Once Forsaken (A Riley Paige Mystery—Book 7) Read online

  She did a search for recent obituaries that mentioned Byars College, and soon came up with six. One of those had died in a hospital after a long battle with cancer. Of the others, she recognized the photos of three young people. They were Deanna Webber, Lois Pennington, and Cory Linz. But she didn’t recognize the young man and the young woman in the other two obituaries. Their names were Kirk Farrell and Constance Yoh, both sophomores.

  Of course, none of the obituaries stated that the deceased had committed suicide. Most of them were pretty vague about the actual cause of death.

  Riley sat back in her chair and sighed.

  She needed help. But who could she turn to? She still didn’t have access to the techies at Quantico.

  She shuddered at one possibility.

  No, not Shane Hatcher, she thought.

  The criminal genius who had escaped from Sing Sing had come to her aid on more than one case. Her failure—or was it her reluctance?—to recapture him had stirred considerable consternation among Riley’s superiors at the BAU.

  She knew perfectly well how to contact him.

  In fact, she could do it right now, using her computer.

  No, Riley thought with another shudder. Absolutely not.

  But who else could she turn to?

  Now she remembered something Hatcher had told her when she’d been in a similar situation.

  “I think you know who to talk to at the FBI when you’re persona non grata. It’s somebody else who doesn’t give a damn about the rules.”

  Riley felt a tingle of excitement.

  She knew exactly whose help she needed.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Riley picked up her phone and dialed.

  The answering voice said, “Roff here.”

  The socially inept computer geek was a technical analyst in the Seattle FBI field office. Van Roff had helped with her last case and, like other professional geeks she’d known, he positively relished any opportunity to bend or even break the rules.

  Riley spoke excitedly.

  “Van, I need your help. And I’m afraid it isn’t exactly legitimate or sanctioned by the powers that be.”

  Before Riley could explain, Roff interrupted her very loudly.

  “Hey, Rufus, old buddy! How’s Cancún treating you? Listen, I hope you’re staying safe, not catching any of them tropical diseases, if you know what I mean. You’re wearing a condom, right?”

  Baffled, Riley stammered, “Uh, what?”

  Roff said, “Listen, Rufus, I’m sure you’ve got all kinds of raunchy stories, and I can’t wait to hear them. Vicarious sex is pretty much all I get these days. But I can’t talk right now. I’ll get back to you later.”

  Then he hung up.

  Riley stared at her phone. It took a moment for her to realize what had just happened.

  Of course. He’s not alone.

  Higher-ups in the Seattle FBI tried to keep a close eye on Roff. Perhaps they were even listening in on his phone or monitoring his computer.

  She was sure it was a game the computer geek enjoyed playing. He would be happy with the challenge of evading oversight and looking into whatever interested him.

  Anyway, Riley felt sure that he would get in touch with her whenever he could. She hoped it wouldn’t be very long.

  *

  A little while later, Riley joined Gabriela, April, and Jilly for dinner.

  “How’s the case going?” April asked eagerly as Riley sat at the table.

  “Well, it’s not exactly a ‘case,’” Riley said.

  “But you’re working on it, right? Are you trying to find out what happened to those girls?”

  Riley hesitated. How much should she tell April of her activities today?

  “I’m working on it,” she said. “But I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

  April’s smile made Riley feel a bit better. At least her daughter wasn’t angry with her anymore. Riley just hoped that April wouldn’t wind up disappointed. Although Riley was feeling sure that there was something to be investigated, she was a long way from making any progress. She would need to know a lot more in order to open an official case. And she suspected she was going to have to shed light on matters that some families wanted kept in the dark.

  April and Jilly chatted cheerfully about one thing or another over dinner. At one point, April got out her cell phone and brought up questions for a test Jilly had coming up. April began to quiz her.

  “Girls, not during supper, please,” Riley said.

  Riley was a bit surprised to hear Gabriela disagree with her.

  “No, it is good. The girls studying is good, at the table or anywhere else.”

  Riley smiled. Yes, she supposed that this was good. She realized that Gabriela was keenly aware of Jilly’s teetering on an edge between a desperate life and a happy one. And Gabriela would also know what kind of difference a good education could make.

  So she said, “OK, study away. Anywhere, anytime.”

  Riley was pleased that the two girls were bonding wonderfully. And Jilly was getting truly excited about school.

  The house phone rang during dinner. Riley got up and answered it. It was Ryan.

  “Hi,” she said. “Are you on your way? I can save some dinner for you.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t get in until very late tonight,” he said. “I’ve got a huge amount of work to do. I hope that’s OK.”

  Riley stifled a sigh.

  “It’s OK,” she said.

  She ended the call and went back into the kitchen.

  “Was that Dad?” April asked. “When’s he getting home?”

  “He says he’ll be late,” Riley said, sitting back down.

  April’s smile suddenly vanished.

  Riley was sad to see April’s change of mood. She knew that Ryan was often overloaded with work. Like herself, he would sometimes have to be away.

