Once Craved (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #3) (27 page)

Riley was finding
nothing useful, and knew she had to give up the search soon. She had no legal
reason for rummaging around in the doctor’s house—nothing but her sudden
intuition about him. And what if her intuition was wrong? What if her paranoid
mind had her pinning the most respectable doctor that the police worked with?

Feeling her time
running out, she was close to panic when she pulled open a pair of cabinet
doors and heard a low humming sound. She moved a stack of toilet paper rolls
aside.

Far back inside the
cabinet was a little refrigerator. She opened its door and a light came on
inside.

The mini-fridge was
full of large white plastic bottles, not prescription vials. She reached for
one bottle and poured enormous pink pills into her hand.

It was the stolen
HIV medicine. She was sure of it. These bottles looked like they had come
straight from a manufacturer, and she knew that some of these medications
required refrigeration.

Her heart slammed in
her chest, her mind reeling as all of the pieces fell into place. Her intuition
had been right, and now her thoughts chased each other through brambles of
confusion.

Why hadn’t she
suspected Poole during her first visit? Why had she let him charm her into
liking him?

The answer was
simple. She’d let herself be fooled by conventional wisdom. It was well
understood among FBI agents that, in spite of stories about killers inserting
themselves into police investigations, it very seldom actually happened. She
hadn’t bothered to consider the possibility.

But Shane Hatcher
had considered it—based solely on what she had told him about Dr. Poole.
Hatcher knew that Poole was their man. He knew that Riley had already met the
killer.

She remembered his
sinister grin.

“You’re getting
warm.”

And now it made all
the sense in the world. What better way for Poole to cover up his own thefts of
HIV drugs? The police would never suspect the very man who was helping them—a
man with a sterling reputation for honesty and integrity.

Riley heard a sound
behind her, but before she could move something hard slammed into her back. She
fell forward and cracked her head hard on the cabinet top. Dazed, she was aware
that a knee was pressed into her back, holding her down. Then the knee moved
aside and her hands were pulled behind her back and bound. She felt something
being pulled over her head and face.

She thrashed and
tried to turn around. But then came another brutal shove, thrusting her face
against the floor. Now he was kneeling on top of her, with his weight in the
small of her back, keeping himself out of her reach. He’d done this before. He
knew how to do this. And he was stronger than he’d looked.

Riley struggled for
air, kicking madly. She could neither inhale nor exhale. The clear plastic
fogged over in front of her eyes. She was losing consciousness now. Images swam
before her eyes. She expected to find herself back in the hell of Peterson’s
cage, seeing his face lit by the propane torch. But instead, she saw her father’s
face. His expression was stern and hard. He held a knife to her face.

“Let me help you
out of this,”
he
said.

Had he come to
rescue her? No, Riley still had just enough presence of mind to know that she
was hallucinating.

“Let me help you
out of this,”
her father repeated.

And he pointed the
knife under her chin. She knew what he was about to do. He was about to gut her
from her jaw to her crotch. He was going to skin her like a squirrel—pull off
her pelt as smoothly and gracefully as helping a lady out of her coat on a
dinner date.

Am I going to let
it end like this?
she thought.

Was she going to let
her father do this to her?

Was she going to let
Dr. Poole do this?

Was she going to let
this ugly world of abuse and exploitation strip her of everything she was, and
all she hoped to be?

Riley fought her way
back into defiant consciousness. She twisted her body hard and quickly. She
felt Poole’s weight give way as he fell to one side. She felt the hastily tied
ropes on her wrists come loose, and then her hands were free.

She ripped the
plastic away from her face, and her throat and lungs burned from the intake of
air. She scrambled to her feet and turned around.

Dr. Gordy stood
facing her, and he held a gun in both hands. It was Bill’s gun.

She tried to speak,
to ask him what he’d done to Bill. But after her brush with suffocation, the
words couldn’t force their way out of her throat.

He held the gun
shakily, standing in an absurd position to fire from. She could tell at a
glance that he hadn’t fired a pistol in his life. But in these close quarters,
that didn’t make him any less dangerous than a man who went to the firing range
every single day.

She lunged toward
him, and he fired. But he was a split second too late, and she had already
deflected his arm. She heard the bullet crash harmlessly into the bathroom
tile. The gun fell from the doctor’s hand and skidded across the floor.

She took a step back
and slammed her fist into his belly. He lurched over with a loud groan. She
brought her other fist hard against the side of his head. His head crashed
against the doorframe, and he slid senselessly to the floor.

