women represent to him.”
Alford let out a cynical growl.
“So you’re saying it was nothing personal,” he said. “It’s not like these women did anything to get captured and killed. It’s not like the killer even thought they especially deserved it.”
“That’s often how it goes,” Riley said. “In my last case, the killer targeted women who bought dolls. He didn’t care who they were. All that mattered is that he saw them buy a doll.”
Another silence fell. Alford looked at his watch.
“I’ve got a press conference in about a half hour,” he said. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before then?”
Riley said, “Well, the sooner Agent Vargas and I can interview the victim’s immediate family, the better. This evening, if that’s possible.”
Alford knitted his brow with concern.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Her husband died young, maybe fifteen years ago. All she’s got is a couple of grown-up kids, a son and a daughter, both with families of their own. They live right in town. My people have been interviewing them all day. They’re really worn out and distraught. Let’s give them till tomorrow before we put them through any more of that.”
Riley saw that Lucy was about to object, so she stopped her with a silent gesture. It was smart of Lucy to want to interview the family immediately. But Riley also knew better than to make waves with the local force, especially if they seemed to be as competent as Alford and his team.
“I understand,” Riley said. “Let’s try for tomorrow morning. What about the family of the first victim?”
“I think there might still be some relatives down in Eubanks,” Alford said. “I’ll check into it. Let’s just not rush anything. The killer’s in no hurry, after all. His last murder was five years ago, and he’s not liable to act again soon. Let’s take time to do things right.”
Alford got up from his chair.
“I’d better get ready for the press conference,” he said. “Do you two want to be part of it? Have you got any kind of statement to make?”
Riley mulled it over.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s best if the FBI keeps a low profile for the time being. We don’t want the killer to feel like he’s getting a lot of publicity. He might be more likely to show himself if he doesn’t think he’s getting the attention he deserves. Right now, it’s better for you to be the face people see.”
“Well then, you can get settled in,” Alford said. “I’ve got a couple of rooms at a local B&B reserved for you. There’s also a car out front you can use.”
He slid the room reservation form and a set of car keys across his desk to Riley. She and Lucy left the station.
*
Later that evening, Riley sat on a bay window seat looking out over Reedsport’s main street. Dusk had fallen, and streetlights were coming on. The night air was warm and pleasant and all was quiet, with no reporters in sight.
Alford had reserved two lovely second-story rooms in the B&B for Riley and Lucy. The woman who owned the place had served a delicious supper. Then Riley and Lucy had spent an hour or so in the main room downstairs making plans for tomorrow.
Reedsport truly was a quaint and lovely town. Under different circumstances, it would be nice place for a vacation. But now that Riley was away from all talk of yesterday’s murder, her mind turned toward more familiar concerns.
She hadn’t thought about Peterson all day until now. He was out there, and she knew it, but nobody else believed it. Had she been wise to leave things like that? Should she have tried harder to convince somebody?
It gave her a chill to think that two murderers—Peterson and whoever had killed two women here—were at this very moment going about their lives however they pleased. How many more were out there, somewhere in the state, somewhere in the country? Why was our culture plagued with these warped human beings?
What might they be
Alford let out a cynical growl.
“So you’re saying it was nothing personal,” he said. “It’s not like these women did anything to get captured and killed. It’s not like the killer even thought they especially deserved it.”
“That’s often how it goes,” Riley said. “In my last case, the killer targeted women who bought dolls. He didn’t care who they were. All that mattered is that he saw them buy a doll.”
Another silence fell. Alford looked at his watch.
“I’ve got a press conference in about a half hour,” he said. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before then?”
Riley said, “Well, the sooner Agent Vargas and I can interview the victim’s immediate family, the better. This evening, if that’s possible.”
Alford knitted his brow with concern.
“I don’t think so,” he said. “Her husband died young, maybe fifteen years ago. All she’s got is a couple of grown-up kids, a son and a daughter, both with families of their own. They live right in town. My people have been interviewing them all day. They’re really worn out and distraught. Let’s give them till tomorrow before we put them through any more of that.”
Riley saw that Lucy was about to object, so she stopped her with a silent gesture. It was smart of Lucy to want to interview the family immediately. But Riley also knew better than to make waves with the local force, especially if they seemed to be as competent as Alford and his team.
“I understand,” Riley said. “Let’s try for tomorrow morning. What about the family of the first victim?”
“I think there might still be some relatives down in Eubanks,” Alford said. “I’ll check into it. Let’s just not rush anything. The killer’s in no hurry, after all. His last murder was five years ago, and he’s not liable to act again soon. Let’s take time to do things right.”
Alford got up from his chair.
“I’d better get ready for the press conference,” he said. “Do you two want to be part of it? Have you got any kind of statement to make?”
Riley mulled it over.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s best if the FBI keeps a low profile for the time being. We don’t want the killer to feel like he’s getting a lot of publicity. He might be more likely to show himself if he doesn’t think he’s getting the attention he deserves. Right now, it’s better for you to be the face people see.”
“Well then, you can get settled in,” Alford said. “I’ve got a couple of rooms at a local B&B reserved for you. There’s also a car out front you can use.”
He slid the room reservation form and a set of car keys across his desk to Riley. She and Lucy left the station.
*
Later that evening, Riley sat on a bay window seat looking out over Reedsport’s main street. Dusk had fallen, and streetlights were coming on. The night air was warm and pleasant and all was quiet, with no reporters in sight.
Alford had reserved two lovely second-story rooms in the B&B for Riley and Lucy. The woman who owned the place had served a delicious supper. Then Riley and Lucy had spent an hour or so in the main room downstairs making plans for tomorrow.
Reedsport truly was a quaint and lovely town. Under different circumstances, it would be nice place for a vacation. But now that Riley was away from all talk of yesterday’s murder, her mind turned toward more familiar concerns.
She hadn’t thought about Peterson all day until now. He was out there, and she knew it, but nobody else believed it. Had she been wise to leave things like that? Should she have tried harder to convince somebody?
It gave her a chill to think that two murderers—Peterson and whoever had killed two women here—were at this very moment going about their lives however they pleased. How many more were out there, somewhere in the state, somewhere in the country? Why was our culture plagued with these warped human beings?
What might they be
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