Free Once Taken by Blake Pierce Page A

crime scene. They say it’s like you get right into a killer’s head, feel what he felt, see what he saw, understand exactly what he was thinking.”
    Riley didn’t know what to say. She often did, indeed, become deeply absorbed in crime scenes. And her capacity to identify with a killer’s perspective sometimes disturbed even her. It was just her way of doing things, but Lucy was making it sound like an almost legendary skill. It made Riley feel uncomfortable and self-conscious.
    In any case, she wasn’t getting any vibes from where she was standing, no sense of the killer’s thoughts. She didn’t know whether that was because the place was too nondescript or because of the other people watching.
    “Hold this for a moment,” she told Lucy, handing her the folder.
    Then Riley scrambled down the slope, leaving Lucy and Slater watching in surprise.
    “You be careful,” Slater called after her.
    “Do you want me to come too?” Lucy asked.
    “No, I’m okay,” Riley called back. “You stay there.”
    The slope was steep and more treacherous than it looked from the roadside. She stumbled down against brush and branches, scraping herself a good bit along the way. The sharp descent was also a stern reminder that she was still hurting from her recent injuries. Muscles that had just started to feel better suddenly began to ache again.
    Finally, she reached the bottom of the slope. She stood beside the fallen log, only about a yard away from the water’s edge. This was it—the place where Marla’s body had fallen and stayed until it was discovered. The quiet was interrupted by the noise of a speedboat tearing down the river a short distance away. Its wake of gentle wavelets broke against the log, then died away into stillness.
    Drawing upon the memory of the photo, Riley pictured Marla’s body lying at her feet. She could see it clearly. She also realized that, if not for the log, the body would probably have kept right on rolling into the river. It had only gotten caught here by accident. Working in the dark, the killer might not have even realized that the body hadn’t gone all the way into the water.
    Judging from the slope, Riley guessed that the water was deep right here. Weighted down with chains, the body might well have sunk without a trace. It might never have been found.
    At last, she began to feel a tingle of understanding. This woman’s body, like the place itself, had meant nothing to the killer by the time he dumped it here. It might be discovered or it might not be—it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. The chains and the straitjacket had been solely a matter between him and his victim. They were used to torment the women, and they had some special meaning for the killer. They hadn’t been for public display.
    Something drastic had changed between the two killings. Now the killer wanted desperately for everyone to see the full horror of his deed. With the second victim, he was trying to communicate something that he hadn’t cared about the first time.
    Riley groaned under her breath. It was likely to mean that the killer was going to accelerate. Whatever was driving him was stronger now. Whatever he’d kept under control for five years was pushing harder at him to show the world his pain.
    At that moment, her phone buzzed. She took it out of her pocket. She was surprised to see that it was a text from April.
    Hey Mom, it said simply.
    Riley felt deeply startled by the sheer incongruity. Here she was, standing exactly where a corpse had once been abandoned, receiving a text from her daughter who oftentimes wanted nothing to do with her. Should she explain that now was not a good time to exchange texts?
    Hi April, she wrote back. What’s going on?
    The reply came quickly …
    School ends tomorrow. I have my last exam in the morning.
    Riley typed, Are you ready?
    I dunno, April replied.
    Riley sighed. Her conversation with her daughter had already become perfectly meaningless.
    But then