Once Gone (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1)

Chapter 36

Special Agent Brent Meredith shut the thick manila envelope stuffed with photographs and written reports with a note of satisfied finality. Riley felt the same satisfaction, and she was sure that Bill and Flores did too. They were all seated at the table in the Behavioral Analysis Unit conference room. If only Riley weren't bandaged up and hurting all over, the moment would have felt perfect.

"So Dirk's mother wanted a daughter instead of a son," Meredith said. "She tried to turn him into a Southern belle. That was probably just the tip of the iceberg. God knows what else he went through as a kid."

Bill leaned back in his chair.

"Let's not give him too much sympathy," he said. "Not everybody with a lousy childhood turns into a murderous sadist. He made his own choices."

Meredith and Flores nodded in agreement.

"But does anybody know whatever happened to Dirk's mother?" Riley asked.

"Records show that she died five years ago," Flores said. "His father disappeared long before that, when Dirk was still a baby."

A sober silence settled over the group. Riley understood exactly what it meant. She was in the presence of three people whose lives were devoted to destroying evil. Even in their satisfaction, the specter of more evil, and much more work to do, hung over all of them. It would never be over. Not for them.

The door opened, and Carl Walder walked in. He was all smiles.

"Great work, everybody," he said. He slid Riley's gun and badge across the table toward her. "These belong to you."

Riley smiled a wry smile. Walder was not going to apologize, much less acknowledge any fault of his own. But that was just as well. Riley didn't know just how she'd respond if he actually said he was sorry. Probably not gracefully.

"By the way, Riley," Walder said. "The Senator called me this morning, and he sends you his best wishes for your recovery, and his thanks. He seems to think the world of you."

Riley now had to stifle her amusement. That call, she was sure, was exactly why Walder was giving her back her gun and her badge. She remembered one of the last things Newbrough had said to her.

"You're nobody's lapdog."

The same thing could never be said of Carl Walder.

"Stop by my office soon," Walder said. "Let's talk promotion. An administrative position, maybe. You deserve it."

Without another word, Walder left the office. Riley heard her companions breathe a shared sigh of relief that he was gone so quickly.

"You should think about it, Riley," Meredith said.

Riley chuckled.

"Can you really see me in an administrative job?"

Meredith shrugged.

"You've more than paid your dues. You've done more tough field work than most agents do in a lifetime. Maybe you should become an instructor. You'd be great at training agents, with your experience and insight. What do you think?"

Riley thought it over. What would she really have to teach young agents? Her instincts were all she had, and as far as she knew, instincts couldn't be taught. There was no way to train people to follow their gut. They either had it or they didn't.

Besides, did she really wish her own gut instincts on anybody? She lived too much in terror of her own thoughts, haunted by her troubling capacity to grasp an evil mind. It was a hard thing to live with.