Once Gone (25 page)

Riley continued flipping through the diary. Her car pulled up on the gravel driveway, but she ignored the valet, mesmerized. She stood there, hands trembling, and read all the way through to the end, desperate for any mention of the killer, of anything, any clue at all. But she was crestfallen to find none.

She began to lower the heavy book, feeling crushed. She couldn’t stand another dead end.

Just then, as she lowered it, a small piece of paper, tucked between two pages, began to slip out of the book. She caught it and studied it, curious.

As she examined it, her heart suddenly slammed in her chest.

In utter shock, she dropped the diary.

She was holding a receipt.

To a doll store.

There it was. After all the dead ends, Riley could barely believe what she was holding. At the top of the handwritten receipt was the name and address of the store: Madeline’s Fashions in Shellysford, Virginia.

Riley was stumped. It didn’t sound like a doll or toy store.

On her cell phone she found the website for Madeline’s Fashions. It was, oddly, a women’s clothing shop.

But she looked closer and saw that they also dealt in collectible dolls. They could only be viewed by appointment.

A chill ran up Riley’s spine.

This has got to be the place,
she thought.

She picked up the diary and with shaking hands, flipped through the pages to find the entry for the date on the receipt. There it was:

Just bought the perfect little doll for Debbie. Her birthday’s not for a month, but she’s so hard to shop for.

There it was, in plain English. Reba Frye had bought a doll for her daughter at a store in Shellysford. Riley felt certain that all the other victims had bought dolls there, too. And that that was where the murderer had first spotted them.

Riley pulled up a map on her phone, and it showed Shellysford a hour’s drive away. She had to get there as soon as she possibly could. For all she knew, the murderer had already spotted another victim.

But she needed to get some information in the works. And she needed to make a painful phone call that she’d put off too long already.

She took her keys from the baffled valet, jumped in her car, and pulled out, her tires screeching on the club’s manicured drive. As she sped past the gate, she punched in Bill’s cell phone number, wondering if he’d bother to answer. She couldn’t blame him if he never wanted to speak to her again.

To her relief, Bill’s voice came over the phone.

“Hello,” he said.

Riley’s heart jumped. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified to hear his voice.

“Bill, this is Riley,” she said.

“I know who this is,” Bill replied.

A silence fell. This wasn’t going to be easy. And she knew she didn’t deserve for it to be easy.

“Bill, I don’t know how to start,” she said. Her throat swelled with emotion and she found it hard to speak. “I’m so, so terribly sorry. It’s just that—well, everything had gotten so bad, and I just wasn’t in my right mind, and—”

“And you were drunk,” Bill said, interrupting.

Riley sighed miserably.

“Yes, I was drunk,” she said. “And I apologize. I hope you can forgive me. I’m so sorry.”

Another silence came.

“Okay,” Bill finally said.

Riley’s heart sank. She knew Bill better than she knew anybody else in the world. So she could hear a world of meaning in those two blunt syllables. He wasn’t forgiving her, and he wasn’t even accepting her apology—at least not yet. All he was doing was acknowledging that she
had
apologized.

Anyway, now was no time to be hashing it out. There was a far more urgent matter to take care of.

“Bill, I’ve got a lead,” she said.

“What?” he asked in a stunned voice.

“I found the store.”

Bill sounded worried now.

“Riley, are you out of your mind? What are you doing, still working this case? Walder
fired
you, for God’s sake.”

“Since when have I ever waited for permission? Anyway, it looks like I’m going to be reinstated.”

Bill snorted with disbelief.

“Who says?”

“Newbrough.”

“What are you talking about?” Bill asked, sounding more and more agitated. “Christ, Riley, you didn’t go to his house again, did you?”

Riley thoughts became jangled. There was too much to explain. She had to stick to the basics.

“No, and he was different this time,” she said. “It was weird, and I can’t get into it right now. But Newbrough gave me some new information. Bill, Reba Frye bought a doll at a store in Shellysford. I’ve got proof. I’ve got the name of the store.”

