“So the question was …” Riley began.
Finishing her thought, Ann Marie said, “What the heck was a manwho’d ‘never had a broken bone’ doing with those screws in his body? They werethe kind of thing that might be used to repair a broken ankle. It didn’t makesense—but of course it really did.”
“Did you go straight to the police?” Riley asked.
“Oh, you bet we did, Dad and I both, although Dad was prettyconfused about the whole thing. I showed the cops the screws and told them whatI thought was going on.”
Riley nodded and said, “That it was Glenn’s corpse you’dcremated, not Ethan’s.”
“Right. I figured Barbara and Ethan must have been having anaffair, and they both decided to get poor Glenn out of the way so Ethan couldtake his place as Barbara’s husband. So Ethan was still alive and now he had awife and property and a good income. The two guys looked so much alike, theydidn’t think anyone would notice the switch.”
“What did the cops say?” Riley asked.
“They acted like I was crazy,” Ann Marie scoffed. “They said they’dalready investigated the accident and found no evidence of foul play. They evensaid that it would be no surprise if a longtime climber had some kind of breakrepaired. They really just didn’t want to open a case against the man theythought was Glenn Bristow, a well-respected citizen. But I insisted that theycheck again, and this time I helped them. And sure enough, I found very slightplier marks on the harness that had failed in Glenn’s climbing equipment. Thecops just hadn’t looked carefully enough, because they’d had no reason tosuspect foul play. But I proved it was sabotage, pure and simple.”
Riley said, “I guess the rest of the case must have been prettycut and dry.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ann Marie said. “There were no medical records ofEthan ever having had any kind of surgery, but his brother had definitely hadan ankle repaired a couple of years back. After that, they could get warrantsto check fingerprints and even DNA, and it turned out my theory was right. Thecops were impressed with me, and the FBI got word of what I’d done, and … well,you know the rest.”
Riley did know the rest, indeed. Ethan Bristow and Glenn’s widowwere both found guilty of murder and sent to prison. They might have gottenaway with it if it weren’t for Ann Marie.
Ann Marie added with a shy laugh, “Anyway, like I told you—just asilly thing. Nothing at all like the cases you’re used to solving. Nothing likethe one we’re working on now.”
Riley figured it was small wonder that her partner had beenrecruited into the summer intern program, then into the academy. The kidobviously had potential.
But potential for what?
The case Ann Marie had solved was hardly a typical field case,and there was a sort of Nancy Drew quality to how she had solved it. It was allquite cerebral and free from physical risk. Riley wondered—might the kid bemore suited to a career in forensics of some sort, for example forensicmedicine?
But then Riley reminded herself of how well Ann Marie had handledherself just now, starting at the very moment when Brad Cribbins took offthrough the back door of his house. She’d been fast, shrewd, and even athletic.If it hadn’t been for Ann Marie, Cribbins might still be on the loose.
She did good work back there, Riley had to admit.
And maybe, with some luck, they had caught the killer they werelooking for. If so, maybe they’d find out when they questioned him at thepolice station. Riley certainly hoped so.
Again she remembered what the killer had said about the Goatmanin his message …
HE WILL FEAST AND SINGAGAIN
ON THE HALLOWED EVE
Riley shuddered deeply as she parked behind the sheriff’s car infront of the police station.
Halloween’s tomorrow, she thought.
We don’t have time for mistakes.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Riley kept getting flashes of déjà vu. The room on the other sideof the two-way mirror looked like a thousand interrogation rooms she’d seenbefore—the same soundproof panels on the walls, the same battleship-gray table,the same stark lighting.
As she watched and listened to Sheriff Wightman badger BradCribbins with questions, the grilling seemed all too familiar as well. Even so,she was aware that the rookie standing beside her was following the proceedingswith considerable interest.
Every interrogation is different, Riley reminded herself.She needed to watch closely to spot the differences in this one.
Ann Marie nudged her and asked, “I don’t get it. Why aren’t wein there asking the questions?”
“We’ll get our chance,” Riley said.
“But—”
Riley interrupted a bit impatiently.
“Just listen,” she said. “You might learn something.”
In fact, that was what she was hoping for herself. As far as shewas concerned, Sheriff Wightman was laying the groundwork for her ownquestions. And she was already getting a strong sense of just who Brad Cribbinswas.
As she’d observed when they’d chased him down, he was a big,muscular man—at least on the outside. But she sensed a weakness lurking justbeneath that physical strength, a kind of vulnerability that was rooted inprofound insecurity.
Many of the killers she’d hunted down had shared the samecharacteristic.
She could also tell that Wightman and Brad had acted out thisscene together many times before. She remembered Wightman telling her that BradCribbins had always been a “bad kid,” with run-ins with the law dating back towhen he was nine years old.
These two know each other well, she thought.
Right now, Wightman was trying to get the younger man to come upwith an alibi.
“We’ve been through all that,” Brad said. “I was working over atthe mall.”
Wightman snapped impatiently, “I’m not talking about when VicePrincipal Swenson disappeared. I’m talking about when Allison Hillis wentmissing.”
Riley could see Brad wince at the sound of Allison’s name. Shewondered why.
Brad said, “I’ve got no idea where I was.”
“Are you sure?” Wightman said. “It was Halloween night, a yearago tomorrow.”
Brad shrugged and smirked.
“So maybe I was trick-or-treating.”
It was obviously a wise-ass answer, but Wightman didn’t lethimself be goaded by it.
“You weren’t at work?” he asked.
“I think maybe I was between jobs around then,” Brad said.
“You have trouble holding down a job, don’t
