Then he finally said, “When I got your texts, I just didn’t know whether I was ready. I called Meredith for details, but I still didn’t know if I was ready. Hell, I didn’t know if I was ready when I started driving down here. I didn’t know if I was ready until just now when I saw…”

He pointed to the body.

He added, “Now I know. I’m ready to get back to work. Count me in.”

His voice was firm and his expression looked like he really meant it. Riley breathed a huge sigh of relief.

She led Bill back over to the officials clustered around the body in the hole. She introduced him to the chief and the medical examiner.

Jenn already knew Bill and she looked glad to see him, which pleased Riley. The last thing Riley needed was for Jenn to feel marginalized or resentful.

Riley and the others told Bill what little they knew so far. He listened with a look of keen interest.

Finally Bill said to the ME, “I think it’s OK to take away the body now. That is, if it’s OK with Agent Paige.”

“It’s fine with me,” Riley agreed. She was happy that Bill seemed like his old self now and eager to assert some authority.

As the ME’s team began to extract the body from the hole, Bill surveyed the area for a moment.

He asked Riley, “Have you checked out the site of the earlier murder?”

“Not yet,” she replied.

“Then we should do that,” he said.

Riley said to Chief Belt, “Let’s go have a look at your other crime scene.”

The chief agreed. “It’s a couple of miles into the nature preserve,” he added.

They all managed to push past the reporters again without commenting. Riley, Bill, and Jenn got into the FBI SUV, and Chief Belt and the ME took another car. The chief led them away from the beach, along a sandy road into a wooded area. When the road ended, they parked their cars. Riley and her colleagues followed the two officials on foot along a trail leading through the trees.

The chief kept the group to one side of the trail, pointing to some distinct footprints here in the firmer soil.

“Just your everyday sneakers,” Bill commented.

Riley nodded. She could see those prints going in both directions. But she felt sure they wouldn’t offer much information except for the killer’s shoe size.

However, some interesting marks were interspersed with the footprints. Two wobbly lines were dug into the soil.

“What do you make of these lines?” Riley asked Bill.

“Tracks from a wheelbarrow, coming and going,” Bill said. He glanced back over his shoulder toward the road and added, “My guess is the killer parked about where we’re parked now and brought his tools along this path.”

“That’s what we figured too,” Belt agreed. “And he left again this way.”

Soon they came to a spot where their path intersected a narrower one. In the middle of the smaller path was a long, deep hole. It was about the width of the path itself.

Chief Belt pointed to where the new path emerged from the surrounding trees. “The other victim seems to have come jogging along from that direction,” he said. “The hole was camouflaged, and she fell into it.”

Terzis added, “Her ankle was badly broken, probably from the fall. So she was helpless when the killer started piling dirt back in on her.”

Riley shuddered again at the thought of that kind of horrible death.

Jenn said, “And all this happened yesterday.”

Terzis nodded and said, “I’m pretty sure the time of death was identical to the murder on the beach – probably around six o’clock in the morning.”

“Before the actual sunrise,” Belt added. “It would have been quite dim. A jogger who came along here after dawn saw how the dirt had been disturbed and called us.”

While Jenn started taking more photos, Riley scanned the area. Her eyes fell on some flattened brush that had been crisscrossed by the wheelbarrow tracks. She could see where the killer had piled up dirt about fifteen feet away from the trail. The trees were fairly thick beside these pathways, so a runner wouldn’t have seen either the killer or the dirt as she’d come running in this direction.

Now the hole had been re-excavated by the police, who had piled the dirt right next to it.

Riley remembered that Meredith had mentioned this victim’s name back at Quantico, but she couldn’t recall it at the moment.

She said to Chief Belt, “I take it you were able to identify the victim.”

“That’s right,” Belt said. “She still had plenty of ID on her, just like Todd Brier did. Her name was Courtney Wallace. She lived in Sattler, but I didn’t know her personally. So I can’t tell you anything much about her just yet, except she was young, probably in her early twenties.”

Riley knelt down beside the hole and looked inside. Right away, she could see exactly how the killer had set his trap. At the bottom of the hole was a heavy, loosely woven blanket of erosion cloth, with leaves and debris tangled up in it. It had been spread out over the hole, unnoticeable to an unwary jogger, especially in the dim, pre-dawn light.

She made a mental note to call in a BAU forensics team to go over both of these sites. Maybe they could trace the origin of the erosion cloth.

Meanwhile, Riley was getting just a trace of the same sensation she’d had at the beach, of slipping into the killer’s mind. The feeling wasn’t nearly as vivid this time. But she could imagine him perched right where she was kneeling now, looking down at his helpless prey.

So what was he doing in those moments before he began to bury her alive?

She reminded herself of her earlier impression – that he was charming and likeable.

At first he probably feigned surprise at finding the young woman at the bottom of this hole. He may have even given the woman the impression that he’d help her get out.

