The man was pleased to hear the woman’s soft moan. He knew she must be regaining consciousness. Yes, he could see that her eyes had opened a little.
She was lying on her side on a rough-hewn wooden table in the small room that had a dirt floor, cinderblock walls, and low timbered ceiling. She was bound up tightly in a curled up position, taped fast with duct tape. Her legs were sharply bent and tightly bound to her chest, and her hands were wrapped around her shins. Her head lay sideways on top of her knees.
She reminded him of pictures he’d seen of human fetuses—and also of embryos he sometimes found when he cracked a fresh egg from one of the chickens he kept. She looked so mild and innocent, it was somehow a rather touching sight.
Mostly, of course, she reminded him of the other woman—Alice had been her name, he believed. He’d once thought that Alice would be the only one he’d treat this way, but then he’d enjoyed it … and there were so few pleasures in his life … how could he stop?
“It hurts,” the woman murmured, as if out of a dream. “Why does it hurt?”
He knew that it was because she lay in a thick tangled bed of barbed wire. Blood was already trickling onto the table top, and it was going add to the stains in the unfinished wood. Not that it mattered. The table was older than he was, and he was the only person who ever saw it anyway.
He was hurting and bleeding some as well. He’d cut himself while getting her into the truck with the barbed wire. It was harder to do than he’d expected because she’d fought back more forcefully than the other one.
She had writhed and twisted while the homemade chloroform was starting to kick in. But her struggles had weakened and he’d finally subdued her completely.
Even so, he wasn’t much bothered to be hurt by the sharp barbs. He knew from hard experience that such cuts healed up pretty quickly, even if they did leave ghastly scars.
He stooped down and looked closely into her face.
Her eyes were opened almost impossibly wide now. Her irises twitched around as she looked back at him.
Still trying to avoid looking at me, he realized.
Everybody acted that way toward him, wherever he went. He didn’t blame people for trying to pretend he was invisible, or that he didn’t exist at all. Sometimes he’d look in the mirror and pretend that he could make himself disappear.
Then the woman murmured again …
“It hurts.”
In addition to the cuts, he was sure that her head ached badly from the heavy dose of homemade chloroform. When he’d first mixed up the stuff right here, he’d almost passed out himself, and he’d suffered from a splitting headache for days afterward. But the preparation worked very well, so he would continue using it.
Now he was well prepared for what he was about to do next. He was wearing thick work gloves now and a thickly padded jacket. He wasn’t going to hurt himself any more while getting the thing done.
He went to work on the mass of barbed wire with a pair of wire cutters. Then he pulled a length of it tightly around the woman’s body and twisted the ends into makeshift knots to hold the wire in place.
The woman let out a sharp whimper and tried to twist loose from the duct tape as the barbs tore through her skin and clothing.
As he kept working, he said …
“You don’t have to be quiet. You can scream if you want—if it helps.”
He certainly wasn’t worried about anybody hearing her.
She whimpered louder, and she seemed to try to scream, but her voice was weak.
He chuckled quietly. He knew that she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs to properly scream—not with her legs bound up against her chest like that.
He pulled another length of barbed wire around her and stretched it tight, watching as blood dripped from where each barb pierced her flesh beneath her clothes, soaking through the fabric, spreading and making spots much wider than the wound itself.
He kept right on pulling strand after strand around her until she was all bound up like some kind of enormous wire cocoon, not looking human at all. The bundle was making all kinds strange low sounds—sighs, gasps, whimpers, and groans. Blood trickled here and spurted a little there until the whole tabletop was bathed in red.
Then he stepped back and admired his handiwork.
He turned off the overhead light and walked out into the night, closing the heavy wooden door behind him.
The sky was clear and starry, and he couldn’t hear anything now except the dense rumble of crickets.
He took a long, slow breath of the clean, fresh air.
The night seemed especially sweet just now.
As Riley lined up with the rest of the interns for their final formal photograph, she heard the door to the reception room open.
Her heart leapt, and she turned around expectantly to see who had arrived.
But it was only Hoke Gilmer, the program’s training supervisor, returning after having stepped out for a few minutes.
Riley suppressed a sigh. She already knew that Agent Crivaro wouldn’t be here today. Yesterday he’d congratulated her on completing the course and said he wanted to get back to Quantico. It was obvious that he simply had no taste for ceremonies or receptions.
Her secret hope was that Ryan might show up out of the blue to help her celebrate the completion of the summer program.
Of course she knew better than to seriously expect that to happen.
