Riley was startled.
She said, “I can’t very well say I’ve got to fly back home because I missed my daughter’s birthday.”
Jenn smiled a little.
“We’ll think of something to say,” she said.
Riley stammered, “But—but—”
Bill patted her hand again.
“Jenn’s right,” he said. “You and Jenn covered for me when I was dysfunctional. And you and I covered for her when she was absent. I guess it’s your turn again. Jenn and I can handle things here for a while. And we’ll both cover for you. Let’s go right now.”
Riley felt flooded by a strange mix of guilt and gratitude.
She got up from the bed and said, “I’ll go back to my room and get my go-bag.”
At that moment, her phone buzzed again. Riley saw that the call was from Bull Cullen.
When she answered it, Cullen said …
“We’ve got another body.”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Riley felt her stomach sink at what Cullen had just said. She gripped the phone tightly as she began to pace the room. She put the call on speakerphone so her colleagues could hear.
“Where did it happen this time?” she asked Bull Cullen.
“Just outside of Caruthers, a little town in the western part of the state.”
Riley glanced at her colleagues and sensed that they were thinking what she was thinking.
The killer is moving westward.
He had started in Indiana, then these two were widely separated in Illinois.
She asked, “A town on a line out of Chicago?”
“Yes, another heavily used commuter line,” Cullen said, “Her name was Sally Diehl, and she was killed just like the others, bound by duct tape to railroad tracks a short distance from town, killed by an oncoming freight train.”
“So the MO was exactly the same?” Riley asked.
“Yeah, but with one important difference. Her own car was found parked next to the road that runs along the railroad. Either she drove herself there or the killer drove her in her own car.”
Riley thought it more likely that the latter was the case. Her brain clicked away, already trying to put together a possible scenario for what had happened.
She asked, “Who’s on the scene right now?”
“The local cops headed there as soon as they heard the news from the train crew. I’ve talked to the police chief, Tanya Buchanan. She thinks the killer may still be in the area, so she’s working fast. She says she’s already got roadblocks set up. He shouldn’t be able to get away this time.”
Cullen chuckled and added, “Tanya sounds like one smart cookie.”
Jenn let out an audible groan, and Riley shared her disgust.
Tanya?
One smart cookie?
Riley was sure that Cullen wouldn’t call a male police chief by his first name like that, let alone describe him as a “smart cookie.”
Cullen continued, “I’ve ordered some of my people to get to Caruthers, and Special Agent in Charge Dillard has sent some of the Chicago FBI people. They’re all on their way right now, driving. But we can get there faster. The town’s got an airport, big enough for your jet. I need you to make a call and make sure it’s ready to fly. I’ll pick the three of you up and we’ll fly there.”
“How soon will you be here?” Riley asked.
Cullen chuckled again.
“Sooner than you probably expect,” he said, ending the call.
Hardly a second later there was a knock at the door.
Jenn rolled her eyes and said, “Oh, God—somebody else please answer that.”
Riley went to the door and opened it.
Sure enough, Bull Cullen was standing outside, still holding his cell phone in his hand. He was grinning—although his face sobered instantly when he saw that Riley was the one to greet him.
Riley understood the situation right away. As soon as Cullen had found out about the murder, he’d raced right to the hotel and found out Jenn’s room number at the front desk. He’d made the call while walking to her room.
Doubtless Cullen had hoped to catch Jenn by surprise alone—yet another immature male stunt of his. Riley was sure it was fortunate that he’d found all three of the FBI agents already gathered there instead.
Jenn looked furious, of course.
Riley said to Cullen, “Agent Jeffreys and I just have to pick up our go-bags.”
Jenn had her bag already in hand and actually led the way out the door, with Cullen tagging along behind her.
As she hurried to her room, Riley pulled out her cell phone and contacted the pilot, telling him to have the plane ready for them.
*
A short time later, Riley, her two colleagues, and Bull Cullen were aboard the FBI plane flying to Caruthers. Jenn had managed to claim a seat next to Riley so she wouldn’t have to sit by Cullen.
Cullen had settled in next to Bill in a seat facing the two women. He wasn’t bothering to hide his ogling of Jenn.
The whole thing exasperated Riley. The last thing they needed was a juvenile-minded guy on this job. She hoped Jenn could keep her own irritation under control, at least until they finished this case.
The flight was mercifully short. The plane barely reached cruising altitude before it started its descent into the Caruthers airport. When they landed, they were greeted on the tarmac by a pair of local police officers who drove them away, sirens blaring and lights flashing.
As they neared the crime scene, Riley could see that the local police had done a good job of closing off the area. Reporters had already gathered, but they weren’t able to get past the roadblocks. Even so, Riley wondered—had the barriers been put up fast enough to stop the killer from getting away?
Maybe, she thought. But she suspected that he was too sharp to hang around. He had probably left as soon as he tied the woman down.
Local cops waved the police vehicle through the barriers, where it pulled up behind a small hatchback that had been parked on the shoulder of the road—the victim’s vehicle, Riley realized. It was a dark, overcast night and she could see lights darting about nearby. They looked like oversized fireflies.
Flashlights, Riley realized.
Some of the local cops had already gathered there, but flashlights were the only illumination available. Riley took her own flashlight out of her go-bag, and saw that Jenn and Bill had theirs too.
When they walked over to the crime scene area, the moving lights revealed a handful of investigators surveying the area. The spectacle of the beheaded body under the glancing, dancing beams of light looked truly surreal.
A huskily built uniformed woman strode toward them.
She said, “I’m Tanya Buchanan, the chief of police here in Caruthers. I take it you folks just flew in from Chicago.”
Riley and the others all introduced themselves. Chief Buchanan shined her flashlight down at the body and shook her head.
“I sure as hell never thought I’d see something like this,” she said. “I’d heard about the other murders, of course, but even so I never imagined …”
The woman’s voice trailed off and she shuffled her feet anxiously.
Then she pointed along the railroad tracks.
“The train stopped down there about a mile away. The conductor called us as soon as he and the engineer could get stopped. Those poor guys, they’re really a mess. We’ve already put them in their own motel rooms. A railroad shrink is supposed to get here before too long to help them deal with it.”
Riley hoped Chief Buchanan was right. While it was true that Jenn had dealt with the engineer at the Barnwell crime scene delicately and sensitively, Riley and her colleagues weren’t here to offer therapy. They were here to solve a crime. And the time between these grisly deaths seemed to be getting shorter.
There had been four days between the first killing and the second one. But this time the monster had only waited a day to carry out another murder. Whatever was driving him must be growing stronger.
That meant they had no time for distractions of any kind.