“That’s crazy,” Bill said. “We’ve had agents scouring that whole area. They’ve been to every town out there. I don’t think they even found a doll store in Shellysford.”

Riley was finding it harder and harder to contain her own excitement.

“That’s because there isn’t one,” she said. “It’s a clothing store that sells dolls, but you can only see them by appointment. Madeline’s Fashions, it’s called. Are you at the BAU right now?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then get somebody checking into the place. Get whatever you can on everybody who’s ever worked there. I’m going there right now.”

Bill’s voice was loud and frantic.

“Riley, don’t! You’ve got no authorization. You don’t even have a badge. And what if you find the guy? He’s liable to be dangerous. And Walder took your gun.”

“I’ve got my own gun,” Riley said.

“But you won’t be able to detain anybody.”

With a growl of determination, Riley said, “I’ll do whatever I have to do. Another life might be at stake.”

“I don’t like this,” Bill said, sounding more resigned now.

Riley ended the phone call and stepped on the gas.

*

Bill sat in his office staring dumbly at his cell phone. He realized that his hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure why. Anger and frustration? Or was it from fear for Riley, for whatever reckless thing she was about to do?

Her drunken phone call two nights ago had left him confused and devastated. It was something of a cliché that law enforcement partners often felt closer to one another than to their own spouses. And Bill knew that it was true. For a long time, he’d felt closer to Riley than he’d ever felt to anyone in his life.

But there was no room for romance in their line of work. Complications or hesitations on the job could have deadly results. He’d always kept things professional between them and always trusted Riley to do the same. But now she had broken that trust.

Well, she was obviously aware of her mistake. But what had she meant when she said she would be reinstated? Would they work together again? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Was the dynamic and comfortable professional rapport they’d long shared ruined forever?

But he couldn’t worry about all of that now. Riley had asked him to check on the employees of a store. He’d pass that request on, but not to Carl Walder. Bill got on the phone and called the extension for Special Agent Brent Meredith. Meredith wasn’t in the proper chain of command on this case, but Bill knew he could count on him to get the job done.

He planned to keep the call short and efficient. He had to drive to Shellysford right now and he only hoped he could get there before Riley Paige did something really stupid.

Like get herself killed.

Riley’s heart was pounding in anticipation as she pulled into the little town of Shellysford. Madeline’s Fashions was easy to spot. It was in plain view on the main street, and its name was displayed across the front window. Shellysford was a bit more upscale than she’d expected. Some apparently historic buildings had been kept in good repair, and the main street verged on elegance. The rather chic-looking clothing store fit in well with its prosperous surroundings.

Riley parked at the curb in front of the store, got out of her car, and took in her surroundings. She immediately noticed that one of the store’s window mannequins was actually holding a doll—a princess in a pink dress, wearing a sparkly tiara. The agents combing this town, though, may have easily have taken this as mere window dressing. Only a small sign in the window suggested otherwise:
Collectible Dolls Shown By Appointment.

A bell above the door rang as Riley walked inside, and the woman at the counter glanced in her direction. She looked middle-aged but remarkably youthful, and her graying hair was full and healthy.

Riley weighed her options. Without her badge, she had to be careful. True, she’d managed to get other retailers to talk to her without it. But she absolutely did not want to spook this woman.

“Excuse me,” Riley said. “Are you Madeline?”

The woman smiled. “Well, my name is actually Mildred, but I go by Madeline. I like it better. And it sounds better for the name of a store. ‘Mildred’s Fashions’ just wouldn’t have the same ring.” The woman chuckled and winked. “It wouldn’t draw quite the clientele I’m aiming for.”

So far so good,
Riley thought. The woman was open and talkative.

“Lovely place,” Riley said, looking around. “But seems like a lot of work for one person. Have you got any help? Surely you don’t do all this by yourself.”

The woman shrugged.

“Mostly I do,” she said. “Sometimes I’ve got a teenage girl who works the register while I help customers. This is a quiet day, though. There was no need for her to come in.”

