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Once Forsaken (A Riley Paige Mystery—Book 7) Page 8
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Riley and Danica looked at each other for a moment.
Riley said, “Look, I promise to take the heat from Walder. I’ll tell him that I tricked you, told you that I was here in an official capacity.”
Danica sighed and shook her head.
“No, don’t lie on my account. You’re in enough trouble already.” Then she added with a quiet laugh, “As usual.”
Riley laughed a little too. Danica started typing on her computer.
“Anyway, you’ve convinced me,” she said. “And I’m ready to help however I can. I’ll email the report to you right now.”
Riley stammered her heartfelt thanks and left.
*
When Riley got home that afternoon, the girls weren’t home from school yet, and Ryan was still at work. Gabriela was doing some housecleaning.
Riley checked the messages on her house phone. There were two, and one of them was from Ryan.
“Hey, honey,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I’m backed up with work again. Don’t know when or if I’ll get in tonight. I hope you understand.”
Riley sighed. She was afraid she understood all too well. It was an all-too-familiar pattern with Ryan. Riley was starting to wonder if she’d made a terrible mistake letting him back into her life. She was especially worried about April, who had been so happy since he’d been around. And Jilly truly needed a father right now.
But Riley warned herself not to jump to conclusions.
Maybe Ryan really was just busy and not losing interest in his family again.
The next message really startled her.
“Special Agent in Charge Walder here. Agent Paige, you’ve got some explaining to do. Call me as soon as you get in.”
He sounded furious. Riley had a pretty good idea about why. She dialed his number. His voice was almost shaking with rage.
“Agent Paige, I just got a call from the Maryland medical examiner. He said he was just checking in with me about a case you were working on with Danica Selves. A case that I’m pretty sure doesn’t exist.”
Riley gulped. She knew she ought to apologize. But for some reason, the words just wouldn’t come.
“You lied to him,” Walder said.
“I didn’t exactly lie,” Riley said.
“Well, you certainly didn’t tell him the whole truth. And I’ll bet you weren’t exactly forthcoming with Danica Selves, either.”
Riley felt a slight ripple of relief. As long as she didn’t deny it, Danica was off the hook.
“I can explain,” Riley said.
“I’m not interested in explanations,” Walder said. “After that stunt you pulled with Congresswoman Webber, I expected you to back off. But you just wouldn’t quit. You’ve really gone too far this time. I want to see you in my office first thing in the morning.”
He hung up.
Riley stared at the phone for a moment.
What was Walder going to do—suspend her or fire her?
Oddly, Riley couldn’t get worried about it.
In fact, she found herself looking forward to tomorrow morning.
If Walder wants a showdown, he’s going to get one.
CHAPTER TWELVE
By nine o’clock the next morning, Riley was ready for the confrontation. She was prepared and eager as she knocked on the office door.
“Come in,” Special Agent in Charge Carl Walder said sternly.
With a noncommittal expression on her face, Riley stepped inside.
Walder’s spacious office was quite a bit more impressive than the man himself. He was babyish and freckled-faced, with curly, copper-colored hair, and a voice that sometimes squeaked with petulance. But his authority at the BAU was very real, and Riley knew better than to trifle with him.
“Sit down, let’s talk,” he said, mustering a stern tone.
But Riley didn’t sit down.
“Sir, if you don’t mind, I think we might need more space for this.”
Walder tilted his head back with surprise.
“More space?”
“Please join me in the conference room.”
Without another word, Riley turned and left the office. She walked away down the hall, not hastily but purposefully.
Walder quickly followed. When they reached the conference room, Riley stopped and held the door open for him.
When Walder stepped inside, his eyes widened with shock.
Riley struggled to suppress a smile.
Walder had walked straight into the ambush she had prepared for him.
Five other people were already in the room, ready to do business. One of them was Brent Meredith.
“Glad you could join us, Agent Walder,” Meredith said gruffly. “Have a seat.”
Dumbfounded, Walder sat down.
Riley sensed that Meredith was enjoying having the upper hand over his boss, at least for the moment.
Riley’s old partner, Bill Jeffreys, was there as well. He and Riley had been working together for two decades now, and Riley was glad he was here. He was grinning broadly at Riley, not even trying to hide his delight in Walder’s discomfort.
Also present were the younger agents Lucy Vargas and Craig Huang. Riley thought very highly of Lucy’s work. Huang had originally been overeager, often rubbing her the wrong way. But now he was starting to grow on her.
Sam Flores, a thin, nerdish lab technician with big black-rimmed glasses, was running the multimedia display that Riley had prepared at home the night before. At the moment, five faces were shown on the massive bank of screens.
“What the hell is all this about?” Walder muttered, struggling to regain his bearings.
“Just some information I think we should all be interested in,” Riley said, taking the floor.
She pointed to the face at the far left.
“This is Deanna Webber, the daughter of Hazel Webber, the Maryland congresswoman. On October seventh of last year, her dead body was found hanging in the family stables. The official word is that her death was a suicide. An extremely high level of the anti-anxiety drug alprazolam was found in her system.”
