Offhand, Riley doubted it. For one thing, she’d gotten a good look at the corpse at the crime scene, and she’d seen a photo online of the other victim. Both women were slight of build and dark-haired. Their faces were somewhat similar. If the killer was obsessed with a particular type of victim, this much more robust woman certainly didn’t fit it.
Riley asked, “What information do you have?”
Sarah Dillon squinted.
“Information? Well, maybe not information exactly. But a strong feeling—really, really strong. Something was very wrong about that woman. I’ve known it for a while now.”
“How so?” Jenn asked.
“Once, on the train up to Chicago, I tried to strike up a conversation with her. Just small talk, the weather, the kind of day I’d had, my sister in Chicago and her family. She seemed friendly enough at first. But she started getting standoffish when I asked her about herself. I asked her, ‘What do you do in Chicago?’ She said she went there to visit her mother, who was in a nursing home.”
Sarah Dillon fingered her purse nervously.
“Then I started asking questions about her mother—what her health was like, how long she’d been in a home, that kind of thing. She started getting defensive, and in a few minutes she didn’t want to talk to me at all. She got out a book and pretended to read it, like I wasn’t even there. Whenever I’ve seen her on the train since then, she does the same thing—acts like she’s never met me. I just thought she was rude, standoffish. But now … well, I’m sure it was something else.”
“Like what?” Jenn asked.
The woman let out a grunt of disapproval.
“Well, you’re the people in law enforcement. You tell me. But she was hiding something. I’ll bet she was mixed up in something illegal. Something that got her killed. And now …”
She shivered all over.
“Do you think I’m in any danger?” she asked again, peering nervously around the room.
“Why would you think that?” Bill asked.
Sarah Dillon looked like she could hardly believe the question.
“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? There were other people on that train. Lots of people. None of them are exactly friendly these days. And ever since I talked to her, I’ve noticed some of them looking at me strangely. Any one of them might have been the killer. She didn’t tell me what she was mixed up in, I don’t know anything about it. But the killer doesn’t know that. He might think she actually told me something—something he doesn’t want me to know.”
Riley suppressed a sigh of impatience.
She said, “I really doubt that you’re in any danger, Ms. Dillon.”
The fact was, Riley was quite sure of it. The woman was paranoid, pure and simple.
“But you don’t know that,” the woman said, her voice growing more shrill. “You can’t know for sure. And I’ve got such a terrible feeling. You’ve got to do something. You’ve got to protect me.”
Chief Powell got up and patted her gently on the shoulder.
“You wait here for just a moment, ma’am,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
The woman nodded, then sat silently. She looked as if she were on the verge of tears.
The police chief quickly returned with a uniformed policeman.
He said to the woman, “This is Officer Ring. He’ll watch after you for a while. Right now, you should just go home. Officer Ring will make sure you get there safely.”
The woman let out a gasp of relief. She got up from her chair and left the room with the policeman, gazing happily up at him as he held the door for her.
Bill shook his head and said to Chief Powell, “What are you going to do? Give her round-the-clock protection? Because that’s just going to be a waste of time and resources.”
Powell chuckled slightly.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “Landry Ring has got a calming effect on people. He’s almost uncanny that way. That’s why I picked him to take her home. By the time they get there, I’ll bet Landry will have her convinced that she’s in no danger at all.”
Jenn was frowning.
“That sure was a waste of time,” she said.
Maybe, Riley thought.
But she had a nagging gut feeling about what the “witness” had just said …
“Something was very wrong about that woman.”
… and …
“She was hiding something.”
Riley sensed that Sarah Dillon might not be altogether wrong.
She asked Powell and Cullen, “Did Reese Fisher have any family members living here in Barnwell?”
Powell said, “Just her husband, Chase. A local chiropractor.”
“And has he been interviewed?”
“Of course,” Bull Cullen said. “Chief Powell here and I both talked to him. He’s got a clean alibi—he was in his office this morning when it happened.”
“I want to talk to him again,” Riley said.
Cullen and Powell glanced at each other with surprise.
Powell said, “I’m not sure what good that will do. He’s pretty shaken up about all this.”
Riley wasn’t sure what she expected to find out. But if Reese Fisher was harboring some sort of secret, her husband might be able to tell them what it was.
“I want to see him,” Riley insisted. “Right now.”
CHAPTER NINE
The railroad’s deputy police chief looked thoroughly annoyed by Riley’s request to re-interview Reese Fisher’s husband. But Riley was in no mood to back down.
Bull Cullen said, “When I asked you FBI guys to come out here, I didn’t expect you to waste my time.”
Feeling her temper escalate, Riley pressed her lips together to prevent snapping back at the man. She heard Bill let out a low grumble beside her.
Before Riley could think of a civil response, Jenn spoke up. The young agent sounded just as condescending and patronizing as Cullen had been toward her back at the crime scene.
“Oh, we won’t interfere with your excellent work, sir. Just give us a car and we’ll go see Mr. Fisher on our own. We’ll get out of your way for a while. You and your team can keep right on doing the really important stuff. You might start by booking a comfortable place for those three men back in the interview room to stay the night.”
Cullen grimaced at Jenn’s obvious contempt for him.
“I’ll do that,” he said, puffing up his considerable physique in an attempt to exert male authority. “And I’ll book a place for the three of you as well. Meanwhile, Chief Powell here will show you to a vehicle.”
Powell’s heavy, bloodhound-like jowls hung in an expression of bewilderment as he watched Cullen stalk away. Riley knew what Powell must be thinking. Surely he was worried that an FBI team and the railroad police were starting to look like a bad mix, and he was going to get caught in the middle of an ugly situation.
Finally Powell shook his head and led Riley and her team outside to a parked vehicle. He gave them the keys and directions to the Fisher home.
As Riley drove, she said, “Jenn, I don’t blame you for not liking Deputy Chief Cullen, but—”
Jenn interrupted, “Huh-uh, that’s not it. I don’t like having hangovers or bronchitis. I don’t like it when my car won’t start. I don’t like TV commercials. I don’t like anchovies on my pizza. But that guy …”
She let out a slight growl, then added, “He’s a whole special kind of unlikable, if you ask me. He practically stinks of testosterone.”
Bill let out a hearty laugh, but he made no comment.
Riley couldn’t help but be impressed by how vividly Jenn expressed her dislike.
But still …
Riley said, “Well, you’re going to have to work with him. We all will. So get used to him—for as long as it takes to solve this case, anyway.”
In her rearview mirror, Riley saw Jenn cross her arms in a gesture of silent annoyance.
Riley hoped Jenn was listening to what she’d just said and would take it seriously. On the other hand, she guessed that there might be an upside to Jenn’s hostility toward Cullen. Maybe it would give her something to think about besides whatever might be going on between her and the mysterious Aunt Cora.
Anyway, Riley couldn’t complain about Jenn’s work so far today. In the past, she’d always felt that Jenn could be like the proverbial bull in the china shop. But she’d handled the situation with the engineer—the “hogger”—surprisingly well.