Even so, she couldn’t help but fantasize that somehow he’d change his mind and he’d arrive at the last minute and apologize for his cold behavior last night and finally say those words she longed for him to say …
“I want you to go to the academy. I want you to follow your dream.”
But of course, that wasn’t going to happen …
And the sooner I get that through my head, the better.
The 20 interns formed three rows for the photograph—one row seated at a long table, with two rows standing behind them. Since the interns were arranged in alphabetical order, Riley found herself in the back row between other two other students whose last names began with S—Naomi Strong and Rhys Seely.
She hadn’t gotten to know Naomi or Rhys very well.
But then, that was true for almost all the other interns. She’d felt out of place among them ever since the first day of the program 10 weeks ago. The only student she’d gotten close to during that whole time was John Welch, who was standing a few students to her left.
On that first day, John had explained why the others were giving her odd looks and whispering to each other about her …
“Pretty much everybody here knows who you are. I guess you could say that your reputation precedes you.”
She was, after all, the only intern who already had what everybody called “field experience” under her belt.
Riley fought down another sigh at the thought of those words …
“Field experience.”
She found it weird to think of what had happened back at Lanton University as “field experience.” A nightmare seemed more like it. She’d never be able to shake off those memories of finding her two close friends with their throats cut in their blood-drenched dorm rooms.
Back then, the last thing she’d had in mind was training with the FBI. She’d gotten caught up in the case through no choice of her own—and she’d helped solve it, which was why pretty much everybody here had known who she was from the very first day.
And then when the program got underway, and all the other students had started learning about computers and forensics and other less thrilling matters, Riley had tracked down the deadly Clown Killer. Both of those cases had been traumatic and life-threatening.
Getting a “head start” on “field experience” had hardly made her popular with the other interns. In fact, their unspoken resentment had been palpable all along.
And now at least some of them envied her for moving on to the Academy.
If only they knew what I’ve been through, she thought.
She doubted that they’d envy her then.
She felt horror and guilt at the memory of her two friends being murdered at Lanton, and she wished she could turn back time and stop it from happening. Not only would her friends still be alive, but her own life would be completely different right now. She’d have a psychology degree and some kind of run-of-the-mill job and a whole lot of uncertainty about what she was going to do with the rest of her life …
And Ryan would be perfectly happy with me.
But she doubted that she would be happy. She hadn’t felt passionate about pursuing any career until the possibility of being an FBI agent came up—even if she did feel like this career had chosen her, not the other way around.
When the three rows of interns were properly posed, Hoke Gilmer told a joke to make everybody laugh while the photographer snapped their picture. Riley didn’t feel in a humorous mood, so the joke didn’t strike her as funny. She was sure that her own smile looked forced and insincere.
She also felt insecure about her own pantsuit, which she’d bought months ago at a thrift shop. Most of the other interns were better off financially than she was, and markedly better dressed. She didn’t look forward to seeing the photo that was being taken.
Then the group broke up to enjoy the snacks and refreshments arranged on another table in the middle of the room. Everybody clustered into groups of friends, and as usual, Riley felt isolated.
She noticed that Natalie Embry was clinging to Rollin Sloan, an intern who was headed straight for a high-paying job as a data analyst in a big Midwestern field office.
Riley heard a voice at her side …
“Well, Natalie sure got what she came here for, didn’t she?”
Riley turned and saw John Welch standing beside her.
She smiled and said, “Come on, John. Aren’t you being a bit cynical?”
John shrugged and said, “Are you telling me I’m wrong?”
Riley looked again at Natalie, who was flashing her new engagement ring at someone.
“No, I guess not,” Riley said to John.
Natalie had been showing off that ring to everybody ever since Rollin had put it on her finger a couple of days ago. It had been a real whirlwind romance—she and Rollin hadn’t even met before entering the summer program.
John let out a sigh of mock sympathy.
“Poor Rollin,” he said. “There but for the grace of God go I.”
Riley laughed aloud. She knew exactly what John meant. Starting on the very first day of the program, Natalie had been on the lookout for a prospective fiancée. She’d even targeted John until he’d made it clear that he really didn’t like her.
Riley wondered—had Natalie ever been interested in the program at all? After all, she’d been smart enough and accomplished enough to be accepted into the honors internship.
Probably not, she figured.
Natalie seemed to have joined the program for the same reason that some of Riley’s friends had gone to college—to catch herself a successful husband.
