CHAPTER ONE
The pancake batter sizzled as it hit the hot surface of the griddle, releasing a comforting aroma that filled the kitchen.
Riley Paige flipped the golden disk, adding it to the growing stack on a nearby plate.
Saturday mornings had become special in the Paige household—a rare island of normalcy in the chaotic sea of her life as an FBI agent.
Even with April away at college and Bill off on an FBI case, Riley maintained the ritual of making a pancake breakfast. She wore a simple gray t-shirt and faded jeans—weekend clothes that allowed her to relax physically while her mind remained perpetually alert.
Behind her, Gabriela moved quietly, taking plates and silverware out to the dining room where there would be space for everyone to sit down. Riley put a cover over the platter of pancakes to keep them warm and followed behind her.
The long maple table was surrounded by six chairs, each one symbolizing a place for every family member plus an extra. However, only three of those seats would be occupied today.
Riley’s youngest daughter, Jilly, sat at one end of the table, her dark hair falling over her face as she focused on her homework.
A laptop lay open in front of her, its screen casting a soft glow across her features.
She kept her focus on the screen even as her big-eared little dog, Darby, and her sister’s black-and-white cat, Marbles, scampered playfully in and out of the room.
“This is so unfair,” Jilly groaned. “Who assigns this much homework on a weekend? It’s like Ms. Tennyson thinks we don’t have lives.”
Riley smiled. “I seem to remember April saying the exact same thing when she was in Ms. Tennyson’s class.”
“Yeah, well, April’s smart,” Jilly muttered. “She probably finished this stuff in like twenty minutes.”
“Your sister worked very hard for her grades,” Riley said, her tone gentle but firm.
“Just like you’re working hard now.” She reached across to tuck a strand of hair behind Jilly’s ear, revealing the girl’s scowl.
The gesture was a small connection with the teenager who had once been a desperate child on the streets of Phoenix.
“Almost time,” Jilly noted, abandoning her homework without hesitation. “Should we use the laptop instead of the phone? The screen’s bigger.”
Riley nodded. “Good call.”
As Gabriela finished setting the table for breakfast, she placed a small vase containing three yellow daisies on the table—a touch of brightness.
Just then, the laptop chimed.
“It’s her!” Jilly exclaimed unnecessarily as she accepted the video call.
The emotions Riley felt about April’s absence at college had surprised her with their intensity.
Pride dominated—pride in April’s scholarship, her determination to follow a challenging path despite the traumas she’d experienced in her young life.
But beneath that pride lurked a persistent worry.
The world contained dangers that most parents never imagined, dangers that Riley had confronted firsthand.
Knowing what humans were capable of made letting go of her daughter almost unbearable.
“Isn’t it working yet?” Jilly asked.
“Almost,” Riley replied, clicking the video icon for the third time. “The internet’s being temperamental.”
Then the connection stabilized, and April’s face filled the screen—familiar yet somehow different, as if college had already begun reshaping her into someone new. Her dark hair was pulled back in a messy bun, tendrils escaping around her face in a way that reminded Riley of her own younger self.
“Hey, Mom!” April’s smile brightened her entire face. “And Jilly! And Gabriela! Is everyone there?”
“We’re all here, honey,” Riley said, feeling the familiar tug in her chest—pride mixed with the ache of separation. “Bill’s joining too,” she added. “He’s out in Nashville on a case, but he should be connecting any—”
The screen split, making room for Bill’s tired face. He sat propped against a hotel headboard. His expression brightened visibly at the sight of them.
“There’s my favorite Paige women,” he said. “And Gabriela, of course. How’s everyone doing?”
“Bill!” April’s excitement was palpable. “So glad you’re here!”
“So, do you have any news?” Bill asked.
“Do I ever!”
For the next ten minutes, April bubbled with stories—the late-night study group that turned into an impromptu pizza party, the intimidating library with its labyrinthine stacks, the roommate who organized her sock drawer by color gradient.
“And how about classes?” Riley asked during a natural pause. “Are they what you expected?”
“Mostly,” April said, shifting slightly in her desk chair.
The movement caused her laptop to reveal more of her dorm room—a slightly rumpled bed, a half-empty coffee cup on the windowsill.
“Psych 101 is basically a review of what you taught me over the years, Mom. Introduction to Criminal Justice is fascinating—we’re covering investigative procedures next week.
American Politics is... interesting. The professor’s super intense. ”
“What about the social scene?” Bill asked, his voice casual. “Meeting new people? Making friends?”
“Yeah, tons,” April said, her posture relaxing slightly.
“My roommate introduced me to her high school friends, and there’s this group from my dorm floor that gets together for dinner most nights.
” She hesitated, then added with forced nonchalance, “I actually met this interesting guy in my American Politics class last week.”
Riley’s attention sharpened, though she kept her expression neutral. “Oh? Tell us about him.”
“Not much to tell, really,” April said with a small shrug that seemed rehearsed. “We just chatted for a bit after class.” She took a sip from a water bottle beside her. “We grabbed coffee at the cafeteria, but then he kind of disappeared. Hasn’t been back to class since.”
Bill’s eyes met Riley’s through their respective screens—a quick, concerned glance.
“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” Riley asked.
“Just, you know, stopped showing up,” April replied. “But he was only auditing the class anyhow.”
Jilly, who had been quiet throughout most of the conversation, leaned closer to the screen. “Was he cute?” she asked with the blunt curiosity of a fifteen-year-old.
April rolled her eyes but smiled. “I guess? Kind of intense looking. Dark hair, really confident. He knew a lot about the FBI, actually.” She looked directly at Riley.
“So does this guy have a name?” Jilly asked.
