CHAPTER FIVE
The back door swung open under Riley’s touch, a whisper of cool air greeting her as she stepped onto the porch.
She paused, breathing deeply, steadying herself for what came next.
To catch Leo, she needed to become him—to see through his eyes, to feel the dark current of his thoughts as they had flowed through this very space a short time ago.
It was a skill that had served her well over the years, this ability to slip into the minds of killers.
But this time she needed to trace the footsteps of someone who had taken her own child.
The narrow yard beyond the deck contained only a small wrought-iron table with two chairs, a potted fern that Jilly had insisted on trying to keep alive, and the tall fence with a gate that opened to the alley behind the row of townhouses.
Riley moved toward the gate, her trained eyes scanning for details others might miss—a scuff on the paint, a displaced stone in the small path.
There was nothing obvious. Leo had been careful not to leave traces.
Riley unlatched the gate and pushed it open, stepping into the alleyway. It was quiet now, the usual sounds of the neighborhood muted by the heavy atmosphere of investigation. She knew that officers now stood at both ends of the alley, keeping the area secure.
“Where did you park, Leo?” She wondered aloud, her eyes tracing the length of the narrow alley. “Not too close—you wouldn’t risk your car being noticed by a near neighbor. But not so far that you’d have to drag a teenager for blocks.”
Her gaze settled on a spot about fifty yards down, where the alley widened slightly near a utility access point.
Perfect for a quick exit, with the car facing outward for a clean getaway.
Riley walked closer and saw that the pavement looked recently disturbed, small bits of gravel scattered in a way that suggested tires had spun slightly on departure.
She crouched down, and ran her fingers over the scattered stones. This was where he’d parked and waited. Patient. Calculating. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the mental image form.
Leo Dillard, sitting in an anonymous vehicle—rental, probably, or stolen with new plates—watching the time tick by on his expensive watch.
His heart rate steady, unlike most predators who experienced a surge of adrenaline before the hunt.
No, Leo would have been calm, almost serene in his certainty.
This was not an impulsive action for him; it was the execution of a plan long conceived.
He would have left the car precisely when he meant to, not a minute earlier or later. Each step measured, each movement choreographed in his mind beforehand. Riley stood, turning back toward her home, seeing it now through Leo’s eyes.
The row of townhouses stood in a line behind their fences, nearly identical but for the small personal touches—a different color scheme here, a window box there.
Riley knew that hers was distinguished by the security camera mounted discreetly above the back door.
Leo would have noticed it immediately, would have cataloged it as part of the challenge.
Unlike the alarm system, which he’d managed to disarm for the rear entrance, he had left the security cameras untouched.
He wanted to be seen and recorded. Wanted her to watch the footage later and witness his conquest.
The arrogance of it made her stomach churn as she retraced his steps toward her back gate. He would have moved without haste, nothing in his demeanor suggesting anything unusual if a neighbor happened to glance out a window. Just a man, perhaps delivering something or making a helpful visit.
At the gate, Riley paused, picturing Leo doing the same. From here, he would have had a clear view of the family-room window. She knew that Jilly often sat right there with her back to that window. She could almost feel Leo’s satisfaction when he spotted Jilly inside, alone and unaware.
Riley slipped back through the gate, closing it quietly behind her.
Standing in the yard, she imagined Leo surveying the back door.
He would know that the alarm system had already been turned off for that door.
This would have been the first real test of his plan—bypassing the lock without attracting attention.
She moved closer to the door, examining the lock with a critical eye. The scratches were barely visible. He’d used professional tools, the kind used by locksmiths or advanced burglars. The lock had yielded to him in under a minute, she guessed.
“He stood right here,” Riley murmured to herself, placing her hand on the doorknob. “Listening for any sound from inside before he turned it.”
She turned the handle and the door opened silently—no creaking hinges to betray an intruder.
Another detail Leo would have appreciated.
Riley stepped inside. From here, Jilly would have been only a few steps away, turned away from the door as she worked at the table, headphones on, music drowning out any subtle sounds of intrusion.
Riley moved ahead, her footfalls silent, just as Leo’s would have been. In her mind’s eye, she could see him—tall, well dressed, dark hair neatly trimmed, his face a mask of concentration as he closed the distance between himself and his unsuspecting victim.
Now the family room had been transformed by the invasive presence of the investigation. Evidence markers dotted various surfaces. Jilly’s laptop still lay on the floor where it must have fallen in the struggle.
Riley approached the overturned chair where her daughter had sat, studying. Jilly had been working on a history project—pages of notes in her distinctive handwriting were still visible on the table. So focused, so absorbed in her work that she never sensed the danger approaching.
“You stood here,” Riley whispered, positioning herself behind where Jilly would have been sitting. “You watched her for a second, savoring it.”
She could feel it now—the cold thrill that must have run through Leo as he stood in this exact spot, the silent power of the predator poised behind prey. In his hand, a taser ready. One quick movement, and Jilly would have had no chance to scream, no opportunity to fight back effectively.
The thought made rage flare hot in Riley’s chest, momentarily breaking her concentration. But she forced her anger down. Emotion wouldn’t help her now. Only clarity would.
She tried to recenter, to pick up the thread of Leo’s actions. Jilly had fought him like the little tiger that she was, but the taser … Now Riley could actually smell the chloroform, she could feel how Jilly had gone limp …
She could feel his surprise when Gabriela appeared with the gun. For a moment his arrogance had faltered …
The buzz of a phone cut through Riley’s thoughts, sharp and intrusive in the quiet room.
