Once Gone (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1)

Chapter 14

They were just a short distance out of Sanfield when Riley suddenly crossed two lanes and veered onto an exit ramp.

Bill was surprised. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Belding," Riley said.

Bill stared at her from the passenger's seat, waiting for more of an explanation.

"Margaret Geraty's husband still lives there," she said. "Roy's his name, right? Roy Geraty. And doesn't he own a filling station or something?"

"Actually, it's an auto repair and supply store," Bill said.

Riley nodded. "We're going to pay him a visit," she said.

Bill shrugged doubtfully.

"Okay, but I'm not sure why," he said. "The locals did a pretty thorough job interviewing him about his wife's murder. They didn't get any leads."

Riley didn't say anything for a while. She knew all this already. Still, she felt as if there was something yet to be learned. Some sort of loose end must have been left hanging in Belding, just a short drive away through Virginia farm country. She just had to find out what it was—if she could. But she was starting to doubt herself.

"I'm rusty, Bill," Riley muttered as she drove. "For a while back there, I was really sure that Ross Blackwell was our killer. I ought to have known better at first glance. My instincts are shot."

"Don't be too hard on yourself," Bill replied. "He seemed to fit your profile."

Riley groaned under her breath. "Yeah, but my profile was wrong. Our guy wouldn't pose dolls like that—and not in a public place."

"Why not?" Bill asked.

Riley thought for a moment.

"Because he takes dolls too seriously," she said. "They hold some really deep significance for him. It's something personal. I think he'd be offended by little stunts like Blackwell's, the way he posed them. He'd consider it vulgar. Dolls aren't toys to him. They're ... I don't know. I can't quite get it."

"I know how your mind works," Bill said. "And whatever it is will come to you eventually."

Riley fell silent as she mentally replayed some of the events of the last few days. That only heightened her sense of insecurity.

"I've been wrong about other stuff, too," she told Bill. "I thought the killer was targeting mothers. I was sure of it. But Margaret Geraty wasn't a mother. How could I get that wrong?"

"You'll hit your stride soon," Bill said.

They reached the outskirts of Belding. It was a tired-looking little town that must have been there for generations. But the nearby farms had been bought up by wealthy families who wanted to be "gentleman farmers" and still commute to power jobs in D.C. The town was fading away and one might almost drive through it without noticing it.

Roy Geraty's auto repair and supply store was impossible to miss.

Riley and Bill got out of the car and went into the rather seedy front office. No one was there. Riley rang a little bell on the counter. They waited, but no one came. After a few minutes, they ventured into the garage. A single pair of feet poked out from beneath one vehicle.

"Are you Roy Geraty?" Riley asked.

"Yeah," came a voice from under the car.

Riley looked around. There wasn't another employee in sight. Had things gotten so bad that the owner had to do everything by himself?