“Yeah, his name is Leo.”
Riley was seized by a chill from head to foot.
Could it be … ? she wondered.
“Leo Dillard?” she asked.
“Yeah, that’s right. Do you know him?
That name hit Riley like a physical blow. She watched April’s innocent expression through the screen, her daughter utterly unaware of the bomb she’d just detonated.
On screen, Bill’s expression changed instantly—his features hardening in the space of a heartbeat.
April quickly picked up on their reactions. “Mom? What’s the matter? Do you know him or something?”
Gabriela, sensing the shift in atmosphere, moved closer to Riley, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder. Jilly looked from Riley to the screen and back, her young face registering that something was very wrong.
“April,” Riley said, her voice steadier than she felt, “I need you to tell me exactly what Leo Dillard said to you.”
The name alone conjured images of her classroom at Quantico, of a tall student with unnervingly intense eyes who had lingered after lectures, his questions growing increasingly personal until he had crossed a line physically.
Riley filed a report at Quantico and had thought that was the end of it.
She hadn’t seen him since. But now, somehow, he had found her daughter.
Riley forced herself to meet April’s eyes on the screen. “Leo Dillard was a student in my criminal profiling class at Quantico last semester,” she said, measuring each word carefully. “He became... problematic.”
“Problematic how?”
Bill leaned forward on his screen. “April, this guy developed an unhealthy fixation on your mother.”
“He was obsessed,” Riley continued, watching her daughter’s expression shift from confusion to dawning comprehension. She quickly decided not to describe his attempt to kiss her in her office. “After security confronted him, he disappeared. Dropped out of the academy program entirely.”
April’s face drained of color, mirroring Riley’s own pallor. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “He—he never mentioned knowing you. He just asked about my last name, and when I said ‘Paige,’ he seemed really interested, but I thought...” Her voice trailed off.
“This wasn’t a coincidence,” Bill said grimly. “He sought you out specifically.”
Riley felt Gabriela’s hand tighten on her shoulder. Beside her, Jilly had gone completely still.
“April, I need you to think carefully,” Riley said. “What happened between the two of you?”
April closed her eyes momentarily, visibly trying to organize her thoughts.
“There’s not much to tell. I noticed him in class, and I guess he noticed me.
We ran into each other in the cafeteria, and he said he’d actually been looking a chance to talk to me.
I was flattered, I guess. He said it was good to make a friend.
He felt kind of isolated, not being an enrolled student yet. ”
“Did he say anything else about Quantico? About his instructors there?” Riley pressed.
“No, he didn’t even mention going there.”
“What did he tell you about himself?”
“Not much. He transferred from somewhere else. Said he was staying off-campus but didn’t specify where.” April’s voice gained strength as she recalled details.
Jilly moved closer to the screen, her face tight with worry. “Is April in danger?” she asked bluntly.
The question gave voice to the fear now in the room. Riley glanced at her younger daughter, torn between honesty and the desire to protect both her children from unnecessary terror.
“We don’t know that,” she said carefully. “But we need to take precautions.”
“I’ll contact campus security,” Bill interjected. “Get them a description and Dillard’s file from Quantico.”
Riley nodded. “April, I want you to stay with friends as much as possible. No going anywhere alone, especially after dark. And if you see him again—”
“Call 911 immediately,” April finished, her voice small but resolute. “I know the drill, Mom.”
Riley began mentally calculating next steps—calling Jefferson Bell’s security office herself, arranging for protection, possibly driving up to campus first thing in the morning. She could pull some strings, get a local FBI field agent to check in on April until they determined the level of threat.
Her cellphone, lying on the table beside the laptop, vibrated against the wooden table with a harsh buzz. The distinctive ringtone—a no-nonsense triple beep she’d assigned specifically to Brent Meredith—punctuated the tense silence.
Riley stared at the phone, momentarily frozen by indecision. Meredith would never call on a Saturday unless it was urgent. As the phone continued its insistent rhythm, Bill’s expression told her what she already knew—some calls couldn’t be ignored, no matter the timing.
“I should take this,” she said reluctantly, reaching for the phone.
April nodded, attempting a brave smile. “It’s okay. I understand.”
Riley pressed the accept button, keeping the laptop screen in view. “Paige,” she answered,
“I need you and Esmer in my office ASAP,” Meredith’s gruff voice commanded, skipping any greeting. “New assignment.”
Riley watched April on the screen, saw Jilly’s concerned face hovering at the edge of the frame, felt Gabriela’s steadying presence behind her. “Sir, I’m in the middle of a family situation right now. My daughter at college—”
“This can’t wait, Paige,” Meredith cut her off, his tone brooking no argument.
“Atlanta PD just called in a high-profile murder that matches the signature of a case we’ve been tracking.
If you still want to head up a team that takes cases instead of just teaching, you have to be with us on this one. ”
“I understand, sir, but this is—”
“A plane will be waiting,” Meredith interrupted again. “Wheels up in ninety minutes. Esmer’s already on her way in.”
The line went dead before Riley could respond further. She lowered the phone slowly, looking from it to the concerned faces on her screen, duty and family pulling her in opposite directions. This case had to be high-profile, or Meredith wouldn’t be so demanding.
“You have to go,” April said quietly, reading her mother’s expression. “It’s okay, Mom. Really.”
“I’ll cut my Nashville case short,” Bill said immediately. “I can be at Jefferson Bell by tomorrow afternoon.” His eyes met Riley’s through the screen—steady, reassuring. “I’ll personally check things out, make sure campus security is on alert.”
Riley exhaled slowly, grateful for Bill’s solution. After all, it had been her decision to be a field agent again as well as a parent.
Was she going to regret it?