Business? Riley thought.
She had never in all these years thought of what she did as a “business.”
Now Riley’s curiosity was growing. There seemed to be a whole lotabout this kid she didn’t know.
She asked, “Tell me about that case you solved.”
Ann Marie let out a self-effacing laugh.
“Oh, it was nothing,” she said. “It would bore you, I’m sure.”
I doubt that, Riley thought.
But now was not the time to hear the story. The sheriff waspulling into the police station parking lot, so Riley followed and parked nearwhere he did. She and Ann Marie got out of their car and walked with thesheriff to the station.
The station was a large, handsome colonial building. As theywalked inside, Riley saw that the place was fully remodeled and modern-looking.Riley felt sure it was well equipped with the latest law enforcementtechnology. The people inside seemed focused on their work. It certainlyappeared that Sheriff Wightman was running a competent force, not the primitivekind of local outfit Riley and Bill often had to deal with.
She found herself wondering if any FBI agents were needed hereafter all.
For one thing, she still had no idea why the sheriff thought theymight be dealing with a serial killer, not just a one-time murderer.
As they walked by employees’ desks, everybody seemed to look upand smile at Ann Marie, and she met their eyes and smiled back at them andwaved slightly.
She’s likeable, I guess, Riley thought.
To everybody but me, apparently.
What bugged Riley was that the girl seemed to know she waslikeable—and pretty. She was clearly basking in all the attention she wasgetting from the people around her. It didn’t strike Riley as an especiallyprofessional attitude for an aspiring BAU agent.
Riley and Ann Marie followed Sheriff Wightman into a largeconference room, where a case folder lay on the table. They all sat down, andthe sheriff opened the folder and browsed through its contents.
“I guess I’d better start at the beginning,” he said. “Last yearon Halloween night, a girl went missing—seventeen-year-old Allison Hillis.”
Wightman pushed a picture of the smiling teenager across thetable for Riley and Ann Marie to see. Although she made no comment, Rileycouldn’t help comparing it to the skull on the body that had been removed fromthe grave. Could that have been what became of this healthy-looking youngster?
She knew that it very well could be. Certain kinds of monstersliked to prey on the young and attractive.
Wightman continued, “She was last seen walking on her way to aparty, dressed in a skeleton costume. Her family started calling around for herthat night, and called us the next morning. A few more days went by with nosign of her, and of course her family panicked, and so did everybody else whoknew her. Nobody thought of Allison as the kind of kid who might just run off.Of course, my people and I did everything we could to find her, to no avail.”
Fingering a piece of paper, the sheriff added, “A week later,this note was dropped off at the station.”
He laid the paper in front of Riley and Ann Marie. It was amessage made out of cut-out print letters pasted onto a sheet of blank paper.It read:
LOOKING FOR THE GIRLDRESSED LIKE DEATH?
GOOD LUCK.
NOW THE GOATMAN WILL TAKEHIS TURN
SINGING THE GOAT SONG.
“You can imagine that really got our attention,” Wightman said.
Riley nodded and said, “‘Dressed like death’—that sure soundslike Allison’s Halloween costume.”
“Right,” Wightman said. “Frankly, it also scared the hell of us.Because there was something else enclosed with the message.”
He laid out another sheet of paper—a photocopy of a map with asmall red rectangle drawn on it.
Wightman explained, “This is a map of Ironwood Park. And themarked spot shows the exact place where we were just a few minutes ago.”
Wightman shuddered a bit at the memory.
“I took several of my guys out there, and we found a mound ofdirt that looked just like a fresh grave. We expected the worst, naturally. Wethought for sure we’d find Allison’s body at the bottom of that grave. But wedug out all the dirt that had been shoveled into the hole—and nothing wasthere.”
Wightman shrugged slightly.
He said, “Naturally, we thought it was a prank—a sick joke atpolice expense, and also the expense of poor Allison’s family. With the girlstill missing, some bastard must have thought it was cute to send us outdigging up an empty hole.”
Wightman let out a weary sigh.
“Well, almost a whole year has gone by,” he said. “Every singleday since then, we’ve been trying to find out where Allison disappeared to. Tryas we might, we haven’t come up with any answers. Then last night we gotanother note.”
He pushed another piece of paper across the table—another messagewith cut-out, pasted letters:
STILL LOOKING FOR THE GIRLDRESSED LIKE DEATH?
EXPECT BETTER LUCK THISTIME.
THE GOATMAN IS STILL HUNGRY.
HE WILL FEAST AND SINGAGAIN
ON THE HALLOWED EVE
The sheriff showed them yet another piece of paper—a map justlike the other one, with a red rectangle in the same spot.
“This came with the note,” the sheriff said, tapping the map withhis forefinger. “Well, naturally, we took this to be another cruel prank. I hadhalf a mind to ignore it altogether. But I couldn’t do that—not if there waseven the slightest chance of finding Allison.”
The sheriff leaned toward Riley and Ann Marie.
He said, “So a couple of my guys and I went out again late lastnight with flashlights and shovels. When we got to the spot, it wasn’t freshlydug like before. It looked like maybe nobody had touched it for a long while,maybe since we’d filled the hole back up a year ago. But I had my guys digthere anyway.”
“And that’s when you found her,” Riley said.
Wightman nodded. “Somebody must have buried her there sometimeduring the course of the year without anybody else noticing. I wish we’dthought to keep watch over the spot. But how could we have expected anythinglike that?”
“You had no reason to think it was anything but a prank,” Rileyagreed.
“But the whole thing was weird beyond my imagining,” Wightmanreplied. “I
