CHAPTER ONE
“Remember,” Riley Paige said, tapping her marker against the whiteboard where she’d mapped out the psychological progression of predatory behavior, “the fantasy phase often precedes the stalking phase by months, sometimes years. The subject builds elaborate mental scenarios, honing and perfecting them until reality can no longer satisfy the idealized version they’ve created. ”
Her voice carried strong and clear to the attentive faces before her—the FBI’s brightest recruits, eager and full of potential.
Based on her years with the Behavioral Analysis Unit, Riley was helping to arm them with the tools and understanding they would need in their future careers.
As she wrapped up her final point on the psychology of serial offenders, her gaze drifted involuntarily to the third row, fifth seat from the left.
Empty. Just as it had been for the past month, ever since Leo Dillard had cornered her in her office after class and had tried to kiss her.
A student in the front row raised her hand, dragging Riley back to the present.
“Yes, Agent Calloway?”
“Is it possible for someone to move from fantasy directly to violence without the intermediate stalking phase?”
Riley was grateful for the distraction. “Absolutely. While the progression I’ve outlined is common, psychological triggers—stress, rejection, opportunity—can accelerate the timeline dramatically.”
As she elaborated on the answer, a glance at her watch told her the lecture was running over.
“That’s all for today,” she said. “Your assignment on victimology profiles is due next Tuesday. My office hours remain the same for those who need additional guidance.”
The rustle of papers and quiet conversations filled the room as students gathered their materials.
Several approached the podium with questions, which Riley answered, all while fighting the urge to check her phone for updates from the Jefferson Bell University security team.
Just two weeks into her daughter April’s freshman year, Leo Dillard had turned up there and introduced himself to her, making no mention of that episode with Riley or how he’d left the academy after receiving a reprimand.
When the last student finally departed, Riley packed up her laptop and headed for the parking lot. The September afternoon had turned cool, a hint of autumn crispness in the air that would normally have lifted her spirits. Today, it merely intensified her sense of unease.
Her phone rang just as she reached her car. The caller ID displayed “JBU Security.” Riley’s pulse quickened as she answered.
“Agent Paige.”
“Agent Paige, this is Marcus Donovan, head of security at Jefferson Bell.” The man’s voice sounded uneasy. “I’m calling about the surveillance on your daughter.”
Riley leaned against her car. “Go on.”
“I’m sorry to inform you that we can no longer maintain round-the-clock surveillance on April. We’ve stretched our resources as far as possible these past two weeks, but with parents’ weekend approaching and several campus events requiring additional coverage, I simply don’t have the personnel.”
A knot formed in Riley’s stomach. “Mr. Donovan, I understand your constraints, but you’re aware of my concerns regarding Leo Dillard.”
“Yes, ma’am, and we take those concerns seriously.
” Donovan’s tone held genuine regret. “We’ll continue regular patrols past April’s residence hall, and I’ve personally briefed all my officers on Dillard’s description.
But the dedicated guard outside her dorm and the escort between classes—that’s what we can’t sustain. ”
Riley closed her eyes briefly, fighting back frustration. She knew the reality of security budgets and personnel limitations all too well. Jefferson Bell wasn’t a federal institution; they had no obligation to provide this level of protection to begin with.
“When does this change take effect?” she asked, her voice tight.
“Tomorrow morning. I wanted to give you advance notice.”
“I appreciate that.” Riley glanced at her watch. “And I appreciate everything your team has done so far.”
After ending the call, Riley stood motionless beside her car, the phone still clutched in her hand. April was seventeen, starting college, determined to follow in her mother’s footsteps into law enforcement. She couldn’t be wrapped in cotton wool forever.
But Leo Dillard wasn’t just any threat. Riley had seen his file, had interviewed his parents after his disappearance.
The calculated destruction of his sister’s life, leading to her suicide, painted a picture of a methodical, patient predator—one who now seemed fixated on Riley and, by extension, those she loved most.
With a deep breath, Riley unlocked her car and slid behind the wheel.
She had a forty-minute drive to Fredericksburg ahead of her, time enough to formulate a new security plan for April.
Because if there was one thing Riley Paige knew with absolute certainty, it was that she would not allow Leo Dillard to harm another young woman—especially not her daughter.
