Blake Pierce

Blake Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes eleven books (and counting). Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising five books; and of the new KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising four books (and counting).

An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.

BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE

RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES

ONCE GONE (Book #1)

ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)

ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)

ONCE LURED (Book #4)

ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)

ONCE PINED (Book #6)

ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)

ONCE COLD (Book #8)

ONCE STALKED (Book #9)

ONCE LOST (Book #10)

ONCE BURIED (Book #11)

MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES

BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)

BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)

BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)

BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)

BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)

BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)

AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES

CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)

CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)

CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)

CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)

CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)

KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES

A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)

A TRACE OF MUDER (Book #2)

A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)

A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)

PROLOGUE

Katy Philbin was giggling as she stepped carefully down the stairs,

Stop it! she told herself.

What was so funny, anyway?

What was she doing, giggling like a little girl – not like the seventeen-year-old she actually was?

She wanted more than anything in the world to act like a serious adult.

After all, he was treating her like an adult. He’d been talking to her like an adult all evening long, making her feel special and respected.

He’d even been calling her Katherine instead of Katy.

She really liked it when he called her Katherine.

She also liked the adult drinks he’d been making for her all evening – “Mai Tais,” he called them, and they were so sweet that she could barely taste the alcohol.

And now she couldn’t even remember how many she’d had.

Was she drunk?

Oh, that would be awful! she thought.

What would he think of her if she couldn’t even handle a few icy, sweet-tasting drinks?

And now she was feeling extremely light-headed.

What if she fell down these stairs?

She looked down at her feet, wondering why they weren’t moving as they should be. And why was the light so dim here?

To her embarrassment, she couldn’t even remember exactly why she was here on this flight of wooden steps that seemed to get longer by the moment.

“Where’re we going?” she asked.

Her words came out all fuzzy and sloppy but at least she’d managed to stop giggling.

“I told you,” he said in reply. “I want to show you something.”

She looked around for him. He was somewhere at the bottom of the stairs, but she couldn’t see him. Just one lamp spilled a small pool of light in a corner far away.

But that light was enough to remind her where she was.

“Oh, yeah,” she murmured. “Down’n your basement.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she said, trying to convince herself that it was true. “I’ll be right down.”

She forced one foot to reach for the next step.

She heard him say, “C’mon, Katy. The thing I promised to show you is over here.”

Dimly she realized …

He called me Katy.

She felt oddly disappointed, after a whole evening of being called Katherine.

“Be there in jus’ a minnit,” she said.

The slur in her words was getting worse.

And for some reason, she found that extremely funny.

She heard him chuckle.

“Are you having a good time, Katy?” he asked in a pleasant voice – a voice that she’d liked and trusted for many years.

“The besht,” she said, giggling again.

“I’m glad.”

But now the world seemed to be swimming around her. Hanging onto the railing, she sat down on the stairs.

He spoke again in a less patient voice.

“Hurry up, girl. I’m not going to stand here all day.”

Katy pulled herself back to her feet, struggling to clear her head. She didn’t like the tone of his voice now. But could she blame him for getting impatient? What was the matter with her, anyway? Why couldn’t she get down these stupid stairs?

She was finding it harder and harder to focus on where she was and what she was doing.

She lost her grip on the railing and dropped down to sit on the step.

She wondered again – how many drinks had she had, anyway?

Then she remembered.

Two.

Only two!

Of course, she hadn’t been drinking at all since that horrible night …

Not until now. But just two drinks.

For a moment she couldn’t breathe.

Is it happening again?

She told herself sternly that she was being silly.

She was safe and sound here with a man she’d trusted all her life.

And she was making a fool of herself, and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself, especially around him, when he’d treated her so nicely and served her all those drinks and …

And now everything was foggy, blurred, and dark.

And she felt a strange nausea churning inside her.

“I’m not feeling sho good,” she said.

He didn’t reply, and she couldn’t see him.

She couldn’t see anything.

“I think I’d besht – better go home now,” she said.

He still didn’t say anything.

She reached out blindly, groping around in the air.

“Help me – me get up – off the shtairs. Help me go up the shtairs.”

She heard his footsteps coming toward her.

He’s going to help me, she thought.

So why was that churning, sick feeling getting worse by the second?

“D-d-rive me home,” she said. “Could shyoo do that for me? Please?”

His footsteps stopped.

She could feel his presence right in front of her, even if she couldn’t see him.

But why wasn’t he saying anything?

Why wasn’t he doing anything to help her?

Then she realized what that nauseous feeling actually was.

Fear.

She summoned up her last ounce of will, reached up and took hold of the railing, and pulled herself to her feet.

I have to leave, she thought. But she was unable to say the words aloud.

Then Katy felt a heavy blow to her head.

And then she didn’t feel anything at all.

