Chapter 6

Riley glanced at her car clock as she drove the kids into an upscale part of Fredericksburg and shuddered to see how little time she had left. Meredith’s words came rushing back.

If you’re late, there’ll be hell to pay.

Maybe – just maybe – she’d get to the airstrip on time. She had planned to just stop at home and grab a bag, and now things were getting a lot more complicated. She wondered if she should she call Meredith and warn him that family problems might hold her up. No, she decided; her boss had been reluctant enough as it was. She couldn’t expect him to cut her any slack.

Luckily, Brian’s address was on the route to Ryan’s house. When Riley pulled up to a big front yard and stopped the car, she said, “I ought to come in and tell your parents what happened.”

“They’re not at home,” Brian said with a shrug. “Dad’s gone for good, and Mom isn’t there much.”

He got out of the car, then turned and said, “Thanks for the ride.” As he walked toward his house Riley wondered what kind of parents would leave a kid like that on his own. Didn’t they know what kind of trouble a teenager could get into?

But maybe his mother doesn’t have much choice in that matter, Riley thought miserably. Who am I to judge?

As soon as Brian went inside his house, Riley drove away. April had said nothing during the whole drive so far, and she didn’t seem to be in any mood to talk now. Riley couldn’t tell whether that silence was due to sullenness or shame. She realized that there seemed to be a lot she didn’t know about her own daughter.

Riley was upset with both herself and April. Just yesterday they’d seemed to be getting along better. She’d thought that April was beginning to understand the pressures on an FBI agent. But then Riley had insisted that April go to her father’s house last night, and today April was rebelling against being forced to do that.

Riley reminded herself that she ought to be a whole lot more sympathetic. She’d always been something of a rebel herself. And Riley knew what it was like to lose a mother and to have a distant father. April was bound to be afraid that the same thing would happen to her.

She’s terrified for my safety, Riley realized. During recent months, April had seen her mother endure both physical and emotional injuries. After last night’s intruder scare, April was surely worried sick. Riley reminded herself that she needed to pay closer attention to how her daughter might be feeling. Anyone of any age might have a hard time coping with the complications of Riley’s life.

Riley pulled in front of the house she had once shared with Ryan. It was a large, handsome house with a portico at the side door, or porte-cochère as Ryan called it. These days, Riley chose to park on the street instead of pulling into the driveway and under the shelter.

She had never felt at home here. Somehow, living in a respectable suburban neighborhood had never suited her. Her marriage, the house, the neighborhood, all had represented so many expectations that she’d never felt able to fulfill.

Over the years Riley had realized that she was better at her job than she would ever be at living a normal life. Finally she had left the marriage, house, and neighborhood, and that made her all the more determined to live up to the expectations of being a mother to a teenage daughter.

As April started to open the car door, Riley said, “Wait.”

April turned and looked at her expectantly.

Without so much as stopping to think, Riley said, “I get it. I understand.”

April stared at her with a stunned expression. For a moment, she seemed on the verge of tears. Riley felt almost as surprised as her daughter. She didn’t know quite what had come over her. She only knew that now was no time for parental lectures, even if she had time to deliver one, which she didn’t. She also felt in her gut that she’d said exactly the right thing.

Riley and April got out of the car and walked together to the house. She didn’t know whether to hope Ryan would be at home or not. She didn’t want to get into an argument with him, and she’d already decided not to tell him about the marijuana incident. She knew she ought to, but there simply wasn’t time to deal with his reactions. Still, she really did have to explain to him that she was going to be gone for a few days.

Gabriela, the stout, middle-aged Guatemalan woman who had worked as the family’s housekeeper for years, greeted Riley and April at the door. Gabriela’s eyes were wide with worry.

“Hija, where have you been?” she asked in her heavy accent.

“I’m sorry, Gabriela,” April said meekly.

Gabriela looked closely at April’s face. Riley saw by her expression that she detected that April had been smoking pot.

“Tonta!” Gabriela said sharply.

“Lo siento mucho,” April said, sounding genuinely repentant.

