letter was still there.
“Great. Where are you now?”
“Almost to the station.”
“No! Bring the letter here. Averly will be here by then, and we can open it immediately.”
Wilkerson grunted. Averly was one thing, but where did Carillo get off telling him what to do?
He heard Carillo catch his breath. “We’ll have the lab analyze it after we see what it says. Time’s working against us here. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Wilkerson grumbled. He snapped the phone shut and yanked his car into a tight U-turn back toward the Rileys.
12
WILKERSON WHEELED his car up the Rileys’ driveway and parked. Peter Carillo was right. Wilkerson spotted a dark blue Crown Victoria with an Orange County license plate. It had to be Averly’s.
Inside, Averly introduced Wilkerson to Dawn and Valerie. Valerie stood alone by the couch, her eyes locked on the plastic bag Wilkerson held with the letter inside. Adam watched her face turn pasty white.
“Val, sit back down on the couch,” Adam said, as he walked over and helped lower her beside him on the soft cushion. Dawn joined them on the opposite side, leaning on the armrest.
“Detective Wilkerson, do you have a pair of latex gloves?” Averly asked.
“Don’t go anywhere without them.”
“Then put them on and open the letter.”
With his gloves on, he slid the letter out of the evidence bag and ran his index finger carefully under the flap. He gently pulled two handwritten pages out and glanced up at Averly.
“Read it,” Averly said.
Adam watched Wilkerson’s lips move, but no words came from his mouth. He was standing in the middle of the goddamn room reading the letter to himself.
“Out loud,” ordered Averly.
“Sorry.” Wilkerson shuffled the two sheets of paper. “It’s entitled Last Will and Testament.”
Valerie let out an ear-piercing cry and slumped over on Adam’s shoulder.
Wilkerson looked up at the Rileys, then over toward Averly, who gave him a sharp nod. Wilkerson continued:
I love you Mommy, Daddy, Dawn, and Brad, and everyone else, and all my friends and relatives. My thoughts will always be with all of you . . . (it’s almost over). I tried to be good, and I hope I never disappointed any of you. If I did, I’m very sorry. I only wanted to make you proud of me because I’m very proud of my family and everyone I know. Please do not be afraid, Gabriel and God will watch over me.
Wilkerson paused, coughing to his side to clear his throat, and added:
With all my love always, Sara Ann Riley.
Wilkerson again looked at the Rileys sitting on the couch. Adam stared back at him with wide, vacant eyes, one arm around his sobbing wife. Dawn slid over and held onto her mother with both arms.
Averly went and stood in front of the Rileys, waving for Wilkerson to bring the letter. “Is this your daughter’s handwriting?” he asked, as Wilkerson held out the letter.
Valerie didn’t lift her head from where it was buried in Adam’s shoulder. Adam studied both pages for several minutes.
“Yes.” Adam’s voice caught in his esophagus for a second. “I think so.”
“Are you sure?” Averly asked, adjusting his glasses.
Adam grunted to clear his throat. “Her ‘t’s—” Adam had to stop again. He took a deep breath and through pursed lips slowly let it out. “The small ‘t’s have loops. She does that.”
“Show him the envelope,” Averly ordered Wilkerson.
Wilkerson flipped the envelope out from behind the first page of the letter.
“Is that her handwriting?” Averly asked.
Adam studied the envelope, then finally gave an affirmative nod.
Averly turned toward the equipment table where Carillo sat quietly, then spun back. “And Brad’s her boyfriend?” he asked.
“Yes,” Adam replied.
“Thanks, Mr. Riley,” he said and started for the equipment table.
Averly had Wilkerson refold the letter. Wilkerson slipped it and the envelope back into the evidence bag. Averly then motioned for
“Great. Where are you now?”
“Almost to the station.”
“No! Bring the letter here. Averly will be here by then, and we can open it immediately.”
Wilkerson grunted. Averly was one thing, but where did Carillo get off telling him what to do?
He heard Carillo catch his breath. “We’ll have the lab analyze it after we see what it says. Time’s working against us here. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Wilkerson grumbled. He snapped the phone shut and yanked his car into a tight U-turn back toward the Rileys.
12
WILKERSON WHEELED his car up the Rileys’ driveway and parked. Peter Carillo was right. Wilkerson spotted a dark blue Crown Victoria with an Orange County license plate. It had to be Averly’s.
Inside, Averly introduced Wilkerson to Dawn and Valerie. Valerie stood alone by the couch, her eyes locked on the plastic bag Wilkerson held with the letter inside. Adam watched her face turn pasty white.
“Val, sit back down on the couch,” Adam said, as he walked over and helped lower her beside him on the soft cushion. Dawn joined them on the opposite side, leaning on the armrest.
“Detective Wilkerson, do you have a pair of latex gloves?” Averly asked.
“Don’t go anywhere without them.”
“Then put them on and open the letter.”
With his gloves on, he slid the letter out of the evidence bag and ran his index finger carefully under the flap. He gently pulled two handwritten pages out and glanced up at Averly.
“Read it,” Averly said.
Adam watched Wilkerson’s lips move, but no words came from his mouth. He was standing in the middle of the goddamn room reading the letter to himself.
“Out loud,” ordered Averly.
“Sorry.” Wilkerson shuffled the two sheets of paper. “It’s entitled Last Will and Testament.”
Valerie let out an ear-piercing cry and slumped over on Adam’s shoulder.
Wilkerson looked up at the Rileys, then over toward Averly, who gave him a sharp nod. Wilkerson continued:
I love you Mommy, Daddy, Dawn, and Brad, and everyone else, and all my friends and relatives. My thoughts will always be with all of you . . . (it’s almost over). I tried to be good, and I hope I never disappointed any of you. If I did, I’m very sorry. I only wanted to make you proud of me because I’m very proud of my family and everyone I know. Please do not be afraid, Gabriel and God will watch over me.
Wilkerson paused, coughing to his side to clear his throat, and added:
With all my love always, Sara Ann Riley.
Wilkerson again looked at the Rileys sitting on the couch. Adam stared back at him with wide, vacant eyes, one arm around his sobbing wife. Dawn slid over and held onto her mother with both arms.
Averly went and stood in front of the Rileys, waving for Wilkerson to bring the letter. “Is this your daughter’s handwriting?” he asked, as Wilkerson held out the letter.
Valerie didn’t lift her head from where it was buried in Adam’s shoulder. Adam studied both pages for several minutes.
“Yes.” Adam’s voice caught in his esophagus for a second. “I think so.”
“Are you sure?” Averly asked, adjusting his glasses.
Adam grunted to clear his throat. “Her ‘t’s—” Adam had to stop again. He took a deep breath and through pursed lips slowly let it out. “The small ‘t’s have loops. She does that.”
“Show him the envelope,” Averly ordered Wilkerson.
Wilkerson flipped the envelope out from behind the first page of the letter.
“Is that her handwriting?” Averly asked.
Adam studied the envelope, then finally gave an affirmative nod.
Averly turned toward the equipment table where Carillo sat quietly, then spun back. “And Brad’s her boyfriend?” he asked.
“Yes,” Adam replied.
“Thanks, Mr. Riley,” he said and started for the equipment table.
Averly had Wilkerson refold the letter. Wilkerson slipped it and the envelope back into the evidence bag. Averly then motioned for
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