CHAPTER ONE

Riley Paige struggled to blink back tears. She was sitting in her office at Quantico, looking at a photo of a young woman who had a cast on her ankle.

Why am I punishing myself like this? she wondered.

After all, she needed to think about other things right now – especially a BAU meeting scheduled for just a few minutes from now. Riley was dreading that meeting, which might threaten her professional future.

In spite of that, Riley couldn’t make herself look away from the picture on her cell phone.

She had snapped that picture of Lucy Vargas last fall, right here in the Behavioral Analysis Unit offices. Lucy’s ankle was in a cast, but her smile was simply radiant, a dazzling contrast to her smooth brown skin. Lucy had just been injured on the first case she had worked with Riley and her partner, Bill Jeffreys. But Lucy had done great work, and she knew it, and so did Riley and Bill. That was why Lucy was smiling.

Riley’s hand trembled a little as she held the cell phone in her hand.

Lucy was dead now – gunned down by a deranged sniper.

Lucy had died in Riley’s arms. But Riley knew that Lucy’s death hadn’t been her fault.

She wished Bill felt the same way. Her partner was currently on mandatory leave and not doing at all well.

Riley shuddered as she remembered how things had unfolded.

The situation had been chaotic, and instead of shooting the sniper, Bill had shot an innocent man who was trying to help Lucy. Fortunately, the man wasn’t badly injured, and no one blamed Bill for his actions, least of all Riley. Riley had never seen him so debilitated with guilt and trauma. Riley wondered how soon he could come back to work – or if he ever could.

Riley’s throat tightened as she remembered holding Lucy in her arms.

“You’ve got a great career ahead of you,” Riley had pleaded. “Now stay with us, Lucy. Stay with us.”

But it was hopeless. Lucy had lost too much blood. Riley had felt the life ebbing away from Lucy’s body until it was gone.

And now tears began to trickle down Riley’s cheeks.

Her recollections were interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Agent Paige …”

Riley looked up and saw Sam Flores, the lab technician with black-rimmed glasses. He was standing in her open office door.

Riley stifled a gasp. She hastily wiped away her tears and turned her cell phone face down on her desk.

But she could tell by Sam’s stricken expression that he’d glimpsed what she’d been looking at. And that was the last thing she wanted.

A romance had been budding between Sam and Lucy, and he’d taken her death very hard. He still looked brokenhearted.

Now Flores looked at Riley sadly, but to Riley’s relief he didn’t ask what he’d just interrupted.

Instead he said, “I’m on my way to the meeting. You coming?”

Riley nodded, and Sam nodded back at her.

“Well, good luck, Agent Paige,” he said, then continued on his way.

Riley muttered aloud to herself …

“Yeah, good luck.”

Sam seemed to realize she was going to need it for this meeting.

It was time to pull herself together and face whatever was coming next.

*

A little while later, Riley sat in the large conference room surrounded by more BAU personnel than she had expected, including technicians and investigators in a wide range of capacities. Not all of the faces were familiar, and not all of them were friendly.

I could really use an ally right now, she thought.

She certainly missed Bill’s presence. Sam Flores sat nearby, but he looked too downcast to be of any help to her right now.

The least friendly face of all was Special Agent in Charge Carl Walder, who sat directly across the table from her. The man with the babyish, freckled face glanced back and forth between Riley and a written report in front of him.

He said in a sullen voice, “Agent Paige, I’m trying to understand what’s going on here. We’ve granted a request to post agents at your house around the clock. This seems to have something to do with Shane Hatcher’s recent activities, but I’m not sure exactly how or why. Please explain.”

Riley gulped hard.

She’d known that this meeting was going to deal with her relationship with Shane Hatcher, a brilliant and dangerous escaped convict.

She also knew that a full and honest explanation would mean an end to her career.

It might even put her in prison.

She said, “Agent Walder, as you know, Shane Hatcher was last seen at a cabin that I own up in the Appalachian Mountains.”

Walder nodded and waited for Riley to say more.

Riley knew she had to choose her words very carefully. Until recently, she and Hatcher had had a secret pact. In return for helping Riley on an intensely personal case, Riley had agreed to let Hatcher hide away in the cabin she had inherited from her father.

It had been a pact with a devil, and Riley looked back on it with shame.

Riley continued, “As you also know, Hatcher escaped an FBI SWAT team that surrounded my cabin. I have reason to think he might turn up at my home.”

Walder squinted at her suspiciously.

“Why do you think that?”

“Hatcher is obsessed with me,” Riley said. “Now that he’s been spotted, I’m fairly sure he’ll try to reach out to me. If so, the agents around my house have got a good chance of capturing him.”

Riley cringed a little inside.

It was a half-truth at best.

The real reason she wanted agents around her house was to protect her and her family.