Riley shook her
hand. It hurt like hell. But she didn’t think it was broken. She got out her
handcuffs and cuffed the doctor to a safety grip bar set into the wall, certain
he wasn’t going anywhere.

Picking up the gun,
she staggered out of the bathroom and across the bedroom to the hallway.

Now at last, she was
able to call out.

“Bill! Bill!”

There was no answer.

Riley’s strength was
returning. She rushed down the hallway and into the living room. Bill was lying
on the carpet, bleeding from a head wound. A fireplace poker lay on the rug
nearby.

Riley kneeled over
her partner. He hardly seemed to be breathing, and his pulse was weak. She felt
a wave of grief, of regret, of guilt. What if he died? This man she had known
better than anyone on earth?

She called the FBI
emergency line.

“Agent down. I need
an ambulance here.”

“Got you,” the reply
came. The voice on the phone double-checked the address.

“Hurry,” Riley said,
and hung up. She checked Bill again, but she knew she shouldn’t try to move
him. She had to wait for the ambulance.

Riley stood up and
looked around the living room. She knew that if the girl was still alive, she
was probably somewhere in this house. She went back into the hallway and
started checking doors she had passed by in her search for medications. One
opened on a landing and stairs going downward into darkness.

Riley switched on a
light and hurried down the steps.

In the center of the
well-furnished basement recreation room was a thin young girl, bound to a chair
with duct tape. She’d overturned the chair and was lying on her side. Her mouth
wasn’t gagged, but Riley could tell by her eyes that she was heavily sedated.

Elation charged
through Riley’s body. The girl was alive.

She ran to Sandra
Wuttke and began to untie her.

The girl seemed to
realize what was happening. She began weeping.

“He was going to
kill me,” she said.

Riley held the girl
and rocked her.

“It’s all right now,”
she said. “He can’t hurt you again. It’s all right now.”

Riley felt tears
rolling down her own face. This girl was younger than April and her life had
nearly been cut short. In some ways, she could not help but feel as if she were
holding April, after she had just escaped from Peterson.

“He had a plastic
bag,” Sandra moaned. “He would have killed me.”

Riley stroked her
hair.

“You’re a brave
girl,” she said. “You’re going to be all right. Everything’s going to be all
right.”

She heard sirens in
the distance, the ambulance, and probably an FBI car too.

Riley only hoped
that they would get here in time for Bill.

Bill and Riley were
finishing up their debriefing with Brent Meredith in his office at Quantico.
Bill’s head was still bandaged, and he’d suffered a slight concussion, but
Riley could tell that he was doing fine now. All in all, she felt satisfied
with the wrap-up of the case in Phoenix.

“Good job, you two,”
Meredith said. Then, with a sort of half-smile to Riley, he added, “Even Agent
Morley seemed to think so.”

Riley smiled back
rather weakly. Yes, Morley had thanked her and Bill on the tarmac back in
Phoenix before their flight back here. But there hadn’t been a lot of warmth in
his thanks. He had been especially chilly toward Riley. She hadn’t found that
surprising. And she couldn’t quite blame him.

Meredith swiveled
back and forth in his office chair. Riley recognized it as the chief’s signal
that the meeting was coming to an end. He looked at Riley and shook his head a
little.

“Agent Paige, on
your next case, I hope you make things easier on my end. I covered for you a
lot. And for future reference, our jet is not for your private use.”

Now Riley blushed a
little.

“I owe you, sir,”
she said.

“Yes, you do,”
Meredith said.

Indeed, she knew
that she did. She had Meredith to thank that she hadn’t been kicked off the
case—or kicked out of the Bureau, for that matter. What had she been thinking,
going AWOL in the middle of a case?

But of course, she
knew what she had been thinking. She’d been thinking about April. At that
moment, her daughter had truly meant more to her than her job. Did she still
feel that way?

Yes, she did.

I’m not my
father, after all,
she realized.

Meredith asked, “Was
the second trip, the one to Sing Sing, actually useful?”

Riley considered the
question for a moment. No doubt about it, Hatcher had identified the killer,
even if he’d only said so in riddles. Still, the idea of having to meet him
again felt intolerable to Riley.

“I don’t plan to
consult with him anymore,” she said.

Meredith rose from
his desk, a cue that the meeting was over.

Bill and Riley left
the building. They said nothing for a few moments as they walked. Much of the
plane trip back had been like that.

“I could drive you
home,” Bill said.

