“I want to go there anyway.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense,” Ann Marie said.
Riley felt a flash of impatience. Ann Marie clearly didn’tunderstand that Riley sometimes acted on pure instinct, without any rationalreasons. Her hunches didn’t always prove to be right, but they often steeredher in the right direction.
Riley said, “Look, it’s OK with me if you don’t want to comealong. Go back to the car if you like.”
Riley was surprised by the sharpness in her own voice. She couldsee that her words had hurt Ann Marie’s feelings.
Ann Marie shrugged slightly and said, “OK, fine.”
She turned away and walked away.
Riley almost called out to apologize and tell the rookie to comeback, but she quickly thought better of it. Having Ann Marie around was alreadyhaving a detrimental effect on her ability to focus. Maybe just a few minuteswithout her was exactly what she needed right now.
She walked into the park and looked around. As Ann Marie hadsaid, most of the park extended away from the direction they’d been checking.But this narrow end of it was close to this sidewalk that the missing girlmight have been using.
Riley walked onto a path that wound across the well-groomed grassand tried to imagine what this area had looked like on Halloween night. Hadthere been lots of kids roaming these paths?
No, she thought. They’d have been busy going house tohouse.
Besides, their parents would probably have warned them away fromhere. The paths were well-lighted, but there were also bushes and small woodedareas where someone might lie in wait. This was not a good place for kids to playat night.
But Ann Marie was right about one thing. There was no apparentreason for Allison Hillis to have taken a detour in this direction.
Unless …
Had someone perhaps enticed her into the park?
If so, how?
She couldn’t quite make sense of it. Even so, a familiar feelingstarted to come over her—a sense of the killer’s presence, of what he mighthave been thinking and feeling as he’d lurked in any of a dozen places she sawaround her.
Riley breathed long and slowly.
Yes, it had been a good thing to get Ann Marie out of the way.These instinctual moments were Riley’s greatest asset as a BAU agent. There wasnothing psychic or supernatural about her feelings of connection with a killer,and sometimes her gut feelings turned out to be flat-out wrong. But oftenenough, they led to productive insights.
She kept breathing slowly as she walked along and let her minddrift where it might. She wished she could guess which of these wooded or bushyspots the killer might have chosen for a hiding place.
She stopped at the first patch of shrubbery she came to andstepped behind it and crouched there. Sure enough, she could see that he’d hada clear view of the lighted street if he’d chosen this particular spot. Hecould have watched kids wander up and down the street without his presencebeing suspected.
It was easy for Riley to imagine how he might have felt as hecrouched in wait.
Mysterious.
Powerful.
Dangerous.
Riley also guessed that he didn’t experience those feelings inhis everyday life. Far from it, he might well feel weak, inadequate, andineffective.
But here he felt like … what?
The Goatman, Riley thought.
She remembered what Sheriff Wightman had said about the Goatmanlegend. It was the story of a hybrid creature, half man and half goat, hungryfor human blood.
Did the killer actually imagine himself to be the Goatman?
Riley didn’t know. Perhaps he fancied himself more as the Goatman’sminion, his loyal helper. In any case, his sense of connection to the Goatmanlegend elevated him above the blandness of ordinary everyday life.
Still looking toward the street, Riley wondered …
What might he have been waiting for?
And who?
Did he know his victim already—well enough to know what route she’dtake while walking to a party on Halloween night? Riley somehow doubted it. Shewas sure he’d come here fully prepared to kill, but she got the feeling thathis choice of victims was impulsive, almost random.
Or maybe not quite random.
Looking through the branches, Riley imagined how the killer’sheart would have quickened to see the specter of death walking alone along thestreet. Of course he would have known that it wasn’t really a walking skeletonbut a young person wearing a costume.
But even so, the girl in that costume would have seemed theperfect prey, as if fate had dropped her into his waiting hands.
And she had been alone.
But how had he approached her?
Maybe he didn’t approach her at all.
Riley reminded herself of her feeling that he had somehow enticedhis victim.
But how could he have done that?
How could he have lured the girl away from the safety of awell-lighted street into the murkier park?
She remembered something from one of the notes the killer hadsent.
NOW THE GOATMAN WILLTAKE HIS TURN
SINGING THE GOAT SONG.
Did he sing to her? Riley wondered.
Or maybe whistle?
The sheer absurdity of the idea struck her in an instant.
Singing or whistling behind a bush was hardly any way to enticea young girl off the street and into the park.
In fact, it was surely the perfect way to scare her away.
Riley’s sense of connection of the killer suddenly evaporatedwith the ridiculousness of the notion.
She sighed aloud. She knew from experience that she wasn’t goingto be able to slip back into that state of mind—not here, not right now.
It’s over, she thought. I might as well head back tothe car.
When she got back to her feet, her cell phone rang.
Her spirits rose to see that Bill was the caller.
She sighed with relief.
Just who I need to hear from, she thought.
CHAPTER NINE
Bill’s heart warmed at the sound of Riley’s voice answering thephone.
He’d never enjoyed working at his desk, but he’d been hunkereddown in his office doing research at his computer for hours now. He reallywanted to get out of here soon, but even though he didn’t have anything reallyurgent to report to Riley, he did want to talk with her rather than just emailher the results of his investigations.
Working separately
