Once Pined. Blake Pierce

Judy said. “I’ve lived in Seattle off and on for years, and there are so many houseboats in the waterways in these parts, but I’ve never actually been on one. One of the few adventures I haven’t had.”

      Amanda’s smile brightened and she didn’t say anything. That inscrutable smile was starting to make Judy nervous. Was Amanda going to invite her to visit her on her houseboat? Did she even really have a houseboat?

      “Do you do at-home visits for your clients?” Amanda asked.

      “I do sometimes, but …”

      “But what?”

      “Well, I’m not supposed to in situations like this. This rehab center would consider it poaching. I signed an agreement not to.”

      Amanda’s smile turned a little bit mischievous.

      “Well, what would be wrong with your paying me a simple social visit? Just stop by. See my place. We could chat. Spend some time together. See where things go. And then, if I decided to hire you … well, that would be different, wouldn’t it? Not poaching at all.”

      Judy smiled. She was starting to appreciate Amanda’s cleverness. What she was suggesting would still be bending the rules, if not breaking them outright. But who would ever know? And it certainly suited Judy’s purposes. She’d have all the time she needed.

      And the truth was, Amanda was starting to fascinate her.

      It would be exciting to get to know her before she killed her.

      “That sounds marvelous,” Judy said.

      “Good,” Amanda chirped, not sounding the least bit sad anymore.

      She reached into her purse, took out a pencil and notepad, jotted down her address and phone number.

      Judy took the note and asked, “Do you want to make an appointment?”

      “Oh, let’s not get all regimented about it. Sometime soon would be fine. During the next day or two. But don’t stop by unexpected. Call me first. That’s important.”

      Judy wondered why that was so important.

      She’s certainly got a secret or two, Judy thought.

      Amanda got up and put on her coat.

      “I’ll check myself out now. But remember. Call me.”

      “I’ll do that,” Judy said.

      Amanda walked out of the room into the hall, singing some more of the lullaby, her voice sounding happier and surer now.

      No need to weep,

      Dream long and deep.

      Give yourself to slumber’s sweep.

      As Amanda’s voice vanished down the hall, Amanda sang the rest of it quietly to herself.

      No more sighs,

      Just close your eyes

      And you will go home in your sleep.

      Things were going Judy’s way after all.

      And this killing was going to be special.

      CHAPTER TEN

      Riley tried to ignore the tensions inside the FBI vehicle as she and Bill headed out to interview the wife of a poison victim. She thought that Barb Bradley could be a viable suspect. The fact that she delivered linens struck her as possibly significant. If the woman made medical deliveries, maybe she’d also had access to Cody Woods, who had admitted himself to a hospital and died there.

      It was obvious that nobody in Seattle law enforcement was happy with the presence of two agents from Quantico. But then, none of those working on this case seemed happy with each other either.

      Maybe the local animosity is catching, Riley thought. She had already found herself annoyed with both of the agents that Sanderson assigned to work with them. She told herself it was an irrational feeling, but her dislike persisted.

      In spite of all that, it was good that she and Bill were going to interview Barb Bradley right away.

      Are we going to really get lucky and solve this thing today? she wondered.

      She knew better than to get her hopes up. Breaks like that were few and far between. It was more likely that progress was going to be slow and tough, especially due to all the infighting and power plays in the air.

      The rain had ended and the air was starting to clear.

      At least, Riley thought, that could help make the trip more pleasant.

      Agent Jay Wingert was driving, and Riley and Bill were sitting in the back seat.

      Wingert had the physique and good looks of a male fashion model – and the same complete lack of personality. Riley couldn’t imagine that there was a single thought in that well-formed head with its perfectly groomed hair.

      Agent Lloyd Havens was sitting in the passenger seat. Lean and wiry, he sported a pretentious pseudo-military posture and spoke in short, abrupt sentences. A chronic sneer didn’t add to his charm as far as Riley was concerned.

      Havens turned toward Bill and Riley.

      “I thought you guys were here in an advisory capacity,” he said. “To help develop a profile. Not to actually investigate the case. Agent Wingert and I are the team on this.”

      Riley heard Bill grumble and hurried to get in a reply first.

      “Interviewing a suspect can help us develop a profile,” she said. “We need as much information as we can pull together.”

      “Seems like overkill, the four of us interviewing Bradley,” he said. “Might spook the suspect.”

      Riley was surprised to hear him say so. After all, Sanderson had insisted upon sending all four of them. But she couldn’t disagree. Four was definitely going to be a crowd.

      “Agent Paige, Agent Jeffreys,” Havens added in that clipped, official-sounding manner of his. “No need to trouble yourselves. Agent Wingert and I will do the interview. You can wait in the car.”

      Riley exchanged shocked glances with Bill. Neither one of them knew what to say.

      Is this brat really giving us orders? Riley thought.

      Then it occurred to her that this was Sanderson’s idea, and Havens was acting on his instructions. Maybe it was Sanderson’s way of making his guests from Quantico feel thoroughly unwelcome.

      Havens continued in his brazenly self-assured tone.

      “Unusual case for a serial. Poisoning’s not at all typical. A lesser-used method. Strangulation is much more common. After that, attack-type weapons – knives, guns, blunt objects, and the like. Up close and personal, that’s the usual serial killer for you. This doesn’t fit the usual parameters.”

      He was directing his comments to Riley, as if giving her a lecture on criminology.

      A mansplainer if ever there was one, she thought with rising distaste.

      And of course, he wasn’t saying anything that she and Bill didn’t know already.

      “Oh, but there are always outliers,” Riley said, fully aware of her own condescending tone. “Agent Jeffreys and I have seen all sorts. Our last serial killer shot people completely at random, purely for the love of killing.”