“It’s OK, my car is
here,” Riley said. She had left her own car at Quantico when they had first
left for Phoenix. Now it felt like that had been ages ago.

“Maybe we could stop
somewhere for a drink or something to eat,” Bill said.

Riley wasn’t sure
just what Bill was after. After his awkward pass at her last week, was he still
trying to strike some romantic sparks between them? Maybe not. Maybe he really
wanted nothing more than a few relaxed moments with a friend and colleague.

Either way, Riley
wasn’t really in the mood.

“We did some good
work together in Phoenix,” she said. “Let’s call it a day.”

Looking a bit sad,
Bill said, “OK, then.”

Bill started walking
away.

Riley called after
him. “Bill. I like working with you.”

Bill called back. “The
feeling’s mutual.”

She and Bill walked
their separate ways. As Riley drove home, she wondered where things really
stood between them. She was glad that they were back in the swing of things as
a team again. But there was still unresolved tension between them.

The truth was, Riley
now wondered how she felt about men in general. Her experiences in Phoenix had
soured her. Pimps like Jaybird and rich misogynists like Calvin Rabbe didn’t
inspire her with a lot of trust. Neither did Garrett Holbrook, who had been so
enchanted by his carefree bachelor life that he’d abandoned his own sister.
Even Bill had turned Riley’s stomach by getting turned on by the sight of her
dressed up as a hooker.

Maybe I’m through
with men for good,
she thought.

*

Riley relaxed on the
back deck of her townhouse, enjoying the neighborhood sights and sounds. She’d
turned down Gabriela’s offer of fresh lemonade, opting for soda instead. She
was afraid that, for a long time to come, lemonade was going to remind her of a
murderer who had at first fooled her completely.

In her mind she
could still hear Dr. Gordy’s
goshes
and
oh my goodnesses
, and she
could still see his face when he’d attacked her.

But April and
Crystal, the girl from next door, were drinking Gabriela’s lemonade. They were
sitting down in the yard watching a movie on April’s laptop. They kept laughing
and pointing to the screen.

Even without the
lemonade, Dr. Gordy kept pushing his way into Riley’s mind. Luckily, the man
was in jail and the case against him was solid. He would never be free again.
In fact, Arizona had the death penalty for those convicted of multiple
homicides, so Dr. Gordy’s arrogance would eventually come to a complete end.

Unfortunately,
neither his incarceration nor his death would do anything for the three women
he’d killed. Maybe it would be helpful to the two others he had terrorized, and
it would certainly benefit those he’d never gotten a chance to take.

Riley briefly
wondered if Socorro had gone back to prostitution or had found some better way
to support her kids. There were organizations in Phoenix that would help her
make a lifestyle change if she wanted to do it.

April came up the
stairs to the deck and interrupted her ruminations. She poured herself more
lemonade from the pitcher that Gabriela had left on the table. Her friend
Crystal was still down in the yard, glued to the computer.

“Are you thinking
about your case?” April asked.

Riley managed to
smile a little. “Please don’t worry about me, sweetie. Go back and watch your
movie.”

“Hey, after all we’ve
been through together, you can tell me about it.”

Then April shrugged.

“Besides, it’s a
stupid movie,” she said, sitting down next to Riley.

Riley sighed.

“I can’t help
wondering what will become of some of the people I met. Especially the young
girls.”

“Like the one you
rescued from the killer?”

“Yes. At least Sandy
is back in a shelter now.”

“From what you’ve
told me, she for sure won’t run away again.”

Riley didn’t reply.
She hoped April was right. But April hadn’t seen all that she’d seen lately—the
hopeless faces of women like Chrissy, who simply couldn’t comprehend a better
life, and the vacant stares of much younger girls who were already starting to
lose all hope. She fell quiet for a few moments.

“There was another
girl,” Riley said. “I took her from a truck stop to a shelter. Her name’s
Jilly, and she never had a decent break in her life up until now. Thank
goodness, she’s getting the best help anyone could give her. Both Jilly and
Sandy will need some time, but they’ll have a chance now. They’ll have a
choice.”

She could hear Shane
Hatcher’s words again.

“It’s all about
choice.”

Her own choice, she
decided, was to never call on Hatcher’s help again. There was no denying that
he had helped her find her way through puzzling crimes, but his advice sprang
from a darker place than she had ever encountered. She didn’t want to go there
ever again.

Her thoughts were
interrupted by the doorbell ringing. She heard Gabriela answer the door and
tell somebody, “They’re out back.”