When Riley pulled into her driveway in Fredericksburg, the familiar sight of her townhouse brought a momentary sense of relief.
The afternoon shadows had lengthened during her drive home, and the golden light of early evening softened the edges of their security measures—the discreet cameras mounted under the eaves, the reinforced window frames, the state-of-the-art alarm system.
To an untrained eye, it might have appeared to be an ordinary suburban home.
But Riley and Bill Jeffreys—once her partner in the field, and now in life—had transformed it into a fortress, a necessary precaution given the enemies they’d made over their years with the FBI.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside, immediately catching the rich aroma of Gabriela’s cooking wafting from the kitchen—garlic, tomatoes, something with a hint of cumin.
“I’m back,” she called out, setting her bag down in the small foyer.
“In here,” Bill’s voice responded from the family room at the back of the house.
Riley found Bill hunched over the security monitor setup they’d installed in an alcove off the main space.
His broad shoulders were rigid with concentration, his salt-and-pepper hair catching the blue light from the screens.
He barely glanced up as she entered, his focus fixed on rewinding and replaying a segment of footage.
“Look at this,” he said, gesturing her closer. “Third time today this guy’s walked past our house. Slow, deliberate pace. Keeps looking at our windows.”
Riley studied the grainy image of a middle-aged man in a windbreaker strolling past their front yard, his gaze indeed lingering on their property longer than a casual passerby’s might.
“That’s just Malcolm Eustace,” Riley said, recognizing the neighborhood watch captain who lived three doors down. “He’s been extra vigilant since that break-in on Maple Street last month.”
“You’re sure?” Bill’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, poised to replay the footage again.
Riley rested a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath his shirt. “Positive. He’s harmless, Bill. Retired military with too much time on his hands and a police scanner app on his phone.”
Bill exhaled slowly, finally looking up at her. The lines around his eyes had deepened in recent weeks, a testament to the strain they’d all been under since Leo Dillard had approached April.
“How was the lecture?” he asked, shutting down the monitor and standing up to stretch his back.
“Fine. But I got some unwelcome news on the way home.” Riley sank onto a chair. “Jefferson Bell security called. They’re scaling back April’s protection detail starting tomorrow. Budget constraints, personnel shortages—the usual.”
“Damn it.” Bill’s jaw tightened. “That’s the whole reason we agreed to let her keep living on campus.”
“I know.” Riley rubbed her temples. “But there’s not much we can do. It’s a private university. They’ve already gone above and beyond what most schools would offer.”
“I know,” Bill said with a sigh, then looked at his watch. He grabbed his keys from the coffee table. “I need to pick up Jilly from her after-school program. Should be back in twenty minutes.”
After Bill left, Riley pulled out her phone and dialed April’s number. Her daughter answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Mom. I’m heading to the library. Can I call you back later?”
“Just a quick check-in,” Riley said, keeping her voice casual. “Campus security called me. They’re reducing their patrols starting tomorrow.”
A beat of silence followed. “I know. Officer Morales told me this morning. Mom, it’s fine. I’m being careful.”
“April—”
“Mom, listen.” April’s voice took on the determined tone Riley recognized all too well—it was her own, reflected back at her.
“I’m surrounded by people all the time. I never walk alone after dark.
I check in with you or Bill twice a day.
What more do you want me to do, drop out?
Because that’s exactly what he wants, isn’t it? For us to be afraid?”
Riley closed her eyes, recognizing the truth in April’s words. “You’re right. But humor me and download that tracking app we talked about.”
“Already did.” April’s voice softened. “Mom, I get it. I do. But if I’m going to follow in your footsteps one day, I need to learn to look after myself too.”
The front door opened as Riley was ending the call, and Bill returned with Jilly, whose dark eyes immediately sought out Riley.
“Hey,” Riley said, standing to greet her younger daughter with a hug. “How was school?”
“Fine,” Jilly answered, her thin shoulders giving a noncommittal shrug. “The usual.”
From the kitchen doorway, Gabriela appeared, wiping her hands on a dishcloth. The stout Guatemalan woman assessed the family gathering with a practiced eye.
“Dinner in fifteen minutes,” she announced. “Bill, help set the table, por favor. Jilly, wash hands.”