“And now she’s dead.”
He was weeping softly now.
“I was mad at her when I put her name on that list,” he said. “Iguess I was kind of mad at the world. I still get that way from time to time.But I never meant her any harm. I liked her a lot. She was a wonderful girl.Too wonderful for a guy like me. I should have just accepted that. That lasttext I sent … I shouldn’t have been mean like that … I should have just said, ‘Iunderstand.’”
He kept crying quietly.
Riley felt startled. Whatever she was expecting to hear from him,this wasn’t it.
Was he the murderer they were looking for?
Maybe, Riley told herself. Don’t count him out yet.
This show of grief could all be an act. A true sociopath could fakeall the emotions Brad was showing right now. On the other hand, his emotionscould be authentic. Even if he really was the killer, he could genuinely feelguilty about killing this particular girl.
But Riley was far from sure of what to think.
She reached into her mind for a different approach, and somethingstarted to occur to her. In the research Bill had done yesterday, he had founda connection between the killer’s messages and the origin of the word “tragedy.”
He’d told her about it on the phone.
“The Greek word ‘tragedy’ literally means ‘goat song.’”
Maybe that’s the key, Riley thought.
She leaned across the table and spoke in a sympathetic voice.
“I’m sorry. It was a real … tragedy, wasn’t it? Not justfor Allison, but for you too.”
He glanced up at her when she emphasized the word tragedy. Rileystudied his face, trying to gauge his reaction. Did the word evoke anything inhim? Did it seem to have any significance for him?
Then Brad shrugged and said, “I guess so, if you want to put itthat way. I just … hate feeling this way about it. I feel so bad.”
Try as she might, Riley simply couldn’t read his expression. Butshe didn’t sense that the word had any significance to him. As he slumped downin his chair, she tried to think of yet another approach. She hastilyconsidered details of the case that weren’t yet public knowledge, even thoughMadge Torrance knew more about them than she ought to.
She said cautiously, “Brad, what do you know about the Goatman?”
Brad looked up at Riley in apparent surprise.
“What?” he asked.
Ann Marie put in, “Have you heard of him? The Goatman?”
Brad wrinkled his brow.
“You mean that monster people talk about over around Beltsville?What’s that got to do with anything?”
Brad wasn’t crying anymore. He just looked confused, but Rileysensed that it wasn’t because she had touched a nerve. Instead, she got thestrong feeling that he really had no idea why she’d mentioned the Goatman. Thequestion had just seemed weird and out of the blue to him.
She also sensed that he’d told them everything he was going totell them.
Before Ann Marie could ask any more questions, Riley spoke tohim.
“Thanks for your time, Brad.”
“Wait a minute,” Brad said. “Aren’t I getting out of here?”
“That will be up to Sheriff Wightman,” Riley said. “Like I saidbefore, resisting arrest is a crime.”
Without another word, Riley got up from the table. Ann Mariefollowed her out into the adjoining room, where they found Sheriff Wightmanpacing impatiently.
“Why did you quit questioning him?” Wightman asked. “He was aboutto crack. He was about to confess.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Riley said.
“Why not?” Wightman asked.
“I don’t think he had anything to confess,” she replied. “Becausein spite of all his shortcomings, he’s not our killer.”
Riley felt a chill to hear herself say that. She hadn’t been sureof it herself until now that the words were out of her mouth.
Wightman’s eyes widened.
“What do you mean, he’s not our killer? Hell, you got him toadmit that he knew Allison Hillis—not only knew her, but was angry with her.And they didn’t even go to the same schools. Do you call that a coincidence?”
“Yes, I do.”
“That’s crazy.”
Riley stifled a groan of frustration.
Apparently she was going to have to educate this seasoned lawmanabout a basic fact of investigative work.
“Coincidences happen, Sheriff Wightman,” she said. “In fact, they’reinevitable in our line of work, and they can be really misleading. You ought toknow that.”
Wightman’s face reddened. He obviously didn’t like beingcontradicted.
“I’m sure as hell not going to let him go,” Wightman said.
“Then don’t,” Riley said. “Like I told him just now, it’s yourdecision. He’s guilty of resisting arrest, but he has been cooperative duringquestioning.” She took a breath then added, “We’re not finished with this caseyet. If I’m right, there’s still a killer out there, and—”
Wightman interrupted, “And I’m sure you’re wrong. We’ve got ourman, and we can prove it. That’s what we should focus on. I’m going in thereand I’m going to keep questioning him.”
“Go ahead,” Riley said.
Wightman continued, “And I’m going to wrap this up once and forall. If we keep chasing after somebody who doesn’t exist, we’ll just bespinning our wheels and wasting resources and taxpayer money. I won’t have it.”
“What are you saying?” Ann Marie asked.
Wightman scowled.
“I’m saying I won’t be needing BAU help anymore. You’re here atmy request, and you stay at my pleasure. I’m telling you to go back toQuantico. The sooner the better.”
Riley was angry as well. But she knew better than to lose hertemper.
Things are bad enough as it is.
She said in a tight, controlled voice, “Whoever the killer is, hesaid he’s going to strike again tomorrow—or try to. At least impose a curfewfor tomorrow night.”
Wightman scoffed. “And call off Halloween?”
Riley nodded.
Wightman shook his head incredulously.
“The whole town will be furious,” he said.
“So what if they are?” Riley said. “It isn’t your job to makeeverybody happy all the time. Are you sure you want to risk the public’ssafety? Do you want another murder on your head?”
Wightman’s eyes narrowed, and he fell silent for a moment.
“I’ll order the curfew,” he said. “But I won’t be needing the twoof you anymore.”
Riley nodded brusquely. As she and Ann Marie headed out of thebooth, Sheriff Wightman was already on his
