Once Cold. Блейк Пирс

chair on the other side of his desk, and Riley sat down. But as he listened attentively to her description of the murders, Bill grew puzzled about her enthusiasm. Even so, he made no comment while she gave him the complete rundown of her phone conversation with Jake.

      “So what do you think?” she asked Bill when she finished.

      “About what?” Bill asked.

      “Do you want to work the case with me?”

      Bill squinted with uncertainty.

      “Sure, I’d like to, but … well, the case isn’t even open. It’s out of our hands.”

      Riley took a deep breath and said cautiously, “I was hoping you and I could fix that.”

      It took Bill a moment to catch her meaning. Then his eyes widened and he shook his head.

      “Oh, no, Riley,” he said. “This one is long gone. Meredith isn’t going to be interested in opening it up again.”

      He could see that she also had doubts, but she was trying to hide them.

      “We’ve got to try,” she said. “We can solve this case. I know it. Times have changed, Bill. We’ve got new tools at our disposal. For instance, DNA testing was in its infancy back then. Now things are different. You’re not working another case right now, are you?”

      “No.”

      “Neither am I. Why not give it a shot?”

      Bill gazed at Riley with concern. In less than a year his partner had been reprimanded, suspended, and even fired. He knew that her career had sometimes hung by a thread. The only thing that had saved her was her uncanny ability to find her prey, sometimes in unorthodox ways. That skill and his occasional covering for her had kept her in the BAU.

      “Riley, you’re asking for trouble,” he said. “Don’t rock the boat.”

      He could see her bristle at that and immediately regretted his choice of words.

      “OK, if you don’t want to do it,” she said, getting up from her chair, turning, and heading for his office door.

*

      Riley hated that phrase. “Don’t rock the boat.”

      After all, she was a boat-rocker to the core. And she knew perfectly well that it was one of the things that made her a good agent.

      She was on her way out of Bill’s office when he called, “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”

      “Where do you think I’m going?” she called back.

      “OK, OK! I’m coming!”

      She and Bill hurried down the hall toward the office of Team Chief Brent Meredith. Riley knocked on their boss’s door and heard a gruff voice call out, “Come in.”

      Riley and Bill stepped inside Meredith’s spacious office. As always, the team chief cut a daunting presence with his large physique and his black, angular features. He was hunched over his desk poring over reports.

      “Make it quick,” Meredith said without looking up from his work. “I’m busy.”

      Riley ignored Bill’s worried glance and boldly sat down beside Meredith’s desk.

      She said, “Chief, Agent Jeffreys and I want to reopen a cold case, and we wondered if – ”

      Still focused on his papers, Meredith interrupted.

      “Nope.”

      “Huh?” Riley said.

      “Request denied. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.”

      Riley stayed seated. She felt momentarily stymied.

      Then she said, “I just got off the phone with Jake Crivaro.”

      Meredith slowly lifted his head and looked at her. A smile formed on his lips.

      “How is old Jake?” he asked.

      Riley smiled too. She knew that Jake and Meredith had been close friends back during their early days at the BAU.

      “He’s grouchy,” Riley said.

      “He always was,” Meredith said. “You know, that old bastard could be downright intimidating.”

      Riley suppressed a chuckle. The very idea that Meredith would find anybody intimidating was rather funny. Riley herself had never been intimidated by Jake at all.

      She said, “Yesterday was the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Matchbook Killer’s last murder.”

      Meredith swiveled toward her in his chair, starting to look interested.

      “I remember that one,” he said. “Jake and I were both field agents back then. He never got over not being able to solve it. We talked about it over drinks a lot.”

      Meredith folded his hands together and looked at Riley intently.

      “So Jake gave you a call about it, eh? He wants to reopen the case, come out of retirement?”

      Riley felt a fleeting impulse to lie. Meredith would surely be more open to the idea if he thought it came from Jake. But she just couldn’t do it.

      “I called him, sir,” she said. “But it was already on his mind. It always is this time of year. And we talked through some possibilities.”

      Meredith leaned back in his chair.

      “Tell me what you’ve got,” he said.

      She quickly collected her thoughts.

      “Jake thinks the killer is still in the general area of the killings,” she said. “And I trust Jake’s hunches. We think he was consumed by guilt – probably still is. And I had this idea that he might regularly leave flowers on the grave of the last victim, Tilda Steen. So that’s something new to check out.”

      Riley could tell by Meredith’s face that he was getting interested.

      “That could be a really good lead,” he said. “What else have you got?”

      “Not much,” she said. “Except Jake mentioned a glass that had been picked up as evidence.”

      Meredith nodded.

      “I remember. His idiot rookie partner ruined the fingerprints.”

      Riley said, “It’s probably still in the evidence locker. Maybe we can get some DNA off of it. That wasn’t much of an option twenty-five years ago.”

      “Good,” Meredith said. “What else?”

      Riley thought for a moment.

      “We’ve got an old composite sketch of the killer,” she said. “It’s not all that good. But maybe our tech guys could age the picture, come up with some ideas about what he might look like now. I could turn it over to Sam Flores.”

      Meredith didn’t say anything right away.

      Then he looked at Bill, who was still standing near the doorway.

      “Have you got any cases going, Agent Jeffreys?”

      “No.”

      “Good. I want you to work this case with Paige.”

      Without another word, Meredith turned his attention back to his reports.

      Riley looked at Bill. Like her, he was gaping with surprise.

      “When do we start?” Bill asked Meredith

      “Five minutes ago,” Meredith said, waving them away. “What’s the matter with you two? Quite wasting time. Get to work.”

      Riley and Bill hurried out of the office, excitedly talking about how to get things underway.

      CHAPTER NINE

      A little while later, Riley was relaxing as Bill drove the FBI car to the town of Greybull, where Tilda Steen had been killed. Riley felt good to be working on a new case, especially one of her own choosing.

      It was a warm, sunny day. She