Sam turned to the living room, hands on her hips. “I see you like travel posters.”
He walked with her and grinned self-consciously. Quit rubbing your head; she’ll think you’re a dog. He lowered his hands and tapped his right foot.
“I’d like to go to all those places someday. It’s kinda like looking at the world. Reminds me there’s more. Never did like being shut in.”
“I like it! Well, you’ve come far. And I knew you would, didn’t I? You just had to get away from that mother of yours.”
“Aunt,” he corrected. “She never was my mother.”
“Aunt. Let’s face it, dear Aunt Balinda did you more harm than good. When did you finally leave?”
He walked past her to the kitchen. “Twenty-three. Drink?”
She followed him. “Thanks. You stayed in that house five years after I left?”
“Afraid so. You should’ve taken me with you.”
“You did it on your own—that’s better. Now look at you, you have a college degree and you’re in seminary. Impressive.”
“And you graduated valedictorian. Very impressive.” He pulled a soda from the fridge, popped the tab, and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said. “For the compliment.” She winked at him and took a sip. “The drink’s nice too. How often do you go back?”
“Where? To the house? As little as possible. I’d rather not talk about that.”
“I think that thatmight be tied to this, don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
Samantha set the can down on the counter and looked at him, suddenly dead serious. “Someone’s stalking you. And by the sound of it, me. A killer who uses riddles who’s selected us for his own reasons. Revenge. Hate. The baser motivations. We can’t shut out the past.”
“Right to the point.”
“Tell me everything.”
“Starting—”
“Starting with the phone call in your car.” She walked to the front door.
Kevin followed. “Where are you going?”
“We. Come on, let’s take a drive. He’s obviously listening to everything we say in here—let’s make his life a little more interesting. We’ll take my car. Hopefully he hasn’t gotten to it yet.”
They climbed into a beige sedan and Samantha drove into the night. “That’s better. He’s probably using lasers.”
“Actually, I think you’re right,” Kevin said.
“He told you that?”
“Something like that.”
“Every detail, Kevin. I don’t care how insignificant, I don’t care what you told the cops, I don’t care how embarrassing or stupid or crazy it sounds, I want everything.”
Kevin did as she requested, eagerly, with passion, as if it were his first real confession. Sam drove haphazardly and stopped him frequently to ask questions.
When was the last time you left your car unlocked?
Never that I can remember.
Do you lock your car when it’s in the garage?
No.
A nod. Did the police find a timing device?
Not that he knew about.
You found the ribbon behind the lamp?
Yes.
Did Slater call me Sam or Samantha?
Samantha.
An hour passed and they covered every conceivable detail of the day’s events, including the information he’d hidden from Milton. Everything except his speculation that Slater could be the boy. He’d never told Sam the whole truth about the boy, and he wasn’t eager to do so now. If Slater wasn’t the boy, which he claimed not to be, there was no need to dig up that matter. He’d never told Sam the whole truth and he wasn’t eager to do so now.
“How long can you stay?” Kevin asked after a lull.
Sam glanced at him with a coy smile. “The big boy needs a girl in his court?”
Kevin grinned sheepishly. She hadn’t changed a bit. “Turns out girls make or break me.”
She arched her brow. “I technically have a week off to finish my move. I have boxes overflowing in my kitchen still. The case I was assigned to when I first arrived a couple months ago has been pretty quiet, but it just heated up. I wouldn’t be surprised if they called me in.”
“California Bureau of Investigation, huh? Big change from New York.”
“Not really, other than being new. I’ve managed to do a couple things right and have my department head appropriately impressed at the moment, but I still have to earn my stripes with them, if you understand how law enforcement works. Same thing with the CIA before I switched to this job.”
“CBI, CIA—gets a bit confusing,” Kevin said. “You glad you made the move?”
She looked at him and grinned. “I’m closer to you, aren’t I?”
He nodded and turned sheepishly. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this. Really.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Can’t you pull some strings?” He faced her. “Convince them to let you stay down here?”
“Because I know you?”
“Because you’re involved now. He knowsyou, for heaven’s sake!”
“It doesn’t work that way. If anything, that’s reason for them to remove me from the case.” She stared ahead, lost in thought. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. The CBI is made of a dozen units, roughly a hundred agents in all. My unit is unique—hardly known to most agents. We work outside the system, technically part of the Bureau, but it’s directed as much by the attorney general. Troubleshooting the harder cases. We have some latitude and discretion.” She looked at him. “You, my dear, are definitely within the scope of the discretion. More than you know.”
Kevin stared out his window. Black. Slater was out there somewhere. Maybe watching them now. A shiver ran down his spine.
“So. What do you think?”
Sam pulled the car to the curb a block from Kevin’s house and shoved the stick into park. “I think that we have no choice but to follow Slater’s demands. So far the demands involve no one but you. This isn’t like a threat of terror, where either we release a hostage or they blow a building. This is either you confess or he blows up your car. Confession doesn’t exactly pose a threat to society.” She nodded to herself. “For now we don’t involve the police like he wants. But we also take him at his word. He said cops—we avoid the cops. That excludes the FBI. We tell the FBI everything.”
She cracked her window and stared at the sky. “I also think that Richard Slater is someone one or both of us knew or know. I think his motivation is revenge and I think he means to extract it in a way that will never be forgotten.” She looked at him. “There has to be someone, Kevin.”
He hesitated and then fed her part of the truth. “No one. The only enemy I can even remember having is that boy.”
“What boy?”
“You know. Remember that boy who was spying on you when we were kids? The one who beat me up?”
She grinned. “The one you saved me from?”
“I asked Slater if he was the boy,” Kevin said.
“Did you, now? You omitted that little detail.”
“It was nothing.”
“I said everydetail, Kevin. I don’t care if you think it’s nothing or not. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘What boy?’ It’s not him.”
She didn’t respond.
A car drove by. SUV with bright taillights.
“Ever hear of the Riddle Killer?” Sam asked.
Kevin sat up. “On the news tonight.”
“The Riddle Killer was given that name for a series of murders up in Sacramento over the last twelve months. It’s been three months since his last victim—the brother of an FBI agent who was on his tail. I can guarantee that the FBI will be all over this. Same MO. Guy calls on the phone with a riddle and then executes his punishment if the riddle goes unsolved. Low, gravelly voice. Sophisticated surveillance. Sounds like the same guy.”