“Vente conmigo,” Gabriela said. As she led April away, she turned and gave Riley a look of bitter disapproval.

Riley withered under that look. Gabriela was one of the few people in the world who truly daunted her. The woman also had a wonderful way with April, and at the moment, she seemed to be doing a better job of parenting than Riley was.

Riley called after Gabriela, “Is Ryan here?”

As she walked away, Gabriela replied, “Sí.” Then she called into the house, “Señor Paige, your daughter is back.”

Ryan appeared in the hallway, dressed and coiffed to leave. He looked surprised to see Riley.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Where was April?”

“She was at my house.”

“What? After everything that happened last night, you took her home?”

Riley’s jaw clenched with exasperation.

“I didn’t take her anywhere,” she said. “Ask her, if you want to know how she got there. I can’t help it if she doesn’t want to live with you. You’re the only one who can fix that.”

“This is all your fault, Riley. You’ve let her get completely out of control.”

For a split second, Riley was furious. But her fury gave way to a sinking feeling that he might be right. It wasn’t fair, but he really did know how to push her buttons that way.

Riley took a long, deep breath and said, “Look, I’m leaving town for a few days. I’ve got a case in Upstate New York. April has got to stay here, and she’s got to stay put. Please explain the situation to Gabriela.”

“You explain the situation to Gabriela,” Ryan snapped. “I’ve got a client to meet. Right now.”

“And I’ve got a plane to catch. Right now.”

They stood staring at each other for a moment. Their argument had reached a stalemate. As she looked into his eyes, Riley reminded herself that she’d once loved him. And he’d seemed to love her just as much. That had been back when both of them were young and poor, before he had become a successful lawyer and she had become an FBI agent.

She couldn’t help noting that he was still a very good-looking man. He went to a lot of trouble to look that way and spent many hours at the gym. Riley also knew perfectly well that he had lots of women in his life. That was part of the problem – he was enjoying his freedom as a bachelor too much to worry about parenting.

Not that I’m doing all that much better, she thought.

Then Ryan said, “It’s always about your job.”

Riley choked back her anger. They’d gone around and around about this. Her job was somehow both too dangerous and too trivial. His job was all that mattered, because he was making a lot more money, and because he claimed to be making a real difference in the world. As if handling lawsuits for wealthy clients amounted to more than Riley’s never-ending war against evil.

But she couldn’t let herself get dragged into this tired old argument right now. Neither of them ever won it anyway.

“We’ll talk when I get back,” she said.

She turned and walked out of the house. She heard Ryan shut the door behind her.

Riley got into her car and drove. She had less than an hour to get back to Quantico. Her head was reeling. So much was happening so fast. Just a little while ago she had decided to take a new case. Now she wondered if it was the right thing to do. Not only was April having trouble coping, but she was sure that Peterson was back in her life.

But in a way, it made good sense. As long as April stayed with her father, she’d be safe from Peterson’s clutches. And Peterson wasn’t going to take any other victims during Riley’s absence. As puzzled as she was by him, Riley knew one thing for certain. She alone was his target for revenge. She, and no one else, was his intended next victim. And it would feel good to be far away from him for a while.

She also reminded herself of a hard lesson she had learned during her last case – not to take on all the evil in the world, all at the same time. It boiled down to a simple motto: One monster at a time.

And right now, she was going after an especially vicious brute. A man she just knew would strike again soon.

Chapter 7

The man began to spread lengths of chains out on the long worktable in his basement. It was dark outside, but all those links of stainless steel were bright and shiny under the glare of a bare light bulb.

He pulled one of the chains out to its full length. The rattling sound stirred terrible memories of being shackled, caged, and tormented with chains like these. But it was like he kept telling himself: I’ve got to face my fears.

And to do that he had to prove his mastery over the chains themselves. Too often in the past, chains had held mastery over him.

It was a shame that anyone had to suffer on account of this. For five years, he’d thought he’d put the whole matter behind him. It had helped so much when the church hired him to be a night watchman. He’d liked that job, proud of the authority that came with it. He’d liked feeling strong and useful.