Still considering the right approach, Riley walked over to a clothing rack and fingered some of the merchandise.

“Beautiful outfits,” she said. “Not many stores carry dresses like these.”

Madeline looked pleased.

“No, you’re not likely to find anything like them elsewhere,” she said. “They’re all high fashion, but I buy them from outlets when styles have been discontinued. So by big city standards, these would be yesterday’s fashion.” Then with another wink and a grin, she added, “But in a little town like Shellysford—well, they might as well be the latest thing.”

Madeline pulled a lavender-colored cocktail dress off the rack.

“You’d look wonderful in this,” she said. “It’s perfect for your coloring—and for your personality too, I suspect.”

Riley didn’t think so. In fact, she couldn’t see herself wearing any of the store’s rather posh outfits. Still, she was sure that this dress would have been more appropriate at the country club than what she was now wearing.

“Actually,” Riley said, “I was hoping to look at some of your dolls.”

Madeline looked slightly surprised.

“Did you make an appointment?” she asked. “If you did, it seems to have slipped my mind. And how did you find out about our doll collection?”

Riley pulled the receipt out of her handbag and showed it to Madeline.

“Someone gave this to me,” Riley said.

“Oh, a referral,” Madeline said, obviously pleased. “Well, I can make an exception, then.”

She walked to the back of the store and opened a wide folding door, and Riley followed her into a small back room. Its shelves were lined with dolls, and a couple of racks standing on the floor were filled with doll accessories.

“I started this little side business a few years back,” Madeline said. “I had the opportunity to buy out the stock of a manufacturer that went out of business. The owner was a cousin of mine, so when they closed down I got a special deal. I’m happy to pass on those savings to my customers.”

Madeline picked up a doll and looked it over proudly.

“Aren’t they lovely?” she said. “Little girls love them. Their parents too. And these dolls are no longer being made, so they’re truly collectibles, even though they’re not antiques. And look at all these costumes. Any of my dolls can wear any of these outfits.”

Riley scanned the rows of dolls. They looked much alike, although their hair color varied. So did their clothes, which included modern dress, princess gowns, and historical outfits. Among the accessories, Riley saw doll furniture to go with each style. The prices of the dolls were all above a hundred dollars.

“I hope you understand why I don’t keep this section open,” Madeline explained. “Most of my walk-in clients aren’t shopping for dolls. And just between you and me,” she added, lowering her voice to a whisper, “many of these smaller items are awfully easy to steal. So I’m careful about who I show all this to.”

Fluffing up a doll’s dress, Madeline asked, “By the way, what is your name? I like to know the names of all my customers.”

“Riley Paige.”

Then Madeline squinted with an inquisitive smile.

“And who was the customer who referred you?” she asked.

“Reba Frye,” Riley said.

Madeline’s face darkened.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “The state senator’s daughter. I remember when she came in. And I heard about …” She fell silent for a moment. “Oh, dear,” she added, shaking her head sadly.

Then she looked at Riley warily.

“Please tell me you’re not a reporter,” she said. “If so, I must ask you to leave. It would be terrible publicity for my store.”

“No, I’m an FBI agent,” Riley said. “And the truth is, I’m here to investigate Reba Frye’s murder. I met with her father, Senator Newbrough, just a little while ago. He gave me this receipt. That’s why I’m here.”

Madeline looked more and more uneasy.

“Would you show me your badge?” she asked.

Riley held back a sigh. She had to bluff her way through this somehow. She had to lie at least a little.

“I’m off duty,” she said. “We don’t carry badges when we’re off duty. It’s standard procedure. I just came here on my own time to find out whatever I could.”

Madeline nodded sympathetically. She seemed to believe her—or at least not to disbelieve her. Riley tried not to show her relief.

“What can I do to help?” Madeline asked.

“Just tell me anything you can about that day. Who else came in to work? How many customers came in?”

Madeline held out her hand. “May I see the receipt? For the date, I mean.”

Riley handed her the receipt.