Riley leveled her gaze at Walder.
“But when I interviewed her mother, she told me that Deanna had died in bed in her sleep from an overdose of oxycodone.”
Walder’s face was reddening with anger.
“This is outrageous!” he said. “Hazel called and complained about your behavior. I’ve known the Webbers for years. I went to prep school with Hazel’s husband, Heath. They’re good people. They’re not liars.”
Meredith looked across the table at Walder.
In a calm, sensible voice, he said, “Then how do you explain the discrepancy? Are you suggesting that the Maryland medical examiner is lying? I think we ought to hear Agent Paige out.”
Walder let out a wordless sound, somewhere between a growl and a whine.
Riley pointed to the next picture.
“This is Cory Linz. She was found dead, hanging in the gym locker room at Byars College on October twenty-first, just two weeks after Deanna Webber’s death. She, too, had a lot of alprazolam in her system. I talked to her parents, who don’t believe that Cory’s death was suicide. For one thing, the girl was a devout Christian Scientist and never took prescription medication of any kind. She was unlikely to even consider killing herself.”
Riley signaled Flores to bring up another visual—the letter that Cory had written to her parents, with crucial passages highlighted.
“And as you can see, Cory stumbled across the truth about how Deanna really died. A female employee of the Webbers slipped up and didn’t stick to the ‘official’ story that Deanna had died in her sleep. And it sounds like she caught hell for it.”
After the group had enough time to read the letter, Flores took it down and brought up the pictures again.
Riley pointed to a photo of a young Asian woman.
“Now, this is Constance Yoh. She was found dead by hanging at home in DC on November twentieth of last year. Also a supposed suic
ide. Also with alprazolam in her system.”
Then she pointed to a picture of a smiling young man.
“This is Kirk Farrell, found dead of a gunshot wound at his home in Atlanta on November twentieth. Also a supposed suicide.”
Finally she pointed to the last picture.
“And this is Lois Pennington, found hanging in her family’s garage last Sunday. Another supposed suicide.”
Riley looked at all the faces in the group.
“Oh, and I haven’t mentioned that all of these students were currently enrolled at Byars College, a school with only about seven hundred students. Sam, could you show us some stats?”
Sam Flores brought up a sheet of statistics that Riley had prepared.
Riley said, “It seems that the suicide rate at Byars College is ninety-six times the national average. I think it’s time to stop calling them suicides. Something deadly is going on at Byars. We need to investigate.”
Walder rolled his eyes.
“This is ridiculous. I talked to the dean at Byars, Willis Autrey. He assured me that there was nothing untoward going on at his school. In fact, I think we should call him right now. He can clear things up, and we can put this whole business behind us and stop wasting agency time.”
Riley nodded. “Fine,” she said.
“Flores, get Autrey on the line,” Walder continued. “Put him on speakerphone.”
Sam Flores put through the call. Autrey’s secretary answered and quickly got Autrey on the phone.
“Willis Autrey here.”
Walder smirked self-confidently.
“Dean Autrey, this is Special Agent in Charge Carl Walder, BAU. We talked on the phone yesterday.”
Autrey chuckled.
“Oh, yes. About that rather batty dame who showed up here unauthorized. Most unfortunate. I hope you put her straight about things.”
Then with a coarse laugh he added, “A good spanking was in order, I’d say.”
Walder glanced up at Riley and blushed.
“Well, as it happens, I’m still trying to deal with her,” he said. “You see, she still thinks—”
Autrey interrupted.
“I thought I’d made it pretty clear when you and I last talked—three suicides in a single school year is unusual, but not statistically improbable.”
Walder’s face grew pale. He didn’t know what to say.
Riley cleared her throat.
“Dean Autrey, this is the batty dame speaking. Three suicides is what might be called an outlier. But as you know perfectly well, there have been two more suicides in the last few months. How interesting that you’ve neglected to mention those. Five suicides in a single year, four of them by hanging, really pushes the definition of ‘outlier.’”
A silence fell, followed by stammering.
“Pardon me,” Autrey said. “I have a rather urgent appointment.”
Autrey ended the call.
Walder’s mouth was hanging open.
He couldn’t talk for a moment.
Finally he stammered, “This is crazy. You’re accusing somebody of murder, but who? Who are your suspects? The Byars dean? His staff? The Webber family? None of that makes any sense.”
Nobody in the group replied. They just sat waiting for the man who was supposed to be in charge to say something else.
Walder threw his hands up and said, “I’m through with this. I have other important matters to attend to. Meredith, use your best judgment. Whatever you do, don’t screw it up. And keep Agent Paige on a tight leash.”
He got up and stormed out of the room.
After a moment, Meredith looked around at everybody.
“Well,” he said dryly, “looks like we can get to work.”
