Blake Pierce - Once Craved

“Did I ever tell you about my friend Angie Fletcher?” April said.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, we used to be tight for a while but she changed schools. She was really smart, just one year ahead of me, fifteen years old. I heard that she started buying drugs from this guy everybody called Trip. She got really, really into heroin. And when she ran out of money, Trip put her to work as a hooker. Trained her personally, made her move in with him. Her mom’s so screwed up, she barely noticed Angie was gone. Trip even advertised her on his website, made her get a tattoo swearing she was his forever.”

Riley was shocked. “What happened to her?”

“Well, Trip eventually got busted, and Angie wound up in a drug rehab center. That was just this summer while we were in Upstate New York. I don’t know what happened to her after that. All I know is that she’s just sixteen now and her life is ruined.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Riley said.

April groaned with impatience.

“You really don’t get it, do you, Mom? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You’ve spent your whole life stopping this kind of thing. And you’ve put away all kinds of guys like Trip – some of them forever. But if you stop doing what you do best, who’s going to take over for you? Somebody as good at it as you? I doubt it, Mom. I really doubt it.”

Riley fell silent for a moment. Then with a smile, she squeezed April’s hand tightly.

“I think I’ve got a phone call to make,” she said.

As the FBI jet lifted off from Quantico, Riley felt sure that she was on her way to face yet another monster. She was deeply uneasy at the thought. She had been hoping to stay away from killers for a while, but taking this job had finally seemed like the right thing to do. Meredith had been clearly relieved when she’d said she would go.

That morning, April had left on her field trip, and now Riley and Bill were on their way to Phoenix. Outside the airplane window the afternoon had turned dark, and rain streaked across the glass. Riley stayed strapped into her seat until the plane had made its way through rough-and-tumble gray clouds and into clearer air above. Then a cushiony surface spread out beneath them, hiding the earth where people were probably scurrying about to stay dry. And, Riley thought, going about their everyday pleasures or horrors or whatever lay in between.

As soon as the ride smoothed out, Riley turned to Bill and asked, “What have you got to show me?”

Bill flipped open his laptop on the table in front of them. He brought up a photo of a large black garbage bag barely submerged in shallow water. A dead white hand could be seen poking out of the bag’s opening.

Bill explained, “The body of Nancy Holbrook was found in an artificial lake in the reservoir system outside of Phoenix. She was a thirty-year-old escort with an expensive service. In other words, a pricey prostitute.”

“Did she drown?” Riley asked.

“No. Asphyxiation seems to have been the cause of death. Then she was stuffed into a heavy-duty garbage bag and dumped into the lake. The garbage bag was weighted with large rocks.”

Riley studied the photo closely. A lot of questions were already forming in her mind.

“Did the killer leave any physical evidence?” she asked. “Prints, fibers, DNA?”

“Not a thing.”

Riley shook her head. “I don’t get it. The disposal of the body, I mean. Why didn’t the killer go to just a little more trouble? A freshwater lake is perfect for getting rid of a body. Corpses sink and decompose fast in fresh water. Sure, they might resurface later on because of bloating and gases. But enough rocks in the bag would solve that problem. Why leave her in shallow water?”

“I guess it’s up to us to figure that out,” Bill said.

Bill brought up several other photos of the crime scene, but they didn’t tell Riley much.

“So what do you think?” she said. “Are we dealing with a serial or aren’t we?”

Bill’s knitted his brow in thought.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Really, we’re just looking at a single murdered prostitute. Sure, other prostitutes have disappeared in Phoenix. But that’s nothing new. That happens routinely in every major city in the country.”

The word “routinely” struck an uncomfortable chord with Riley. How could the ongoing disappearance of a certain class of women be considered “routine”? Still, she knew that what Bill was saying was true.

“When Meredith phoned, he made it sound urgent,” she said. “And now he’s even giving us the VIP treatment, flying us directly there on a BAU jet.” She thought back for a moment. “His exact words were that his friend wanted us to look into it as the work of a serial killer. But you sound like nobody’s sure it is a serial.”

Bill shrugged. “It might not be. But Meredith seems to be really close to Nancy Holbrook’s brother, Garrett Holbrook.”

“Yeah,” Riley said. “He told me they went to the academy together. But this whole thing is unusual.”

Bill didn’t argue. Riley leaned back in her seat and considered the situation. It seemed pretty obvious that Meredith was bending FBI rules as a favor to a friend. That wasn’t typical of Meredith at all.

But this didn’t make her think any less of her boss. Actually, she really admired his devotion to his friend. She wondered …

Is there anybody I’d bend the rules for? Bill, maybe?

He’d been more than a partner over the years, and more than even a friend. Even so, Riley wasn’t sure. And that made her wonder – just how close did she feel to any of her coworkers these days, including Bill?

But there didn’t seem much point in thinking about it now. Riley closed her eyes and went to sleep.

It was a bright sunny day when they landed in Phoenix.

As they got off the jet, Bill nudged her and said, “Wow, great weather. Maybe at least we’ll get a little vacation out of this trip.”

Somehow, Riley doubted that it was going to be a lot of fun. It had been a long time since she’d taken a real vacation. Her last attempt at an outing in New York with April had been cut short by the usual murder and mayhem that was such a big part of her life.

One of these days, I need to get some real rest, she thought.

A young local agent met them at the plane and drove them to the Phoenix FBI field office, a striking new modern building. As he pulled the car into the Bureau parking lot, he commented, “Cool design, isn’t it? Even won some kind of award. Can you guess what it’s supposed to look like?”

Riley looked over the facade. It was all straight, long rectangles and narrow vertical windows. Everything was carefully placed and the pattern seemed familiar. She stopped and stared at it for a moment.

“DNA sequencing?” she asked.

“Yep,” the agent said. “But I’ll bet you can’t guess what the rock maze over there looks like from above.”

But they walked into the building before Riley or Bill could hazard a guess. Inside, Riley saw the DNA motif repeated in the sharply patterned floor tiles. The agent led them among severe-looking horizontal walls and partitions until they reached the office of Special Agent in Charge Elgin Morley, then left them there.

Riley and Bill introduced themselves to Morley, a small, bookish man in his fifties with a thick black mustache and round glasses. Another man was awaiting them in the office. He was in his forties, tall, gaunt, and slightly hunched. Riley thought he looked tired and depressed.

Morley said, “Agents Paige and Jeffreys, I’d like you to meet Agent Garrett Holbrook. His sister was the victim who was found in Nimbo Lake.”