Once Cold

Riley had done no such thing, and she couldn’t help feeling guilty about it.

Riley said, “I don’t know what the cabin is worth. It must be worth something. I want you to have it.”

Wendy’s eyes widened. She looked alarmed.

“No,” she said.

The bluntness of her reply startled Riley.

“Why not?” Riley asked.

“I just can’t. I don’t want it. I want to forget all about him.”

Riley knew just how she felt. She felt the same way.

Wendy added, “You should just sell it. Keep the money. I want you to.”

Riley didn’t know what to say.

Fortunately, Wendy changed the subject.

“Before he died, Dad told me you were a BAU agent. How long have you been doing that kind of work?”

“About twenty years,” Riley said.

“Well. I think Dad was proud of you.”

A bitter chuckle rose up in Riley’s throat.

“No, he wasn’t,” she said.

“How do you know?”

“Oh, he let me know. He had his own way of communicating things like that.”

Wendy sighed.

“I suppose he did,” Wendy said.

An awkward silence fell. Riley wondered what they should talk about. After all, they’d barely spoken for many years. Should they try again to figure out how to get together in person? Riley couldn’t imagine traveling to Des Moines just to see this stranger named Wendy. And she was sure Wendy felt the same way about coming to Fredericksburg.

After all, what could they possibly have in common?

At that moment, Riley’s desk phone rang. She was grateful for the interruption.

“I’d better get that,” Riley said.

“I understand,” Wendy said. “Thanks for getting in touch.”

“Thank you,” Riley said.

They ended the call and Riley answered her phone. Riley said hello, then heard a confused-sounding woman’s voice.

“Hello … who’s speaking?”

“Who’s calling?” Riley asked.

A silence fell.

“Is … is Ryan at home?” the woman asked.

Her words sounded slurred now. Riley felt pretty sure the woman was drunk.

“No,” Riley said. She hesitated for a moment. After all, she told herself, it could be a client of Ryan’s. But she knew it wasn’t. The situation was all too familiar.

Riley said, “Don’t call this number again.”

She hung up.

She bristled with anger.

It’s starting all over again, she thought.

She dialed up Ryan’s home phone number.

CHAPTER THREE

When Ryan answered the phone, Riley wasted no time getting to the point.

“Are you seeing someone else, Ryan?” she asked.

“Why?”

“A woman called here asking for you.”

Ryan hesitated before asking, “Did you get her name?”

“No. I hung up.”

“I wish you hadn’t. She might have been a client.”

“She was drunk, Ryan. And it was personal. I could hear it in her voice.”

Ryan didn’t seem to know what to say.

Riley repeated her question, “Are you seeing someone else?”

“I – I’m sorry,” Ryan stammered. “I don’t know how she got your number. It must have been some kind of mistake.”