  But she and April both had too many memories of Ryan simply losing interest in his own family. Things had been so good lately, and Ryan had seemed like a changed man. Riley still hoped that this time would be different.

  *

  Later that night, Riley had a text message from Van Roff. It gave her his video address and said he was free to talk. Riley dialed him up. She was glad to see the hulking, overweight man appear on the screen.

  “Hey, Rufus!” Roff said. “How’s Cancún? Got lots of condoms handy?”

  “Very funny,” Riley said.

  “So what are you up to that the powers that be wouldn’t approve of?”

  “I’m checking into suspicious deaths at a school near here. Byars College.”

  “I’m guessing this isn’t an official investigation, since you’re not using BAU services.”

  “The official word on three of them is that they’re suicides. “If that’s true, it’s fifty-seven times the natural average.”

  Roff scratched his chin.

  “An outlier maybe?” he asked.

  “I’ve got a hunch it’s not. “

  Roff nodded.

  “Well, outliers are outliers, hunches are hunches. I’ve learned to trust instincts over statistics most of the time.”

  Riley could see that Roff was already typing away.

  “Byars College, you say? Right there in DC?”

  “That’s right. I interviewed Dean Willis Autrey about them, but he wasn’t exactly forthcoming. I also talked to Congresswoman Hazel Webber, the mother of one of the victims. She was definitely hiding something. And she sicced a couple of her goons on me to teach me a lesson.”

  Roff was still typing.

  “How did that work out?”

  “Not too well—for them.”

  Roff chuckled as he worked.

  “Wish I could have seen that!”

  He stopped typing and said, “Okay, I see the obits you’re talking about.”

  Riley said, “Pennington, Webber, and Linz are supposedly suicides. The two I don’t know anything about are Kirk Farrell and Constance Yoh, both soph
omores.”

  Roff typed for another few minutes, then stopped. He looked surprised.

  “Holy smoke!” he said.

  “What’s the matter?”

  Roff shook his head as if in disbelief.

  “So that dean told you there had only been three suicides this year at Byars?”

  “He didn’t exactly tell me anything.”

  “Well, you’d better revise your figures. It’s more like ninety-six times the national average.”

  Roff explained, “There have been five so-called suicides so far during this school year, not three. Kirk Farrell supposedly shot himself at his home in Atlanta. Constance Yoh hanged herself at her home near DC.”

  Riley’s mouth dropped open. “Five, not three,” she said.

  “Well, suicides can be contagious. Especially among young people all living in the same environment.”

  “I know,” Riley said. “But I don’t think that’s what this is.”

  “Then you have a very serious problem on your hands.”

  “Van, send me what you have. And can you get me contact information for the families of the students I didn’t already know about?”

  “Will do. I’ll email them to you in a jiffy.”

  Riley thanked Roff for his help, and they ended the call. Riley sat for a moment poring over the new information. Did she now have enough information to persuade Meredith that this was an FBI case?

  She sighed. Probably not. At least not now that Walder was complaining about her activities. She had to get more evidence. And she had to handle things delicately.

  Anyway, the hour was late, and there wasn’t anything else she could do right now.

  *

  Riley didn’t sleep well that night. Ryan didn’t come in at all. He had sent her a text message that he would spend the night at his house and go to his DC office this morning.

  The next morning after the kids had gotten off to school, she sat down with the information that she had on the student deaths and thought about what to do next.

  Should she try contacting any of the other families?

  Riley shuddered at the idea. Her visits to both the Penningtons and the Webbers had been disasters. She had no reason to think she’d fare better with the others.

  But what else could she do?

  She summoned up her nerve, picked up the phone, and dialed the number for Cory Linz’s family.

  The man who answered the phone introduced himself as Conrad Linz.

  Riley said, “Mr. Linz, this is Agent Riley Paige with the FBI, and—”

  Conrad Linz interrupted before she could finish her sentence.

  “The FBI! Is this about our daughter’s death?”

  “Yes, it is. You see—”

  “Just a moment, let me get my wife on the line.”

  Riley heard him call out, “Olivia, it’s the FBI!”

  In a moment, the woman was on the line.

  “Oh, please, please tell us you’re investigating what happened to poor Cory!”

  Her husband added, “Neither the police nor the school have been any help at all.”

  Riley gulped. What should she say to them?

  “It’s a little hard to discuss this on the phone,” Riley said. “Perhaps I could come by your house. How’s this morning?”

  Conrad said, “I was just getting ready to go to work, but I’ll stay home to meet with you.”

  “I’ll be here too,” Olivia said.

  “Good. I see that you live in Mirabel. I’m driving from Fredericksburg. I should be able to get there soon.”

  The couple thanked her frantically. They sounded as if they were in tears.

  When Riley ended the call, she was almost in tears herself.

  She scrambled around her room, getting ready to go. Meeting with these people might give her the break she needed.

  But what was she going to tell them? Was she going to lie again, pretend that she was working with the FBI? Or was she going to tell them the truth—that she was investigating on her own, in defiance of orders?

