She had gotten in touch with the victim’s mother long after the case had gone cold.
This annual call between them had been a ritual for years.
Riley still found it strange, having these conversations with someone she’d never met. She didn’t even know what Paula looked like. She knew that Paula was sixty-eight now. She had been forty-three, just three years older than Riley, when her daughter was murdered. Riley imagined her as a kindly, gray-haired, grandmotherly figure.
“How is Justin?” Riley asked.
Riley had talked to Paula’s husband a couple of times, but had never gotten to know him.
Paula sighed again.
“He passed away last summer.”
“I’m sorry,” Riley said. “How did it happen?”
“It was sudden, completely out of the blue. It was an aneurysm – or maybe a heart attack. They offered to do an autopsy to determine which it was. I said, ‘Why bother?’ It wasn’t going to bring him back.”
Riley felt terrible for the woman. She knew that Tilda had been her only daughter. The loss of her husband couldn’t be easy.
“How are you coping?” Riley asked.
“One day at a time,” Paula said. “It’s lonely here now.”
There was a note of almost unbearable sadness in her voice, as if she felt ready to join her husband in death.
Riley found such loneliness hard to imagine. She felt a burst of gratitude to have caring people in her life – April, Gabriela, and now Jilly. Riley had endured fears of losing all of them. April had been seriously endangered more than once.
And of course, there were wonderful old friends, like Bill. He had also faced more than his share of risks.
I won’t ever take them for granted, she thought.
“And how about you, dear?” Paula asked.
Maybe that was why Riley felt as though she could talk with Paula about things that she couldn’t with most people.
“Well, I’m in the process of adopting a thirteen-year-old girl. That’s been an adventure. Oh, and Ryan came back for a while. Then he took off again. Another sweet young thing caught his eye.”
“How awful for you!” Paula said. “I was lucky with Justin. He never strayed. And I suppose in the long run he was lucky too. He went quickly, no lingering pain or suffering. I hope when my time comes …”
Paula’s voice trailed off.
Riley shuddered.
Paula had lost a daughter to a killer who had never been brought to justice.
Riley had also lost someone to a killer who was never found.
She spoke slowly.
“Paula … I still have flashbacks about it. Nightmares too.”
Paula replied in a kindly, caring voice.
“I don’t suppose that’s surprising. You were little. And you were there when it happened. I was spared what you went through.”
That word spared startled Riley.
It didn’t seem to her that Paula had been spared in any way.
True, Paula hadn’t been forced to watch her daughter die.
But surely losing one’s only child was even worse than what Riley had suffered.
Paula’s capacity for selfless empathy always astonished Riley.
Paula kept on speaking in a soothing voice.
“Grief never goes away, I don’t suppose. Maybe we shouldn’t want it to. What would we become if I forgot Justin or you forgot your mother? I don’t ever want to become that hard. As long as I still hurt and grieve, I feel human … and alive. It’s a part of who we both are, Riley.”
Riley blinked back a tear.
As always, Paula was telling her exactly what she needed to hear.
But as always, it wasn’t easy.
Paula continued, “And look at what you’ve done with your life – protecting others, pursuing justice. Your loss has helped make you who you are – a champion, a good and caring person.”
A single sob broke out of Riley’s throat.
“Oh, Paula. I wish things didn’t have to be like this – for either of us. I wish I could have – ”
Paula interrupted.
“Riley, we talk about this every year. My daughter’s killer will never be brought to justice. It’s nobody’s fault, and I don’t blame anybody. Least of all you. It was never your case to begin with. It’s not your responsibility. Everybody else did the best they could. The best thing you can do is just talk to me. And that makes my life ever so much better.”
“I’m sorry about Justin,” Riley said.
“Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
Riley and Paula agreed to talk again next year, then ended the call.
Riley sat quietly alone in her office.
Talking with Paula was always emotionally difficult, but most of the time it made Riley feel better.
Today Riley only felt worse.
Why was that?
Too much is going wrong, Riley realized.
Today, all the troubles in her life seemed to be linked together.
And somehow, she couldn’t help blaming herself for all the loss, for all the pain.
At least she didn’t feel like crying anymore. Crying certainly didn’t help. Besides, Riley had some routine paperwork to do today. She settled down at her desk and tried to work.
Later that afternoon, Riley drove straight from Quantico to Brody Middle School. Jilly was already waiting on the sidewalk when Riley pulled up to the curb.
Jilly jumped into the passenger seat.
“I’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes!” she said. “Hurry! We’ll be late for the game!”
Riley chuckled a little.
“We’re not going to be late,” she said. “We’re going to be just in time.”
Riley drove on toward April’s high school.
As she drove, Riley began to worry again.
Had Ryan come to the house during the day to pick up his things?
And when and how was she going to break the news to the girls that he was gone?
“What’s the matter?” Jilly asked.
Riley hadn’t realized that her face had betrayed her feelings.
“Nothing,” she said.
“It’s not nothing,” Jilly said. “I can tell.”
Riley held back a sigh. Like April and Riley herself, Jilly was nothing if not observant.
Should I tell her now? Riley wondered.
No, this wasn’t the time. They were on their way to watch April play in a soccer game. She didn’t want to ruin the afternoon with bad news.
“It’s really nothing,” she said.
Riley parked at April’s school minutes before the game was to start. She and Jilly headed toward the viewer stands, which were already pretty crowded. Riley realized that maybe Jilly was right – maybe they should have arrived sooner.
“Where can we sit?” Riley asked.
“Up there!” Jilly said, pointing to the top level, where some space was still available. “I’ll be able to stand up against the back railing and see everything.”
They