Once Taken. Blake Pierce

nodded. “I’ve seen what I needed to see here. And you’ve done a good job keeping the scene under control. Go ahead and cut her down.”

      Alford said to Boyden, “Call the county coroner. Tell him he can stop waiting around twiddling his thumbs.”

      “Got it, Chief,” Boyden said, taking out his cell phone.

      “Come on,” Alford said to Riley and Lucy. He led them to his police car. When they got in and were on their way, a cop waved the car past the barricade onto the main street.

      Riley took careful note of the route. The killer would have brought his vehicle in and out along this same route that both Boyden and Alford used. There was no other way into the area between the warehouse and the train tracks. It seemed likely that someone would have seen the killer’s vehicle, although they might not have thought it unusual.

      The Reedsport Police Department was nothing more than a little brick storefront right on the town’s main street. Alford, Riley, and Lucy went inside and sat down in the chief’s office.

      Alford placed a stack of folders on his desk.

      “Here’s everything we’ve got,” he said. “The complete file on the old case from five years ago, and everything so far on last night’s murder.”

      Riley and Lucy each took a folder and began to browse through it. Riley’s attention was drawn to the photos of the first case.

      The two women were similar in age. The first one worked in a prison, which put her at some degree of risk for possible victimization. But the second one would be considered a lower risk victim. And there was no indication that either of them frequented bars or other places that would make them especially vulnerable. In both cases, those who knew the women had described them as friendly, helpful, and conventional. And yet, there had to be some factor that drew the killer to these particular women.

      “Did you make any headway on Marla Blainey’s murder?” Riley asked Alford.

      “It was under the jurisdiction of the Eubanks police. Captain Lawson. But I worked with him on it. We found out nothing useful. The chains were perfectly ordinary. The killer could have picked them up at any hardware store.”

      Lucy leaned toward Riley to look at the same pictures.

      “Still, he did buy a lot of them,” Lucy said. “You’d think some clerk would have noticed someone buying so many chains.”

      Alford nodded in agreement.

      “Yeah, that’s what we thought at the time. But we contacted hardware stores all around these parts. None of the clerks picked up on any unusual sales like that. He must have bought a few at a time, here and there, without attracting a lot of attention. By the time he got around to the murder, he had big pile of them handy. Maybe he still does.”

      Riley peered closely at the straitjacket the woman was wearing. It looked identical to the one used to bind last night’s victim.

      “What about the straitjacket?” Riley asked.

      Alford shrugged. “You’d think something like that would be easy to track. But we got nothing. It’s standard issue in psychiatric hospitals. We checked all the hospitals throughout the state, including one real close by. Nobody noticed any straitjackets missing or stolen.”

      A silence fell as Riley and Lucy continued looking at reports and photos. The bodies had been left within ten miles of each other. That indicated that the killer probably didn’t live too far away. But the first woman’s corpse had been dumped unceremoniously on a riverbank. Over the five years between murders, the killer’s attitude had changed in some way.

      “So what do you make of this guy?” Alford asked. “Why the straitjacket and all the chains? Doesn’t that seem like overkill?”

      Riley thought for a moment.

      “Not in his mind,” she said. “It’s about power. He wants to restrict his victims not just physically but symbolically. It goes way beyond the practical. It’s about taking away the victim’s power. The killer wants to make a real point of that.”

      “But why women?” Lucy asked. “If he wants to disempower his victims, wouldn’t it be more dramatic with men?”

      “It’s a good question,” Riley replied. She thought back to the crime scene – how the body had been so carefully counterbalanced.

      “But remember, he’s not very strong,” Riley said. “It might be partly a matter of choosing easier targets. Middle-aged women like these would probably put up less of a fight. But they also probably stand for something in his mind. They weren’t selected as individuals, but as women– and whatever it is that women represent to him.”

      Alford let out a cynical growl.

      “So you’re saying it was nothing personal,” he said. “It’s not like these women did anything to get captured and killed. It’s not like the killer even thought they especially deserved it.”

      “That’s often how it goes,” Riley said. “In my last case, the killer targeted women who bought dolls. He didn’t care who they were. All that mattered is that he saw them buy a doll.”

      Another silence fell. Alford looked at his watch.

      “I’ve got a press conference in about a half hour,” he said. “Is there anything else we need to discuss before then?”

      Riley said, “Well, the sooner Agent Vargas and I can interview the victim’s immediate family, the better. This evening, if that’s possible.”

      Alford knitted his brow with concern.

      “I don’t think so,” he said. “Her husband died young, maybe fifteen years ago. All she’s got is a couple of grown-up kids, a son and a daughter, both with families of their own. They live right in town. My people have been interviewing them all day. They’re really worn out and distraught. Let’s give them till tomorrow before we put them through any more of that.”

      Riley saw that Lucy was about to object, so she stopped her with a silent gesture. It was smart of Lucy to want to interview the family immediately. But Riley also knew better than to make waves with the local force, especially if they seemed to be as competent as Alford and his team.

      “I understand,” Riley said. “Let’s try for tomorrow morning. What about the family of the first victim?”

      “I think there might still be some relatives down in Eubanks,” Alford said. “I’ll check into it. Let’s just not rush anything. The killer’s in no hurry, after all. His last murder was five years ago, and he’s not liable to act again soon. Let’s take time to do things right.”

      Alford got up from his chair.

      “I’d better get ready for the press conference,” he said. “Do you two want to be part of it? Have you got any kind of statement to make?”

      Riley mulled it over.

      “No, I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s best if the FBI keeps a low profile for the time being. We don’t want the killer to feel like he’s getting a lot of publicity. He might be more likely to show himself if he doesn’t think he’s getting the attention he deserves. Right now, it’s better for you to be the face people see.”

      “Well then, you can get settled in,” Alford said. “I’ve got a couple of rooms at a local B&B reserved for you. There’s also a car out front you can use.”

      He slid the room reservation form and a set of car keys across his desk to Riley. She and Lucy left the station.

*

      Later that evening, Riley sat on a bay window seat looking out over Reedsport’s main street. Dusk had fallen, and streetlights were coming on. The night air was warm and pleasant and all was quiet, with no reporters in sight.

      Alford had reserved two lovely second-story rooms in the B&B for Riley and Lucy. The woman who owned the place had served a delicious supper. Then Riley and Lucy had spent an hour or so in the main room downstairs making plans for tomorrow.

      Reedsport