Her eyes snapped to the source of the sound—Jilly’s cellphone, where it had fallen on the floor during the struggle.
The screen had illuminated with an incoming text message.
Riley reached for it, her heart racing. The notification showed a message from an unknown number, but the preview text made her blood run cold:
Special Agent Paige, thought you’d want to know...
Riley picked up the phone, entered the code to unlock it. The full message appeared:
Special Agent Paige, thought you’d want to know that I’m hoping to mend fences with my family soon. It’s been too long since we’ve had a proper reunion. Leo.
A new shock spread through Riley’s mind. Leo wasn’t just taunting her—he was telegraphing his next move. Deliberately.
“Mend fences with my family.” The words echoed in her mind. This wasn’t just about Riley and Jilly anymore. Leo was planning to visit his parents next.
“Hogue!” she called out, already moving toward the front of the house. “Hogue!”
She found him in the living room, deep in conversation with one of the evidence technicians. He looked up sharply at her approach, noting her expression.
“What is it, Paige?”
Riley thrust the phone toward him. “Leo just sent a message. To Jilly’s phone, but meant for me. He’s targeting his parents next.”
Hogue took the phone, frowning as he read the text. “Could be a misdirect.”
“It’s not,” Riley said with absolute certainty. “I know how he thinks. This is exactly his style—showing us his hand just when we’re powerless to stop him. He wants us scrambling, divided.”
Hogue passed the phone to Mathers, who had appeared at his side. “Can you trace this?”
“I’ll try, but if he’s using a burner or a spoofed number...” Mathers trailed off, already typing rapidly on his tablet.
“We need to contact Charles and Elizabeth Dillard immediately,” Riley insisted. “Get them protection. Now.”
“We will,” Hogue agreed, then gestured to Jilly’s phone still in Mathers’ hand. “We need to bag this as evidence. It’s potentially crucial—”
“No,” Riley cut him off. “I need that phone. He’s using it to communicate with me specifically.”
“That’s precisely why it needs to be properly processed,” Hogue countered, his voice calm but firm. “We can’t risk contaminating evidence or missing digital forensics because—”
“I can keep monitoring it remotely,” Mathers interjected, looking up from his tablet. “I’ve already mirrored the device to our system. We’ll catch any incoming messages, track location data, everything. Agent Paige can keep the physical phone without compromising the investigation.”
Hogue hesitated, weighing the options. Riley could see the internal struggle on his face—the need to follow protocol battling with the practical reality of their situation.
“If he contacts me again,” Riley said quietly, “I need to be able to respond immediately. Every minute counts, Hogue.”
After a long moment, Hogue replied. “Mathers, you stay on that phone like it’s your firstborn. Any activity, I want to know about it within seconds.”
“Consider it done,” Mathers said. “And I’ll mirror the phones for everybody else in the family as well. He won’t be able to call anybody without my knowing it.”
Hogue turned back to Riley. “I’ll dispatch agents to the Dillards’ home now. Where do they live?”
“Georgetown,” Riley replied. “Multimillion-dollar townhouse. I’m going there myself.”
“I’d advise against that,” Hogue said, though his tone suggested he already knew it was futile. “You’re too close to this case.”
“That’s exactly why I need to be there,” Riley countered. “I understand Leo better than anyone. If he’s targeting his parents, I need to talk to them directly, find out what they know.”
Hogue sighed, recognizing the determination in her voice. “Fine. But I’m sending Gleason with you.”
“No,” Riley said firmly. “I need your team focused on finding Jilly. There will be other cops at the Dillards’ house. And get in touch with Ann Marie Esmer and put her on your team. She’s young, but she has unique skills that could help with this case. Have Siobhan call her, pick her up.”
“Esmer?” Hogue looked skeptical. “The rookie?”
“She has an intuitive understanding of how killers think,” Riley insisted. “And she’s exceptional at getting people to open up. You’ll need that skill if you’re going to find Leo’s trail.”
Hogue considered this, then said reluctantly. “I’ll make the call.”
Riley turned to find Bill standing in the doorway, his car keys already in hand. Their eyes met, a wordless exchange passing between them. They’d worked together long enough that spoken instructions were often unnecessary.
“I’ll get April,” Bill said simply. “Bring her somewhere safe.”
“Thank you,” Riley said, infusing those two words with the gratitude she couldn’t fully express. April would be devastated when she got all the news about Jilly, but at least with Bill, she would be protected.
“Be careful,” Bill added, his eyes searching hers. “Leo knows you’ll come after him. That’s part of what he wants.”
“I know,” Riley replied. “But he doesn’t know everything about me.”
As Bill headed toward the front door, Riley moved toward her own keys hanging by the entrance.
Her mind was already racing ahead, plotting the quickest route to Georgetown, anticipating what she might learn from Elizabeth and Charles Dillard.
What had driven their son to this? What secrets might they hold that could help her understand where Leo would take Jilly?
She knew that Bill had spoken with Elizabeth Dillard during an earlier case, but she felt the need to talk with the parents herself, in person.
She stepped outside into the fading afternoon light. Somewhere in the city, Leo was watching, waiting, perhaps even expecting her next move. He thought he understood her completely, thought he could manipulate her like one of his psychological experiments.
But Leo had made a critical error. He’d taken one of those that Riley loved most in the world, and in doing so, he’d unleashed something he couldn’t possibly understand. A mother’s fury. A hunter’s determination. And the full force of a mind that had tracked down dozens of killers just like him.
Riley slid into her car, started the engine, and pulled away from the curb. As she accelerated toward Georgetown, one thought burned in her mind: I’m coming, Jilly. Hold on.