“I’m not going to talk about her to a rent-a-cop.”
Bowman bared his teeth into a grin. “Did you know Riley has lived in Virginia for the past twelve years?”
“You need to leave.” Charles shifted under Bowman’s hard gaze. “I was always good to her. I treated her like she was my own child. It wasn’t my fault that Riley could be difficult to manage and ungrateful.”
“Why did she run away?”
“She didn’t—”
“I know she ran away.”
“Run away is a harsh term. It’s very dramatic, like her.” He stiffened. “Basically, she didn’t like the house rules. Her mother and I expected her to accomplish a lot. When her mother died, she stopped caring. And I think if you have any other questions, you may take them up with my attorney.”
“I didn’t realize there was a need for attorneys.”
“I’m not a fool.”
“You have a reputation as a gambler. You’ve had years when you’ve lost heavily.”
“You don’t have access to that kind of information.”
He didn’t, but the man’s defensive tone told Bowman he’d been right. “Were you ever in a high-stakes game that involved runaway girls?”
Charles’s face whitened. “I don’t know what you are talking about. And now I must insist you leave.” He moved toward the door.
“If you were losing big and you had a chance to win it all back, would you have staked Riley’s life on a bet?”
“Get out.”
In no rush to follow orders, Bowman took a moment to survey the room. Noted the large portrait of the woman hanging above the fireplace. Her hair was dark, cascading around her shoulders. Her green eyes held a hint of amusement, as if she knew a secret.
“That’s a nice portrait of Riley’s mother.”
Charles bristled.
“Riley looks just like her.”
Charles fisted his fingers but said nothing.
“Nice that you still honor your first wife.”
“I loved her very much, and I can’t toss the portrait away just because she’s gone.”
Audrey’s body tensed with anger, but she stayed silent.
“I do understand that,” Bowman said with real honesty. “How did she pass away?”
“Cancer.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Must have been hard on Riley.”
“She was a difficult kid before her mother’s death. Afterward, she became impossible. She ran away before I could throw her out. And if she’s in trouble, then she brought it on herself.”
“Staking her life in a high-stakes game would kill two birds with one stone. Troubled teen gone. Debt wiped free.”
“Leave or I’m calling the cops.”
“Count on me returning if I have more questions.”
“You don’t know who you’re harassing or you would be afraid.”
“I could say the same to you, Mr. Charles.”
Bowman stepped outside as Charles slammed the door behind him. Tugging on his white cuffs, he moved down the steps at a leisurely pace.
His relationship with Riley was complicated, and when he would tell her about this visit, it would become contentious. But he was back in her life and he’d do what it took to protect her.
“Yes, we did get a hit on Jane Doe’s prints. Who told you?” Dakota Sharp’s graveled voice rattled over his shoulder at Riley as she raced to catch up to him, crossing the Virginia State Police parking lot toward the building’s front entrance.
“Eddie Potter, the reporter,” she said. “He has friends in the department, I suppose.”
His scowl deepened. “Where did you see him?”
“He came to my house this morning.”
Sharp muttered a curse. “That’s not good.”
“I can take care of Potter and myself. Who’s the victim?”
“Her name is Vicky Gilbert.”
So Potter was right. “How did you identify her?”
“Isn’t this your day off?”
“I can’t take days off and do nothing. My kid is in school all day, and I can train Cooper and clean house only so much before I go insane.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. “There must be something else you can be doing other than chasing me.”
“Actually, there isn’t. This case is under my skin.”
He paused and studied her, his expression partly amused but mostly annoyed. “Vicky Gilbert was arrested last year for theft in Chesterfield, Virginia. She and a few friends decided to steal some dresses from a shop in the mall. Her mother paid the store for the stolen items and charges were dropped.”
“Charges went away, but the problems did not.”
“Exactly.” He pried the lid off the to-go coffee cup and sipped. “Could be any number of reasons on the menu: drugs, abuse, the call to adventure. I’ve heard all the reasons.”
Riley pulled off her sunglasses, fingering a worn earpiece. “You said her family is in Chesterfield?”
“Solid middle class from what I can tell.”
“And we both know that bad things never happen in solid middle-class families.”
He grunted. “You’re too young to be cynical, Trooper.”
“I see the world for what it is.”
“And what’s that?”
“Dark and scary. Do you have the address?”
“Yeah. I was planning to pay them a visit as soon as I checked in with my chief.”
“I’d like to tag along. I’ll have a different perspective than you, Agent Sharp. I work with runaways. I can help you. And maybe if I can find out who killed Vicky, I can put away Carter for the rest of his life.” She was like a dog with a bone. “Have you found Darla Johnson? She’s Jax Carter’s girlfriend.”
“We’re on the lookout for her.”
“Have Vicky’s parents called in a missing persons report yet on their daughter?”
“No.”
“Don’t you find that odd?”
“I learned a long time ago that there’re all kinds of dysfunctional families out there.”
“They are either glad she’s gone or think she’ll come back.” She calculated the time it would take to cut through the rush-hour traffic. The twenty-mile trip would take an hour tops. “If I come along, I’ll drive and you can get some work done.”
A sigh shuddered through him, making him look older than his thirty-seven years. “Pull your vehicle around in a half hour.”
“See you then.” She turned to leave and then snapped her fingers, remembering. “You aren’t allergic to dogs, are you?”
“What?”
“Cooper’s along for the ride.”
He shook his head. “Why not? The more the merrier.” Exactly a half hour later Sharp returned and slid into the passenger seat. As she pulled out of the lot, he tensed. Sharp wasn’t accustomed to riding shotgun.
As they drove in silence, she thought about the playing cards hidden in her house. A thousand miles and a dozen years separated her and the day someone had given her those cards. She had no forensic evidence or memories she could attach to the cards. And with Hanna’s adoption looming, just the suggestion of a link to a serial killer could derail the final judgment. Still, the cards couldn’t be ignored.
“Have you considered entering the murder in ViCAP?” she asked.