She trusted him, Riley thought. If only for a moment.

Then he’d begun to tease her.

And before long, he began dumping wheelbarrows full of dirt down on her.

She must have screamed when she realized what was happening.

So how did he respond to the sound of her screaming?

Riley sensed that his sadism fully emerged. He paused from his task to throw a single shovelful of dirt in her face – not so much to stop her from screaming, but to torment her.

Riley shivered all over.

She felt relief as that feeling of connection began to slip away.

Now she could get back to looking at the crime scene with a more objective eye.

The shape of the hole seemed odd to her. The end where she was standing was dug in a pointed wedge shape. The other end reflected that same shape, only inverted.

It looked like the killer had gone to a certain amount of trouble about it.

But why? Riley wondered. What could it mean?

Just then, she heard Bill’s voice call out from somewhere behind her.

“I’ve found something. You’d all better come over here for a look.”

Chapter Seven

Riley whirled around to see what Bill was yelling about. His voice was coming from behind the trees off to one side of the path.

“What is it?” Chief Belt called out.

“What did you find?” Terzis echoed.

“Just come here,” Bill yelled back.

Riley got to her feet and headed in his direction. She could see broken-down brush where he had left the path.

“Are you coming?” Bill called out, starting to sound a little impatient.

Riley could tell by his tone of voice that he meant business.

Followed by Belt and Terzis, she waded through the thicket until they reached the small clearing where Bill was standing. Bill was looking down at the ground.

He’d found something, all right.

Another piece of erosion cloth was stretched over the ground, loosely held in place by small pegs at the corners.

“Good God,” Terzis murmured.

“Not another body,” Belt said.

But Riley knew that it had to be something different. For one thing, the hole was much smaller than the other, and square in shape.

Bill was putting on plastic gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints on whatever he was about to find. Then he knelt down and gently pulled the erosion cloth away.

All Riley could see was a circular piece of dark, polished wood.

Bill carefully took hold of the wooden circle with both hands and pulled it upward.

Everybody except Bill gasped at what he slowly brought out of the hole.

“An hourglass!” Chief Belt said.

“Biggest one I ever saw,” Terzis added.

And indeed, the object was over two feet tall.

“Are you sure it’s not some kind of trap?” Riley warned.

Bill rose to his feet with the object, keeping it perpendicular, handling it as delicately as he might handle an explosive device. He set it upright on the ground next to the hole.

Riley knelt and examined it closely. The thing didn’t seem to have any wires or springs. But was anything hidden beneath that sand? She tilted the thing to one side and didn’t see anything odd.

“It’s just a big hourglass,” she muttered. “And hidden just like the trap on the trail.”

“Not an hourglass, exactly,” Bill said. “I’m pretty sure it measures a longer period of time than an hour. It’s what’s called a sand timer.”

The object struck Riley as startlingly beautiful. The two globes of glass were exquisitely shaped, connected together by a narrow opening. The round wooden top and bottom pieces were connected by three wooden rods, carved into decorative patterns. The top was carved into a ripple pattern. The wood was dark and well-polished.

Riley had seen sand timers before – much smaller versions for cooking that counted off three or five or twenty minutes. This one was much, much bigger, over two feet tall.

The bottom globe was partially filled with tan sand.

There was no sand in the upper globe.

Chief Belt asked Bill, “How did you know something was here?”

Bill was crouching beside the sand timer, examining it attentively. He asked, “Did anyone else notice something odd about the shape of the pit on the trail?”

“I did,” Riley said. “The ends of the hole were dug in kind of a wedge-shaped manner.”

Bill nodded.

“It was roughly the shape of an arrow. The arrow pointed to where the path curved away and some of the bushes were broken down. So I just went where it was pointing.”

Chief Belt was still staring at the sand timer with amazement.

“Well, we’re lucky you found it,” he said.

“The killer wanted us to look here,” Riley muttered. “He wanted us to figure this out.”

Riley glanced at Bill, then at Jenn. She could tell they were thinking just what she was thinking.

The sand in the timer had run out.

Somehow, in a way they didn’t yet understand, that meant that they weren’t lucky at all.

Riley looked at Belt and asked, “Did any of your men find a timer like this at the beach?”

Belt shook his head and said, “No.”

Riley felt a grim tingle of intuition.

“Then you didn’t look hard enough,” she said.

Neither Belt nor Terzis spoke for a moment. They looked as though they couldn’t believe their ears.

Then Belt said, “Look, something like this would surely have stood out. I’m sure there wasn’t anything like it in the immediate area.”

Riley frowned. This thing that had been placed so carefully just had to be important. She felt sure that the cops had somehow overlooked another sand timer.

For that matter, so had she and Bill and Jenn when they’d been on the beach. Where could that one be?

“We’ve got to go back and look,” Riley said.

