tell.

  “I’m not lying,” April said. She lowered her head.

  “Look at me,” Riley said.

  April slowly lifted her face and looked at Riley.

  “What about telling Gabriela you’re going to the library? You were lying about that.”

  April made no answer.

  “Did he tell you to lie about that?”

  “Of course not.”

  April’s whole face trembled. “I need time … I need my own life.” She looked away again. “So what are you going to do? Ground me forever?”

  “I’ll ground you for as long as it takes. I’ll ground you until I’m absolutely sure that you’re through with Joel.”

  April’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open.

  “What?” she gasped.

  “You heard me.”

  “That’s crazy! I mean, when is that going to happen? You think I’m lying all the time! You don’t believe anything I say! So how are you ever going to be sure I’m through with Joel?”

  Riley stared hard at her.

  “That’s what we’ve got to work on,” she said.

  April slammed her hand on the table so hard that the food and utensils jumped.

  “You’ve got to be the worst mom in the whole world,” she yelled. “You’re even worse than Crystal’s mom.”

  “April!”

  “No, really! She can’t help being like she is. You can. But it’s that goddamn job of yours, I guess. It’s ruined you. You just don’t know how to trust anybody. You have no idea how to be a mom, or any other kind of human being.”

  Riley was speechless. April stormed up the stairs to her room and slammed the door behind her.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

  Scratch sat crouched outside the cage staring at the only girl left inside. He thought her name was Kimberly. It felt odd, having kept her here all this time and still not being sure of her name.

  “Do it,” the girl said in a hoarse whisper. “Do it now.”

  Scratch knew that she meant killing her. He wished he could comply. But of course, he couldn’t kill her until Grandpa said so. And Grandpa wasn’t saying anything at all right now.

  Scratch knew that Grandpa was mad, of course. He’d been mad for days now, ever since the Irish girl had gotten away. Scratch still wondered what had become of her. And Grandpa wasn’t the least bit happy that Scratch’s most recent captive and kill turned out to be a politician’s wife. It had put their whole project at even greater risk.

  Whenever Grandpa was quiet like this, Scratch felt desperately alone.

  “I wish you’d talk to me,” Scratch said to the girl. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life not talking like this?”

  The girl said nothing.

  Scratch felt sad enough to cry. He knew he was failing in the great mission that Grandpa wanted to fulfill.

  Was anyone going to understand the message? Would all these girls starve away and die for nothing?

  When everybody was dead, who would there be for him to talk to? Grandpa might then be angry enough never to speak to him again. Grandpa might simply go away. Scratch would be all alone, the only living human in the whole world.

  Unless …

  A dim hope started to come over him. Maybe—just maybe—it was part of Grandpa’s plan that there would still be a living girl in this cage, even after the destruction came. If so, maybe she could be his companion. Maybe they could start the whole world over again together. Maybe that was what Grandpa really had in mind.

  And maybe this girl—the one who never seemed right to kill, who never got quite skinny enough—was the one who would stay with him. Maybe she would be his.

  If so, would she ever talk to him, even when he was the only man alive?

  But he mustn’t dare to hope. There was only one thing he knew for sure—that three more girls must be killed.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SIX

  That evening, Riley still felt absolutely miserable. She was staring blankly at something on the muted TV but April’s words of anger were still ringing in her ears. When the phone rang and she saw that the call was from Bill, she answered breathlessly.

  “Bill! Give me some news!”

  She heard Bill breathe a heavy sigh.

  “I’ve got news,” Bill said. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  Riley sank back in her chair, bracing herself for whatever Bill was about to say.

  “Walder’s convinced that Meara Keagan can get her memory back,” he said. “So he’s called in a psychiatrist to hypnotize her.”

  “He’s what?” Riley gasped.

  “It gets worse,” Bill said. “The shrink they’re getting is Leonard Ralston.”

  She could hardly believe her ears.

  “That’s crazy,” she said. “Ralston’s a quack. The last time Walder brought him in on a case, he got the wrong guy to sign a confession.”

  Bill let out a bitter chuckle.

  “Yeah, well, you and I both know Walder doesn’t let little things like that bother him. Ralston’s written bestselling books. He’s done his hypnotism thing on TV talk shows. Walder just loves celebrities. They can do no wrong as far as he’s concerned.”

  Riley moaned aloud.

  “What can I do, Bill?” she asked.

  “You can do exactly nothing. I’ll do everything I can to get you back on the case. Meanwhile, you’ve got to keep your distance. You could make things a lot worse for yourself.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Riley said. “I’ll stay put.”

  A silence fell between them.

