Once Cold

“So when do you and your family want to come over to the restaurant? Tonight, maybe?”

Riley hated to put the whole thing on hold. But what else could she do?

“Blaine, I’m out of town right now, working on a case. I’ll be back later today, but I might have to keep working.”

“How about tomorrow, then?” Blaine asked.

Riley suppressed a sigh. Things had gotten awkward fast. The last thing she wanted was for Blaine to think she was pushing him away again. But with a new case underway, she simply didn’t know when she would be able to accept his invitation.

The awkwardness was compounded by Bill’s glances at her from behind the wheel. It was obvious from his mischievous grin that he’d heard who she was talking to.

Riley felt herself blush.

She said, “Blaine, I’m so sorry. I just don’t know right now when it’ll be possible.”

Blaine didn’t reply. Riley knew that he must feel a bit puzzled. After all, she had sounded so eager in her message. She figured that honesty was the best approach.

“I’m not being coy, Blaine. I’m really not. I promise, when this case gets settled, we’ll come to your restaurant the first chance we get. And we’ll return the invitation. Gabriela will cook up something wonderful for you and Crystal.”

Now she could hear a smile in Blaine’s voice.

“Great. I’ll let you get back to work, then.”

They ended the call. Bill’s grin widened, and Riley’s blush deepened.

“So who was that?” Bill asked.

“Mind your own business,” Riley said with a slight giggle.

Bill let out a peal of laughter.

“No, I don’t think I will, Riley. I think I still qualify as your best friend. I’m supposed to be nosy. That was Blaine, wasn’t it? Your nice handsome neighbor.”

Riley silently nodded.

Bill said, “So are you going to tell me what’s going on, or what? The last I heard, Blaine had moved across town and you were trying to fix things up with Ryan.”

Riley remembered how hotly Bill had protested when she told him that she and Ryan were getting back together.

“Do I need to remind you of everything that guy did to hurt you?” Bill had said. “Because I can remember every detail.”

“Whatever you do, don’t say ‘I told you so.’”

“Why not?” Bill asked.

Riley sighed aloud now.

There’s no use fighting it, she thought.

There was nothing she could do except swallow her pride.

“Because you did. Tell me so. And you were right. Ryan’s the same old insufferable, unreliable Ryan.”

“He bailed on you, huh? I’m sorry to hear that.” He sounded genuinely sympathetic. “It must be tough on the kids.”

Riley couldn’t bring herself to tell him how true that was.

“Anyway,” Bill said, “I’m glad you’re finally giving ‘Mr. Right’ a chance.”

Riley groaned with exasperation. She wanted to throw something at him. Instead, she joined in his laughter.

Her phone buzzed again. She saw that it was a message from Sam Flores.

Riley was glad to have her attention snapped back to the job at hand. Before they’d left Quantico, she and Bill had talked to Sam Flores, the head of the lab team. They asked him to get right to work looking for DNA on the glass and aging the old composite sketch.

Riley checked her tablet computer. Sure enough, Sam had sent her some new sketches of the suspect.

“He sent the new pics,” Riley said.

“How do they look?”

“They’re not much to look at, but they’ll do,” Riley said.

Riley compared the sketches Sam and his team had put together to the old sketch. The original hadn’t been very lifelike. The artist had been too careful. In Riley’s experience, a little imagination and creativity sometimes helped capture a suspect’s personality.

Still, Riley could see that Sam and his tech people had done a good job with what they had to work with. They’d tried to cover a range of possibilities. In one of the sketches, the man looked much as he had in the old sketch, except with more lines and wrinkles and graying hair. In another, he had put on more weight, and his jowls drooped. A third showed him with a beard and mustache.

Riley knew better than to show all three new sketches to potential witnesses at the same time. They’d only get confused. She had to choose just one of them.

She had a hunch that the sketch that most closely resembled the original would be the best one to work with. She didn’t know exactly why. Something about the original’s expression suggested someone who might not deliberately change his appearance over the years. Also, the man seemed to have a distinctly thin body type. Riley guessed that he wouldn’t have put on much weight.

Of course, she could be completely wrong. But she knew that it was best to trust her instincts.

Just then they pulled into the sleepy little town of Greybull. Riley figured that it had a population of less than a thousand people.

“Where’s our first stop?” Bill asked.

“The cemetery,” Riley said.

She gave Bill directions, and they arrived at the cemetery within minutes. Riley brought up a map of the cemetery on her tablet. She and Bill got out of the car and wended their way among the tombstones.

Soon they found the grave that they were looking for. It was marked by a modest, average-sized stone with the inscription …

TILDA ANN STEEN

beloved friend and daughter

1972–1992