Bill carried the enormous timer over to the SUV. Jenn opened the back, and she and Bill put the object inside, making sure that it was braced and steadied against any sharp or sudden movement. They covered it with a blanket that was in the SUV.

Riley, Bill, and Jenn got into the SUV and followed the police chief’s car back toward the beach.

The number of reporters gathered in the parking area had increased, and they were getting more aggressive. As Riley and her colleagues made their way through them and past the yellow tape, she wondered how much longer they would be able to ignore their questions.

When they reached the beach, the body was no longer in the hole. The ME’s team had already loaded it into their van. The local cops were still combing the area for clues.

Belt called out to his men, who gathered around him.

“Has anybody seen a sand timer around here?” he asked. “It would look like a big hourglass, at least two feet tall.”

The cops looked perplexed by the question. They shook their heads and said no.

Riley was starting to feel impatient.

It must be around here somewhere, she thought. She walked to the top of a nearby grassy rise and looked around. But she could see no hourglass, not even disturbed sand that would indicate something freshly buried.

Or was her intuition playing tricks on her? It sometimes happened.

Not this time, she thought.

In her gut, she felt sure of it.

She walked back and stood looking down at the hole. It was very different from the one in the woods. It was shallower, more shapeless. The killer couldn’t have formed the dry beach sand into a pointer if he’d tried.

She turned all around and gazed in every direction.

All she saw was sand and the surf.

The tide was low. Of course the killer could have made some kind of wet sand-sculpture arrow, but it would have been seen right away. If it hadn’t been destroyed, it would still be visible.

She asked the others, “Have you seen anyone else anywhere near here – aside from the man with the dog who found the body?”

The cops shrugged and looked at each other.

One of them said, “Nobody except Rags Tucker.”

Riley’s eyes widened.

“Who’s he?” she asked.

“Just an eccentric old beachcomber,” Chief Belt said. “He lives in a little wigwam over there.”

Belt pointed farther along the beach where the shoreline curved away from the area where they stood.

Riley was getting a little angry now.

“Why didn’t anybody mention him before?” she snapped.

“There wasn’t much point,” Belt said. “We talked to him when we first got here. He didn’t see anything having to do with the murder. He said he’d been asleep when it happened.”

Riley let out a groan of irritation.

“We’re going to pay this guy a visit,” she said.

Followed by Bill, Jenn, and Chief Belt, she started walking along the sand.

As they walked, Riley said to Belt, “I thought you’d closed off the beach.”

“We did,” Belt said.

“Then what the hell is anybody still doing here?” Riley asked.

“Well, like I said, Rags sort of lives here,” Belt said. “There didn’t seem to be any point in kicking him out. Besides, he’s got no place else to go.”

After they rounded the curve, Belt led them up across the sand to a grassy rise. The group waded through the soft sand and tall grass to the top of the rise. From there Riley could see a little makeshift wigwam about a hundred yards away.

“That’s ol’ Rags’s house,” Belt said.

As they approached, Riley saw that it was covered with plastic bags and blankets. Here behind the rise, it was safely out of reach whenever the tide was high. The wigwam was surrounded by blankets covered with what looked like a crazy assortment of objects.

Riley said to Belt, “Tell me about this Rags Tucker character. Doesn’t Belle Terre have rules against vagrancy?”

Belt chuckled a little.

He said, “Well, yeah, but Rags isn’t exactly your typical vagrant. He’s colorful, and people like him, visitors especially. And he’s not a suspect, believe me. He’s the most harmless guy in the world.”

Belt pointed to the things out on the blanket.

“He’s got kind of a goofy business going with all that stuff he’s got. He picks up junk off the beach, and people come around to buy stuff, or to exchange stuff they don’t want anymore. Mostly it’s just an excuse for folks to hang around and talk to him. He does this all summer, for as long as the weather here is comfortable. He manages to put together enough money to rent a cheap little apartment in Sattler for the winter. Then when the weather’s good again, he comes back here.”

As they got nearer, Riley could see the objects more clearly. It really was a bizarre collection that included driftwood, conch shells, and other natural objects, but also old toasters, broken TVs, old lamps, and other items that visitors had undoubtedly brought for him.

When they got to the edge of the outstretched blankets, Belt called out, “Hey, Rags. I wonder if we could talk to you some more.”

A raspy voice answered from inside the wigwam.

“I told you before, I didn’t see anybody. Haven’t you caught the creep yet? I sure don’t like the idea of a killer on my beach. I’d have already told you if I knew anything.”

Riley stepped toward the wigwam and called out, “Rags, I need to talk to you.”

“Who’re you?”

“FBI. I’m wondering if maybe you’d run across a large sand timer. You know, like an hourglass.”

There was no reply for a few moments. Then a hand inside the wigwam pulled aside a sheet that covered the opening.

Inside was a scrawny man sitting cross-legged, his big eyes staring at her.

And sitting right in front of him was a huge sand timer.

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