Walder sat drumming his fingers on the table for a moment.

“Agent Paige, you say that Hatcher’s obsessed with you. Are you sure that obsession isn’t mutual?”

Riley bristled a little at the insinuation.

She was relieved when her immediate superior, Brent Meredith, spoke up. Meredith cut a daunting presence as always with his black, angular features and his stern look. But Riley’s relationship with Meredith had always been respectful, even friendly. He’d often been her ally in difficult times.

She hoped that he’d be one right now.

He said, “Chief Walder, I think that Agent Paige’s request for agents at her home was well-founded. We mustn’t pass up even the faintest possibility of bringing Hatcher to justice.”

“Yes,” Walder said. “And I am not satisfied with the fact that we knew exactly where he was but he still got away.” Walder drew himself up in his chair, stared directly at Riley, and asked, “Agent Paige, did you warn Hatcher about the SWAT team that was closing in around him?”

Riley could hear a gasp in the room.

Not many people would have the nerve to ask her such a question. But Riley had to suppress a laugh. This was one question she could answer truthfully. It was why she had reason to fear Hatcher now.

“No, I did not,” Riley said firmly, meeting Walder’s gaze with a glare.

Walder dropped his eyes first. He turned to Jennifer Roston, a young African-American woman with short straight hair who sat looking at Riley with intense dark eyes.

“Do you have questions, Agent Roston?” he asked.

Roston said nothing for a moment. Riley waited somewhat anxiously for her reply. Roston had been assigned to bring Shane Hatcher to justice. Roston was new to the BAU and eager to make her mark. Riley didn’t think she could count on the new agent to be her ally.

Roston hadn’t taken her eyes off Riley during the whole meeting so far.

“Agent Paige, would you mind explaining the exact nature of your relationship with Shane Hatcher?”

Riley bristled again.

She wanted to say …

Yes, I mind. I mind very much.

Roston’s tactic was becoming clear to Riley.

Some days ago Roston had privately interrogated Riley about this very topic in this very room.

Now Roston clearly intended to ask her the same questions all over again, hoping to catch Riley in a contradiction. Roston expected Riley to crack under the pressure of a large meeting like this. And Riley knew from hard experience not to underestimate her. Roston was highly skilled with mind games.

Say as little as possible, she told herself. Be extremely careful.

*

After the meeting broke up, everyone left the room except Riley.

Now that it had ended, Riley felt too badly shaken to get up from her chair.

Roston had asked her familiar questions – for example, how often Riley had communicated with Hatcher, and how. She’d also asked about the death of Shirley Redding, a real estate agent who had gone to the cabin against Riley’s wishes and had died there. The police didn’t suspect foul play, but Riley was sure that Hatcher had murdered her for intruding on his territory. Riley sensed that Roston also suspected the truth.

Through all of Roston’s questions, Riley had responded with familiar lies.

She could tell that Roston was far from satisfied.

This isn’t over, she thought with a chill. How long could she hope to conceal the whole truth about her relationship with Hatcher?

But a much more terrifying worry also weighed on her.

What was Shane Hatcher going to do now?

She knew he felt bitterly betrayed that she hadn’t warned him about the approaching SWAT team. In fact, he had deliberately allowed himself to be seen at the cabin, allowed the FBI to close in, just to test her loyalty.

From Hatcher’s perspective, she had failed that test.

She remembered a text message he had sent to her afterward …

“You will live to regret it. Your family might not.”

She knew Hatcher too well not to take his threats seriously.

Riley sat at the big table clenching her hands together anxiously.

How did I let it come to this? she wondered.

Why had she allowed her relationship with Hatcher to continue even after his escape from prison?

Something Walder had just said echoed in her mind …

“You say that Hatcher’s obsessed with you. Are you sure that obsession isn’t mutual?”

Now that she was sitting here alone, she couldn’t deny the truth behind Walder’s question.

Hatcher had fascinated Riley ever since she first met him in Sing Sing, seeking out his considerable expertise as a self-taught criminologist. He still fascinated her now that he was at large – fascinated her with his brilliance, his ruthlessness, and his strange capacity for loyalty. In fact, Riley felt an uncanny bond with him – a bond that Hatcher did everything he could to strengthen and manipulate.

It was just like Hatcher had sometimes told her:

“We’re joined at the brain, Riley Paige.”

Riley shuddered at the thought.

She hoped that at long last she had broken that bond.

But had she also brought the wrath of Shane Hatcher upon the people she loved most?

Just then Riley heard a voice behind her.

“Agent Paige …”

Riley turned and saw that Jennifer Roston had just stepped back into the room.

“I think that you and I need to talk some more,” Roston said, sitting down at the table across from Riley.

Riley’s mind flooded with dread.

What trick might Roston have up her sleeve now?