Riley tried to imagine how it would feel to go through life with Natalie’s priorities. Things would surely seem simpler, at least, when decisions could be so clear-cut…
Finding a man, moving into a nice house, having a few babies …
Riley couldn’t help envy Natalie’s security, at least.
Even so, Riley felt sure she’d be bored to death by such a life—which was exactly why things were bad between her and Ryan right now.
Then John said, “I assume you’re heading straight to Quantico when this is over.”
Riley replied, “Yeah. I guess you are too, right?”
John nodded. Riley found it exciting to think that she and John were among the small handful of interns who were continuing on to the FBI Academy.
Most of the rest of them looked forward to other possibilities. Some would be going to graduate school in fields that had caught their interest this summer. Others would be starting new jobs in labs or offices right here in the Hoover Building or at Agency headquarters in other cities. They could begin FBI careers as computer scientists, data analysts, technicians—jobs that offered regular hours and didn’t lead to life-threatening situations.
Jobs that Ryan would approve of, Riley thought wistfully.
Riley almost asked John how he was going to get to Quantico today. But of course she knew—he was going to drive there in his expensive car. Riley briefly considered asking him for a ride. After all, it would save her money for both a taxi and a train ticket.
But she couldn’t bring herself to do that. She didn’t want to admit to him that Ryan wasn’t even going to drive her to the train station. John was a sharp guy, and he’d surely sense that things weren’t right between her and Ryan. She’d rather he not know about that—at least not right now.
As she and John continued chatting, Riley couldn’t help notice yet again how attractive he was—rugged and athletic, with short curly hair and pleasant smile.
He was well-off and wore an expensive suit, but Riley didn’t hold his wealth and privilege against him. His parents were both prominent DC lawyers who were heavily involved in politics, and Riley admired John’s choice of a humbler life of dedicated service to law enforcement.
He was a good guy, a true idealist, and she liked him very much. They’d actually worked together to crack the Clown Killer case, covertly communicating with the riddling killer to draw him out of hiding.
Standing close to him and enjoying his smile and their conversation, Riley found herself wondering how their friendship might grow at the Academy.
They were definitely going to be spending a lot of time together …
And I’m going to be far away from Ryan …
She cautioned herself not to let her imagination run away with her. For one thing, the problems she was having with Ryan were probably only temporary. Maybe all they needed was some time apart to remind them of why they’d fallen in love in the first place.
Finally the interns finished eating and started to leave. John waved to Riley on his way out, and she smiled and waved back. Still clinging to Rollin, Natalie kept flashing her ring around all the way through the door.
Riley said goodbye to Hoke Gilmer, the training supervisor, and Assistant Director Marion Connor, both of whom had given short congratulatory speeches to the whole group a little while ago. Then she left the reception room and went to the locker room to get her suitcase.
She found herself alone in the big, empty locker room. She looked around wistfully. The room was where all the interns had gathered for meetings during the summer. She doubted that she’d ever be here again.
Would she miss the program? She wasn’t sure. She’d learned a lot here, and she’d enjoyed much of her intern experience. But she knew it was definitely time for her to move on.
So why do I feel sad? she wondered.
She quickly realized it was because of how she’d left things with Ryan. She remembered her own sharp words to him last night before she’d gone to bed …
“Enjoy the rest of your meal. There’s some cheesecake in the refrigerator. I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.”
They hadn’t spoken since that moment. Ryan had gotten up and left for work before Riley had even awoken this morning.
She wished she hadn’t spoken to him like that. But what choice had he given her? He hadn’t shown a lot of sensitivity to her feelings—to her hopes and dreams.
The weight of her engagement ring felt strange on her finger. She held her hand in front of her face and looked at it. As the modest but lovely gem sparkled under the fluorescent ceiling light, she remembered the sweet moment when Ryan had knelt shyly to propose to her.
That seemed like a long time ago now.
And after their ugly parting, Riley wondered—were they even really engaged anymore? Was their relationship over? Had they broken up without actually saying so? Was it time for her to move on from Ryan, just like she was moving on from everything else? And was Ryan ready to move on from her?
For a moment, she toyed with the idea of not catching that cab and that train to Quantico—at least not right now. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt for her to be a day late for classes. Maybe she could talk to Ryan again when he got home from work. Maybe they could put things right.
But she quickly realized …
If I go back to the apartment now, maybe I’ll never go to Quantico.
She shuddered at the idea.
Somehow, she knew that her destiny awaited her in Quantico, and she didn’t dare miss it.
It’s now or never, she thought.
She got her suitcase and headed on out of the building, then caught a cab to the train station.
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