  “So how are things at home?” Bill asked.

  Riley could tell by his tone of voice that he wanted to talk about something, anything, other than the case. She understood the feeling. And it seemed like an opportunity for her to open up to someone she had often trusted with her life.

  On the other hand, was she going to burden Bill with all the details about her ugly, petty situation here at home? He’d had to deal with his own share of domestic nastiness, including a bitter separation and an ongoing custody struggle over his two sons. And through it all, he’d been haunted by a case that made him feel like a
failure. No, now was not the time.

  “Things are okay,” she said.

  “Good. Well then, I’ll keep you posted.”

  Riley thanked him and ended the call. She sat on the couch staring at the silent TV. She didn’t know what show was on. But from the looks of it, it was some kind of a sitcom with the usual snarky dialogue between parents and children. The plots always involved lighthearted squabbles that were easily resolved in a half hour between commercials.

  Are there really any families like that? she wondered.

  Until today, she’d thought that Blaine and his daughter had a pretty flawless life together, right next door. But that illusion had gotten shattered in a big way. She closed her eyes and remembered looking into Phoebe’s ravaged face. Now that the whole scene was over, she could give herself over to pity for the poor woman. And now, remembering the desperation in those bloodshot eyes, Riley had the strangest feeling that she was looking in a mirror.

  She remembered what April had said before storming upstairs.

  “You’re even worse than Crystal’s mom.”

  It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Phoebe had long since failed at everything she’d hoped to do in life. Riley was at least hanging on by her fingernails. But she knew deep down that she had more in common with Phoebe than she wanted to admit.

  We’re both disappointed, she thought. Disappointed with ourselves.

  Riley had wanted to give April a better life than she had. She hadn’t wanted anyone to make April feel as small and useless as her own father had made her feel. She’d wanted April to have a happy childhood with a loving family—not like the emotionally empty years she’d passed being raised by her aunt and uncle.

  But was the life she’d given to April any better than her own? The promise of a happy two-parent household was gone, and now a Guatemalan maid was more of a mother to her daughter than Riley was. Worse still, Riley couldn’t keep April safe from the risk and danger that permeated her own life. After her captivity, April knew almost as much about violence and cruelty as Riley did. And April had even helped her mother kill the man who attacked them. Why should a teenager have to live with an act like that?

  Small wonder she thinks I’m a terrible mother, Riley thought.

  Was there anything in life that was in her control, that she could do something about?

  Suddenly she remembered Jilly, and the last phone conversation they’d had together. The poor girl had felt lonely and unwanted. Maybe if they could talk again now, they could make each other feel better.

  She quickly calculated the time difference between Virginia and Arizona. It was a little after five o’clock there. She figured it wasn’t a bad time to call.

  She picked up the phone and dialed the number for the teenage shelter in Phoenix. Once again, Brenda Fitch answered the phone.

  “Hi, Brenda, this is Riley Paige.”

  “What can I do to help you?”

  Riley was taken a little bit aback. Brenda’s voice sounded tentative and cautious.

  “Well, I was wondering if Jilly was around,” Riley said.

  There was a short pause.

  “Yes,” Brenda said.

  “Could I talk to her?”

  A longer silence fell. Riley’s heart pounded. What could be the matter?

  Finally, Brenda said haltingly, “Riley, I—we—all of us appreciate what you did for Jilly by bringing her here. You probably saved her life. It’s just that—”

  Silence again.

  “What?” Riley asked.

  “Well, Jilly was terribly upset after the two of you talked last time.”

  Riley’s spirits sank as she remembered.

  “Couldn’t I come to live with you?” Jilly had asked. “I won’t be much trouble.”

  Jilly had cried when Riley said no. Riley felt a desperate need to put things right between them.

  Brenda said, “She told me she didn’t think she wanted to talk to you anymore.”

  Riley felt a tightness in her throat.

  “Couldn’t you ask?” Riley said. “Maybe she’ll change her mind. I promise not to upset her this time.”

  “How can you promise that?” Brenda asked.

  The question stopped Riley cold. Brenda was right. How was this time supposed to be different? She still couldn’t say that Jilly could come and live with her. Talking to Riley would just hurt her all over again.

  “She’s going through a really rough time,” Brenda said. “I just don’t want to make things any worse.”

  “I understand,” Riley said.

  She almost asked Brenda to send Jilly her love. But no, that didn’t seem like such a good idea. Just knowing that Riley had called might get Jilly’s hopes up for something that could never happen.

  “Maybe it’s best not to mention that I called,” Riley said.

  “I think so too,” Brenda said.

