Once Gone by Blake Pierce Page B

school.
    Riley ended the phone call, feeling a bit better, and prepared to go. After drop-off, she had agreed to pick up Bill today. They had a suspect to interview that fit all the demographics.
    And Riley had a feeling he just might be the savage killer they were looking for.

Chapter 13
     
    Riley turned off the engine and sat before Bill’s house, admiring his pleasant two-story bungalow. She’d always wondered how he managed to keep that front lawn such a healthy green and those ornamental shrubs so immaculately trimmed. Bill’s domestic life might be in turmoil, but he sure did keep a nice yard, a perfect fit for this picturesque residential neighborhood. She couldn’t help wondering what all the backyards looked like in this little community so close to Quantico.
    Bill came out, his wife, Maggie, appearing behind him and giving Riley a ferocious glare. Riley looked away.
    Bill got in and slammed the door behind him.
    “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he growled.
    Riley started the car and pulled away from the curb.
    “I take it all is not well at home,” she said.
    Bill shook his head.
    “We had a big fight when I got home so late last night. It all started up again this morning.”
    He was silent for a moment, then added grimly, “She’s talking about divorce again. And she wants full custody of the boys.”
    Riley hesitated, but then she went ahead and asked the question that was on her mind, “And I’m part of the problem?”
    Bill was silent.
    “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “She wasn’t happy to hear that we’re working together again. She says you’re a bad influence.”
    Riley didn’t know what to say.
    Bill added, “She says I’m at my worst when I’m working with you. I’m more distracted, more obsessed with my job.”
    True enough, Riley thought. She and Bill were both obsessed with their jobs.
    Silence fell again as they drove. After a few minutes, Bill opened up his laptop.
    “I’ve got some details about the guy we’re going to talk to. Ross Blackwell.”
    He scanned the screen.
    “A registered sex offender,” he added.
    Riley’s lip curled in disgust.
    “What charges?”
    “Possession of child pornography. He was suspected of more but nothing was ever proved. He’s in the database but no restrictions on his activity. It was ten years back, and this photo is pretty old.”
    Sneaky, she thought. Maybe hard to trap.
    Bill continued reading.
    “Fired from several jobs, for vague reasons. The last time he was working in a chain store in a big mall in the Beltway—really mainstream commercial stuff, and its market is mostly families with kids. When they caught Blackwell posing dolls in kinky positions, they fired and reported him.”
    “A man with a quirk about dolls and a record of child pornography,” Riley muttered.
    So far, Ross Blackwell fit the profile that she was starting to put together.
    “And now?” she asked.
    “He’s got a job in a hobby and model shop,” Bill replied. “Another chain store in another mall.”
    Riley was a bit surprised.
    “Didn’t the managers know about Blackwell’s record when they hired him?”
    Bill shrugged.
    “Maybe they don’t care. His interests seem to be entirely heterosexual. Maybe they don’t figure he’ll do much harm in a place that’s all about model cars and airplanes and trains.”
    She felt a chill run through her body. Why would a guy like that even be able to get another job? This man seemed likely to be a vicious killer. Why would he be let out every day to cruise around among those who were vulnerable?
    They finally made their way through the relentless traffic to Sanfield. The D.C. suburb struck Riley as a typical example of an “edge city,” largely made up of malls and corporate headquarters. She found it to be soulless, plastic, and depressing.
    She parked outside the huge shopping mall. For a moment, she just sat in the driver’s seat and stared at the old photograph of Blackwell on Bill’s