  CHAPTER TEN

  The interstate traffic on the way to Mirabel was heavy but moving fast. As Riley drove, she struggled with her decision.

  What should I tell the Linzes? she kept wondering.

  It was one thing to trick her superiors—she sometimes avoided the complete truth even with Brent Meredith. Her bosses and colleagues knew that she frequently worked outside the box and followed her own rules. And she knew and accepted that there could be professional consequences for her willfulness—reprimands and even suspension. It was all part of how she did business. And her maverick methods had paid off with a high rate of success.

  But could she lie to a grieving couple?

  That was a line that she couldn’t remember crossing before.

  And yet, the more she thought about it, the more she felt that she had no other choice. If she admitted that she was going rogue in any way, the Linzes would be baffled, perhaps horrified.

  If she could get enough information from them, maybe she could finally persuade Meredith to take the case.

  Riley hoped that the end wound up justifying the means.

  When Riley drove into Mirabel, she saw that it was a community of brand new homes with carefully manicured lawns and gardens already in place. Even with scattered patches of snow, the whole area seemed strangely toylike. Like many of the other houses, the Linzes’ home was of a brick Colonial style with a wide, welcoming front porch.

  I didn’t know they built them like this anymore, Riley thought.

  Olivia Linz welcomed Riley at the door. She was a tall, immaculately dressed woman with short, neatly arranged hair. She had a ruddy, healthy complexion, and Riley was startled to see a bright smile on her face.

  “Oh, come in, come in!” she said before Riley had a chance to introduce herself or show her badge.

  She led Riley into a high-ceilinged living room with a fire burning in the fireplace. Olivia’s husband, Conrad, also tall and well-dressed with a glowing expression, stood up and shook Riley’s hand. Like his wife, he was smiling pleasantly.

  “Sit down, please!” he said.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Olivia asked. “I’ve got some herbal tea ready—lemon, rosehip, and peppermint.”

  Riley was taken a little aback. The Linzes were treating her exactly as if she were here on a social visit. She wasn’t used to this kind of hospitality from bereaved families. But for some reason, she couldn’t refuse the offer.

  “Yes, I would like some tea, thank you,” she said.

  Olivia went into the kitchen. Riley saw a pair of baby grand pianos sitting back to back at a far end of the room. Conrad noticed Riley’s interest.

  “Olivia’s a piano teacher,” he explained casually. “She performs her own recitals once in a while, and she’s very good. I wish I had some musical talent. I wasn’t a bad saxophonist when I was a kid, but it never went anywhere. I’m not the least bit artistic—not like Olivia. So I became an accountant. Numbers are boring, but so am I, I’m afraid.”

  He let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

  Riley was feeling more puzzled by the moment.

  Small talk? she wondered. When I’m here to talk about how his daughter died?

  Riley almost wondered if she’d come to the right address. Maybe this was all a bizarre and embarrassing misunderstanding.

  Nevertheless, Riley forced herself to smile.

  Olivia came back with a silver tray holding a teapot and three china cups. She sat, setting the tray down where everyone could reach it. Riley poured herself some tea and sipped. It was delicious, but she’d really have preferred something with caffeine.

  “But tell us,” Olivia said eagerly. “Why did the FBI get interested in what happened to poor Cory?”

  “Yes, we’re surprised,” her husband chimed in. “The police were so closed-minded. And we were under the impression that the FBI usually takes on cases only when local police ask them to.”


  They both seemed upbeat and excited.

  The whole situation struck Riley as surreal. She remembered how frantic the couple had sounded on the phone. So where were those feelings now?

  “Yes, that’s usually true,” Riley began uncertainly. “But this situation is …”

  Her voice drifted off.

  The couple’s bright, alert eyes—Olivia’s blue, Conrad’s green—took her completely off guard.

  Riley suddenly realized something.

  However odd the Linzes emotional reactions might strike her …

  They’re completely sincere. Completely honest.

  She simply couldn’t lie to them.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Linz—”

  “Conrad, please,” the husband said.

  “And Olivia,” the wife added.

  Riley fell silent for a moment, considering the best way to tell them the truth. She took out her badge and showed it to them.

  “I think I’d better explain something,” she said. “First of all, please believe that I really am an FBI agent, from the BAU in Quantico. But the truth is, your daughter’s death is not an official BAU case. Not yet, anyway. And I’m—I’m not here in an official capacity. In fact …”

  Riley gulped. For some reason, she felt compelled to be completely honest.

  “I’m not supposed to be investigating your daughter’s death at all.”

  Olivia and Conrad tilted their heads with curiosity. But neither of them seemed the least bit alarmed or upset.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Olivia said.

  “Nor do I,” her husband said.

  Riley thought carefully about what to say.

  “Well, you might say I’m here in a strictly personal capacity. I found out from my daughter that a girl—not your daughter—hanged herself last weekend. She was also a student at Byars College. I looked into it and found out that a total of five Byars students—including your daughter—have supposedly committed suicide so far during this school year.”

  Olivia and Conrad glanced at each with amazement.