But last month, they’d taken that job away from him. They needed someone with security skills, they’d said, and better credentials – someone bigger and stronger. They promised to keep him working in the garden. He’d still be making enough money to pay the rent on this tiny little house.

Even so, the loss of that job, the loss of the authority it gave him, had shaken him, made him feel helpless. That urge broke loose again – that desperation not to be helpless, that frantic need to assert mastery over the chains so they couldn’t take him again. He’d tried before to outrun the urge, as if he could leave his inner darkness right here in his basement. This last time, he’d driven all the way down to Reedsport, hoping to escape it. But he couldn’t.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t. He was a good man, with a good heart, and he liked to do favors. But sooner or later, his kindness always turned against him. When he’d helped that woman, that nurse, carry groceries to her car in Reedsport, she’d smiled and said, “What a good boy!”

He winced at the memory of the smile and those words.

“What a good boy!”

His mother had smiled and said such things, even while she kept the chain on his leg too short for him to reach any food or even see outside. And the nuns, too, had smiled and said things like that when they peered at him through the little square opening in the door to his small prison.

“What a good boy!”

Not everyone was cruel, he knew that. Most people really meant well toward him, especially in this little town where he’d long since settled. They even liked him. But why did everyone seem to think of him as a child – and a handicapped child at that? He was twenty-seven years old, and he knew that he was exceptionally bright. His mind was full of brilliant thoughts, and he scarcely ever encountered a problem he couldn’t solve.

But of course he knew why people saw him the way they did. It was because he could barely speak at all. He’d stammered hopelessly all his life, and he hardly ever tried to talk, although he understood everything that other people said.

And he was small, and weak, and his features were stubby and childish, like those of someone who had been born with some congenital defect. Caged in that slightly misshapen skull was a remarkable mind, thwarted in its desire to do brilliant things in the world. But nobody knew that. Nobody at all. Not even the doctors at the psychiatric hospital had known it.

It was ironic.

People didn’t think he knew words like ironic. But he did.

Now he found himself nervously fingering a button in his hand. He’d plucked it off the nurse’s blouse when he hung her up. Reminded of her, he looked around at the cot where he’d kept her chained up for more than a week. He’d wished he could talk to her, explain that he didn’t mean to be cruel, and it was just that she was so much like his mother and the nuns, especially in that nurse’s uniform of hers.

The sight of her in that uniform had confused him. It was the same with the woman five years ago, the prison guard. Somehow both women had merged in his mind with his mother and the nuns and the hospital workers. He’d fought a losing battle simply to tell them apart.

It was a relief to be through with her. It was a terrible responsibility, keeping her bound like that, giving her water, listening to her moaning through the chain he’d used to gag her. He only undid the gag to put a straw in her mouth for water now and again. Then she’d try to scream.

If only he could have explained to her that she mustn’t scream, that there were neighbors across the street who mustn’t hear. If he could only have told her, maybe she’d have understood. But he couldn’t explain, not with his hopeless stammer. Instead, he’d mutely threatened her with a straight-edged razor. In the long run, even the threat hadn’t worked. That was when he’d had to slit her throat.

Then he’d taken her back to Reedsport and hung her up like that, for everyone to see. He wasn’t sure just why. Perhaps it was a warning. If only people could understand. If they did, he wouldn’t have to be so cruel.

Perhaps it was also his way of telling the world how sorry he was.

Because he was sorry. He’d go to the florist tomorrow and buy flowers – a cheap little bouquet – for the family. He couldn’t talk to the florist, but he could write out simple instructions. The gift would be anonymous. And if he could find a good place to hide, he’d stand near the grave when they buried her, bowing his head like any other mourner.

He pulled another chain taut on his workbench, clenching its ends as tightly as he could, applying all his strength to it, silencing its rattle. But deep down, he knew that this wasn’t enough to make him master of the chains. For that, he’d have to put the chains to use again. And he’d use one of the straitjackets still in his possession. Someone must be bound, as he’d been bound.

Someone else would have to suffer and die.