  “But is it okay for me to call you once in a while, just to find out how she’s doing?”

  “Of course.”

  Riley and Brenda exchanged goodbyes, and the call ended.

  Riley fought down a sob. She just couldn’t let herself feel like this. She more than half wanted to jump into her car and drive straight down to Delaware. But Bill was right—she’d only make trouble for herself without helping at all.

  Meanwhile, all she wanted to do was numb the pain.

  She walked to the kitchen and pulled down a bottle of scotch from a cabinet. She opened it and poured herself a large glass. She picked up the glass and took a small sip. The burning in her throat immediately felt comforting. She gulped the rest of the glass down and poured herself another.

  CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

  Riley spread the photos of victims on the coffee table, then took another gulp of scotch. She’d put the bottle and the glass in front of her, and she expected to go on drinking for a while. It felt good. And right now, she was experiencing a familiar buzz of lucidity that she got when she had imbibed just enough but not too much. She knew it wouldn’t last long. Why not take advantage of that feeling to pore over case materials?

  She spread the photos of all the murder victims across the table. Again, it struck her as painfully obvious that the corpses’ hands were in clock positions. But not everyone agreed.

  She remembered what Walder had said.

  “Your theory’s probably wrong, anyway.”

  Was it possible that she was only imagining it? Maybe right now was the time to figure it out for sure.

  But before she could put the materials in any kind of order, the phone rang. She saw that it was an unfamiliar number. She was tempted not to answer, but for some reason she decided otherwise.

  The voice on the line said, “Riley, this is Wendy.”

  Riley half-recognized the voice and knew the name. But her mind stumbled over who this caller was.

  “Your sister,” the caller added.

  Riley gulped hard.

  “Hello,” she said. “It’s been so long.”

  “Yeah, it has.”

  A cascade of confusing emotions poured over her. Not the least of them was guilt. Wendy was ten years older and had left home when Riley was still a kid. She had made just one attempt to reach out to Riley years ago. Riley never replied to her letter. She didn’t know why, and she regretted it. Since then, she hadn’t known anything about Wendy’s life or her whereabouts.

  And now she remembered that the hospice worker in Virginia had told her that Wendy was with her father.

  Wendy said, “The hospice gave me your number. I’ve been here for a couple of days.”

  “I know,” Riley said. “They said you were being really helpful.”

  Wendy didn’t reply. Riley swallowed hard.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” she said.

  “Uh-huh,” Wendy said. “About an hour ago.”

  Riley had no idea what to say. Any questions that came to mind seemed stupid and clichéd. Did he die peacefully? Was he in pain toward the end? Did he say anyt
hing? Riley didn’t really care, and she couldn’t act like she cared.

  She suddenly felt no emotions at all. But her head was swimming a little. She hoped she wouldn’t sound like she’d been drinking.

  “We’re going to have a funeral in two days,” Wendy said. “A small service.”

  Again, Riley made no reply.

  “I’ve notified some of his marine buddies,” Wendy added. “A couple of them might be there, but I’m not sure. They sounded surprised that he’d died. I don’t know why. Maybe they thought he’d never die. Or maybe they thought he’d died a long time ago. Who knows?”

  Riley knew that Wendy was tiptoeing around a question. It seemed best just to answer it outright.

  “I can’t come to the funeral,” she said.

  Wendy sounded taken aback by Riley’s bluntness.

  “There won’t be any other family there. Everybody we’re related to has died or moved away or …”

  Her voice trailed off. In her mind, Riley finished her sentence.

  “… or just plain hated his guts.”

  She thought it best to keep that thought to herself.

  “I can’t be there,” she said again.

  “Oh.”

  Neither Riley nor Wendy said anything for a moment.

  Wendy began, “I was hoping—”

  Riley interrupted her.

  “No, Wendy, I just can’t,” she said. “I’m sorry to be like this, but I can’t. Thanks for calling. I wish you well. And thanks for being there for Daddy. Goodbye.”

  “Riley, wait,” Wendy said.

  There was such a strong note of urgency in Wendy’s voice that Riley didn’t hang up.

  “I’m sorry,” Wendy said.

  Riley was completely taken by surprise.

  “Sorry for what?” she asked.

  A moment passed before Wendy replied.

  “I can understand if you still hate me,” she said, her voice choking now.

  Riley was completely shaken now.

  “Hate you?” she gasped. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you.”

  “I don’t see how you could help it,” Wendy said. “I mean, the way I left you like that all those years ago …”

  Wendy’s voice trailed away. She sounded as if she were so overwhelmed by emotion that it was hard for her to speak.