“To wake Cullen up.”
Followed by Bill, Jenn, and Eggers, Riley strode down the sidewalk toward Cullen’s room.
She pounded on his door.
A voice inside called out, “Who is it?”
“You know who it is,” Riley yelled.
“Go away,” Cullen replied.
Riley pounded on the door again. This time a handful of tired-looking people poked their heads out of other motel room doors, grumbling about calling the police.
Riley ignored them but she saw Bill flash his FBI badge. The complainers disappeared back into their rooms.
“Damn it, Cullen,” she yelled. “This is your wakeup call. We’ve all got work to do. And we’ve got to start right now. Get up and open the door.”
A moment later, a bleary-eyed, pajama-clad Cullen opened the door, and Riley and her colleagues filed inside.
“You guys are being ridiculous,” he said. “We’ve got our guy and you know it.”
“Has Pollitt confessed yet?” Riley asked.
“No, his lawyer won’t let him talk. And why do you think that is? Why do you think he tried to run in the first place?”
Riley could think of too many reasons to mention. The guy had a domestic abuse record, for one thing. And he had a secret life that he’d gone to a lot of trouble to conceal from everybody. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to any cops. And in any case, no lawyer was going to let him do that.
It doesn’t mean he’s a murderer, she thought.
In fact, she now felt absolutely sure that Pollitt wasn’t a murderer. Certainly not the one they were looking for.
Cullen rubbed his eyes.
He said, “I know what I’m doing, believe me. There are lots of people we can interview who knew the victims. Sooner or later, we’ll find a connection between Pollitt and all of the victims. We’ll find corroborating evidence.”
Riley could hardly believe her ears.
What made Cullen so sure that there was a connection between Pollitt and the victims—even if he really was guilty of the murders?
He really doesn’t have the first idea of what he’s doing, Riley thought.
Cullen was starting to seem more awake now. He was grinning smugly.
“You guys really can’t deal with this, can you? That I’m going to wrap up the case, I mean. Without the FBI’s help. You’re going to get outshone by a railroad cop. I’ll get all the glory, and you’ll look like idiots. Well, that’s just too damned bad. You’re off the case. Orders are orders. And I’m giving the orders here.”
Cullen finally seemed to notice Mason Eggers’s presence in the room.
“What’s old Grandpa doing here?” he asked.
“He’s come up with a theory,” Riley said. “And a damned good one.”
Cullen’s eyes lit up.
“So Grandpa’s got a theory! This I’ve got to hear!”
Mason Eggers’s hands and voice shook nervously as he spread his map out on a table and explained everything to Cullen. Cullen didn’t stop grinning during Eggers’s whole explanation. Riley could tell by Cullen’s expression that he thought the theory was complete nonsense.
When Eggers finished, Cullen crossed his arms and shook his head.
“You guys are really grasping at straws, aren’t you? Listening to this over-the-hill old coot. You can’t even come up with an idea of your own!”
Riley suppressed a moan of discouragement.
What’s it going to take to get through to him? she wondered.
She said, “We’ve got to set up a stakeout in Dermott. And we’ve got to get to work right now. If you don’t want to be involved, my people are going to do it anyway.”
Suddenly Cullen’s expression changed. He chuckled and said, “OK.”
Riley was startled.
OK? she thought.
This had been easier than she’d expected.
Cullen added, “Let’s get moving. Let’s wake everybody up. Just one thing, though. I want Grandpa to come along.”
Now Riley understood.
Cullen expected the stakeout to be a bust, and he wanted to see all of them made fools of—Riley, Bill, and especially Jenn, for having bloodied his nose.
And of course, he wanted to make a fool of Eggers too.
But that didn’t matter to Riley.
What mattered was stopping a killer—and saving a life.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
As the FBI jet took off from the small Caruthers airport, Riley sat staring out the airplane’s window. Dawn was breaking, and she felt uneasy about what this new day was going to bring.
They finally might have a chance to stop this serial killer once and for all.
She hoped they could do that.
If not …
She didn’t want to think about what might happen otherwise.
She closed and opened her right hand a few times. She felt some twinges now, but no pain to speak of. The injury she’d gotten from punching the hobo named Dutch was healing up nicely.
That was a good thing. She might need to function at full physical capacity very soon.
The small plane’s cabin was more crowded than usual. Riley had taken a window seat, and Mason Eggers had sat down next to her. Bill and Jenn were both on board, of course, and so was Chicago FBI field chief Proctor Dillard.
Bull Cullen was on the plane as well. He’d managed to seat himself a safe distance away from Jenn. The leering interest he had shown toward her before was completely gone. Now he looked scared that Jenn might punch him in the nose again at any moment.
Riley wondered …
Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
Well, it was certainly good that Cullen wouldn’t be harassing Jenn anymore. And Riley was pretty sure that Jenn had gotten her hostility toward Cullen out of her system. Riley only hoped that Cullen wouldn’t get so jittery about Jenn that his mind wouldn’t be on the case. Right now, the team needed all the brainpower it could get, even his. She didn’t think he could have become this area’s Deputy Chief of Railroad Police if he was a total idiot.
But then Riley thought about Carl Walder back in Quantico. Somehow, that bureaucratic flunky had managed to become the Special Agent in Charge. And Walder was a constant drag on Riley’s work.
As soon as the plane reached cruising altitude, Riley managed to get Dermott’s Chief of Police, Royce Ulrich, on the phone. The poor guy sounded sleepy and confused, but he promised that someone would meet Riley and her team at the airport. And he assured her that she’d have the full support of his department.
Riley was about to tilt her seat back and try to sleep a little when she noticed Eggers’s face was pale and he was gripping the armrests of his chair.
She asked him, “Are you scared of flying?”
He nodded and said, “It’s bad enough in those big commercial airliners.”
Riley smiled sympathetically.
“I guess you’ve never been in a plane this small before,” she said.
“I flew once in a little Piper Cub many years ago. It was a lot smaller, but this is even worse somehow.”
Riley said, “Well, this plane is pretty much no frills as far as service is concerned. But I could go get you a drink of water if you think that would help.”
She almost added …
And I’m pretty sure we can find a paper bag somewhere.
But she realized that the mere suggestion of vomiting might be enough to induce it.
“I’ll be OK,” Eggers said.
Riley wondered if maybe she should try to strike up a conversation with him. That might distract him from his apparent fear of flying.
After all, she knew almost nothing about him.
She’d noticed earlier that he was wearing a wedding ring. This had struck her as odd, since he seemed so insistent on following railroad police cases all over the place. At his age, wouldn’t he prefer spending more time with his wife and family?
She said, “I see you’re married.”
As if by reflex, Eggers covered up the ring with his right hand, and a pained expression crossed his face.
Riley immediately understood her mistake.
A widower, she thought. The loss of his wife was surely the last thing in the world he wanted to talk about.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Eggers simply nodded.
Riley quickly tried to think of some way to change the subject.
But then it dawned on her …