Everybody chuckled. Riley’s heart warmed. It was nice to know that she had good people on her side at last.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Everybody in the room breathed easier now that Walder was gone. But Riley told herself not to get relaxed. There was urgent work to do.
“This is your case, Agent Paige,” Meredith said. “You own it now. So where do we start?”
Riley looked around at the five helpful faces.
“I’m open to ideas,” she said. “Any thoughts?”
Lucy Vargas’s deep, dark eyes seemed almost to sparkle with excitement.
“I say we follow the lies,” she said. “We just heard Willis Autrey trying to evade the truth. And Congresswoman Webber lied to Agent Paige. The question is, why? What are they trying to hide?”
Craig Huang’s brow crinkled in thought.
“Autrey doesn’t strike me as a killer,” he said. “Just some administrative stooge watching out for his school’s reputation.”
“Or covering up for somebody,” Lucy said. “Like the Webber family. Maybe the victims knew something dangerous, something the Webbers didn’t want to get out. Something dangerous enough to kill for. Then they hired somebody—a professional smart enough to make the deaths look like suicides.”
Craig Huang shook his head.
“I don’t know, Lucy,” he said. “Are you suggesting that Hazel Webber had her own daughter killed?”
“It’s possible. Have you ever seen that woman on TV? She’s cold!”
Riley glanced at Bill. She could tell from his smile that he, too, was enjoying the younger agents’ enthusiasm. But the team needed more than enthusiasm to get things underway. It was time for Riley to give some marching orders.
She said, “In her letter, Cory Linz said that a Webber family employee told her the truth about what happened to Deanna. She was at the college cleaning out the girl’s room. Flores, we need to locate that woman.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Flores said.
Riley looked at the pictures still on the screen.
“We’ve got two more families to interview,” she said. “Constance Yoh lived here in DC. Kirk Farrell lived in Atlanta.”
Riley thought for a moment.
“Huang, Vargas, you go visit the Yoh family.”
“We should check out the odd one,” Bill chimed in.
Turning toward Meredith, Riley asked, “Is the company plane available?”
“If you want it to be,” Meredith said.
“Good,” Riley said. “Agent Jeffreys and I will fly down to Atlanta as soon as it’s ready.”
Riley felt a surge of gratitude toward her supportive colleagues. It was too much for her to put into words.
“That’s all for now,” she said. “Let’s get to work.”
*
A short while later, Riley sat looking out the window of the FBI jet as Quantico slipped behind her. She needed to get her mind on the case, but other thoughts kept intruding.
She heard Bill say from beside her, “You’re trying to work things out with Ryan, aren’t you?”
Riley turned to look at him. He gazed at her with concern.
“What makes you think that?” Riley asked.
Bill smiled sadly.
“You’re being awfully quiet about something,” he said. “It’s the elephant on the plane, so to speak. I had a hunch.”
Riley smiled at the bizarre image.
An elephant on the plane.
Yes, that image seemed to fit. Bill’s detective instincts were almost as good as Riley’s. She hadn’t wanted to talk to him about this, but of course he wasn’t going to let it go.
He was too good a friend to do that.
“Maybe I am,” she said.
“Maybe? That doesn’t sound too definite.”
Riley sighed.
“It’s pretty definite. He’s moving in with us—April and Jilly and Gabriela and me.”
Bill sounded surprised.
“Wow, that’s a big step. How’s it going so far?”
Riley didn’t reply. The truth was, she didn’t really know. Before she’d boarded the plane, she’d called home to make sure everything was OK. Gabriela had assured her that Ryan was coming home soon and the girls would be well looke
d after. Riley didn’t have any reason to think otherwise.
Still, things seemed to be touch-and-go right now.
“Riley, I worry,” Bill said.
“I know, Bill. And you have every right. You did more than anyone else to get me through that damned divorce. And I guess you’d be stuck with the job all over again if things go south this time.”
“That’s not what worries me.”
“I know.”
They were both quiet for a moment. The only noise was the low rumble of the plane engines. Bill squeezed Riley’s hand.
“I’m always there for you,” he said.
Then he hastily let her hand go. Riley understood why. They had long felt a mutual attraction that never quite went away, however much they tried to deny it. Each had tried to act on that attraction at one time or another. Riley cringed whenever she remembered a late-night drunken phone call in which she’d tried to talk Bill, who was still living with his family then, into having an affair.
It amazed her that their relationship had survived moments like that—both personally and professionally.
Then it occurred to her that she was being selfish right now. She knew that Bill had troubles of his own. He was still waiting out his own difficult divorce. She’d been out of touch with him for much too long.
“How are you getting along?” she asked.
Bill stared straight ahead with a pained expression.
“It’s rough,” he said.
Riley looked at him with sympathy. She didn’t want to push him to talk about it if he didn’t want to. But she was ready to listen.
Finally Bill said, “It’s not that I miss Maggie. And I’m sure she doesn’t miss me either. It was over between us a long time ago. It’s just …”
He stopped for a moment, overcome with emotion.
“Is she letting you see the boys?” Riley asked.