April stood up to
see who had come in.

She then looked back
at Riley, looking deflated.

“It’s Dad,” she said
in a flat, emotionless voice.

Riley felt like
fleeing the scene, but she didn’t move. How dare he show up now, after ignoring
April when she’d needed him so badly?

When Ryan came out
onto the deck, she stared coldly up at him and said, “What the hell do you
want?”

Ryan put one arm
around April and said, “I’m so glad you’re OK, honey.”

He turned to Riley
and added, “I’m sorry, Riley. I know I was being rotten when you called me.”

When Riley made no
reply, he added, “It seems like you never want to talk to me unless you need
something.”

Riley replied, “Your
daughter needed something.”

“I know. I hope you
both can forgive me.”

April ducked out
from under his arm and went back down to the yard to join Crystal.

Without being
invited, Ryan turned the empty chair and sat down facing Riley. Riley was
studiously ignoring him.

“You’ve got a nice
place here,” he said. “I’m glad you got out of that little dump in the country
where you lived before.”

Riley knew that he
was reminding her that she had him to thank. And it was true. She had been able
to buy this townhouse that she and April and Gabriela all loved because Ryan
was being generous with child support. Her ex-husband wasn’t stingy with his
money—just with himself.

“Yes,” she said
reluctantly. “We’re all happy here. Now I have an easy drive to Quantico and
April has no problem getting to school.”

Riley finally looked
directly at him. She realized that Ryan looked good. He was as handsome as
ever.

He leaned forward
and spoke earnestly. “I miss you both. I think we should see more of each
other. After all, we were together for a long time. We’re still a family.”

Riley could hardly
believe what she was hearing.

“What happened to …”
Riley couldn’t remember the name of the woman Ryan had been seeing.

“It wasn’t the same
with her.”

Riley’s jaw dropped
a little.

He wants me back,
she realized.

Didn’t he have any
idea how through with him she was?

“Well,” she said, “I’m
sure you’ll find the right woman someday.”

Now Ryan looked
hurt. But Riley was determined not to show him any sympathy.

She said, “You say
we’re still a family. But we were never a family—at least not all three of us.
You were never there.”

“I can change,” Ryan
said.

“Face facts, Ryan.
You’re never going to change. April and I both gave you every chance, for years
and years. It’s not going to happen.”

She sensed that her
bitterness showed in her face.

Ryan looked out over
the backyard.

“I guess you’re
probably enjoying your freedom,” he said.

Riley groaned. That
was him all over, reducing her motives to his own level. She had a world of
reasons not to get back together with him, but he had to believe that this was
the most important one. Still, he wasn’t entirely wrong.

She said, “As a
matter of fact, I
am
enjoying my freedom. And you’re not going to be
part of it.”

Before Ryan could
reply, the doorbell rang again. In a few moments, Gabriela appeared, joined by
their next-door neighbor, Blaine Hildreth—Crystal’s father.

Gabriela’s eyes were
gleaming. Unable to suppress a giggle, she turned and hurried away.

Blaine took one look
at Ryan and Riley and stopped in his tracks.

“Oh,” he said. “I
didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Actually, you are,”
Ryan said gruffly.

Oh Jesus,
Riley thought.
Is this going
to turn into a testosterone-fueled pissing contest?

Ryan was the taller
of the two, and the better dressed in his expensive, casual clothes. But Riley
didn’t find him the least bit attractive at the moment. Blaine was younger, and
he seemed livelier, more engaged with the world. And at the moment, he was
showing much better manners.

“Actually, you’re
not,” Riley told Blaine. “Ryan was just leaving.”

Ryan glared at her,
looking completely defeated, and a smoldering rage forming behind those eyes. A
look meant to intimidate.

Riley, though, was
through being intimidated. She remembered how she’d blocked her father’s punch
and had finally stood up to him. The memory stuck with her, and it was oddly
empowering. After all these years, Ryan still had no idea who he was dealing
with, what she was capable of.

She held his gaze
and glared back.

She repeated in a
commanding voice, “
Weren’t
you, Ryan?”

From the look on his
face, Riley was pretty sure he’d gotten the message. Without a word, he stood
up and stalked back through the house. She heard the front door close behind
him.

“Well, I guess I’ve
just met your ex,” Blaine said.

Riley laughed a
little. “That was him.”

Blaine chuckled as
well. “How did things go in Arizona? Any new stories to tell?”