T A K I N G
(THE MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE—BOOK 4)
B L A K E P I E R C E
Blake Pierce
Blake Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series,
which includes fifteen books (and counting). Blake Pierce is also the author
of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising thirteen books (and
counting); of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; of
the KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising five books; of the MAKING
OF RILEY PAIGE mystery series, comprising five books (and counting); of
the KATE WISE mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the
CHLOE FINE psychological suspense mystery, comprising five books (and
counting); and of the JESSE HUNT psychological suspense thriller series,
comprising five books (and counting).
ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1), and WATCHING (The Making of Riley Paige—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Amazon!
An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake
loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit
www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.
Copyright © 2019 by Blake Pierce. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S.
Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the author. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Jacket image Copyright Korionov, used under license from Shutterstock.com.
BOOKS BY BLAKE PIERCE
A JESSIE HUNT PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE SERIES
THE PERFECT WIFE (Book #1)
THE PERFECT BLOCK (Book #2)
THE PERFECT HOUSE (Book #3)
THE PERFECT SMILE (Book #4)
THE PERFECT LIE (Book #5)
CHLOE FINE PSYCHOLOGICAL SUSPENSE SERIES
NEXT DOOR (Book #1)
A NEIGHBOR’S LIE (Book #2)
CUL DE SAC (Book #3)
SILENT NEIGHBOR (Book #4)
HOMECOMING (Book #5)
TINTED WINDOWS (Book #6)
KATE WISE MYSTERY SERIES
IF SHE KNEW (Book #1)
IF SHE SAW (Book #2)
IF SHE RAN (Book #3)
IF SHE HID (Book #4)
IF SHE FLED (Book #5)
IF SHE FEARED (Book #6)
THE MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE SERIES
WATCHING (Book #1)
WAITING (Book #2)
LURING (Book #3)
TAKING (Book #4)
STALKING (Book #5)
RILEY PAIGE MYSTERY SERIES
ONCE GONE (Book #1)
ONCE TAKEN (Book #2)
ONCE CRAVED (Book #3)
ONCE LURED (Book #4)
ONCE HUNTED (Book #5)
ONCE PINED (Book #6)
ONCE FORSAKEN (Book #7)
ONCE COLD (Book #8)
ONCE STALKED (Book #9)
ONCE LOST (Book #10)
ONCE BURIED (Book #11)
ONCE BOUND (Book #12)
ONCE TRAPPED (Book #13)
ONCE DORMANT (Book #14)
ONCE SHUNNED (Book #15)
ONCE MISSED (Book #16)
MACKENZIE WHITE MYSTERY SERIES
BEFORE HE KILLS (Book #1)
BEFORE HE SEES (Book #2)
BEFORE HE COVETS (Book #3)
BEFORE HE TAKES (Book #4)
BEFORE HE NEEDS (Book #5)
BEFORE HE FEELS (Book #6)
BEFORE HE SINS (Book #7)
BEFORE HE HUNTS (Book #8)
BEFORE HE PREYS (Book #9)
BEFORE HE LONGS (Book #10)
BEFORE HE LAPSES (Book #11)
BEFORE HE ENVIES (Book #12)
AVERY BLACK MYSTERY SERIES
CAUSE TO KILL (Book #1)
CAUSE TO RUN (Book #2)
CAUSE TO HIDE (Book #3)
CAUSE TO FEAR (Book #4)
CAUSE TO SAVE (Book #5)
CAUSE TO DREAD (Book #6)
KERI LOCKE MYSTERY SERIES
A TRACE OF DEATH (Book #1)
A TRACE OF MURDER (Book #2)
A TRACE OF VICE (Book #3)
A TRACE OF CRIME (Book #4)
A TRACE OF HOPE (Book #5)
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
PROLOGUE
When Brett Parma returned from her hike through the rough and barren
Arizona hills, she didn’t get back into her little camping van right away. She
leaned against the vehicle, gazing back the way she’d walked, and took a
long breath of the dry, clean air. She was loving this place more and more by
the minute.
And even in December! she thought.
Nothing could be more unlike the grim, windy winter cold back in North
Platte, Nebraska. Of course, she knew that this whole area would be blazingly
hot in the summer, even at this late time of day. Hiking would be out of the
question then.
She’d made the perfect choice for a three-week vacation—both the
location and the time of year. The campgrounds weren’t at all crowded, like
they would be during the tourist season. And it had been smart of her to
modify her van into a simple camping vehicle.
She’d desperately needed this vacation. Her job as a receptionist for the
Hanson Family Medical Group had become more and more thankless every
day. Almost everybody she dealt with, either on the phone or in person,
seemed to be angry about something or other—insurance coverage,
appointment times, the unavailability of certain doctors …
Any problem that I’m in no position to solve.
All those troubles seemed blessedly far away right now. Brett found
herself thinking …
What if I just don’t go back?
Wouldn’t it be cool to retire in her early thirties? Or maybe she could do
something even crazier. What if she just kept right on driving on and on,
hopping from campground to campground, perhaps finding her own
sequestered places to stop for the night, maybe heading on down into
Mexico, never to return?
No, she wasn’t that kind of free spirit—not someone who could blithely
ignore dangers and responsibilities in order to …
What was the phrase?
Oh, yes. Follow my bliss.
She knew such an adventure just wasn’t in the cards for her. For one thing, her savings would give out before long, and where would she be then? What
would she do for a living?
Meanwhile, she’d just have to grab up as much bliss as she could during
the coming days.
And really, that didn’t seem like a bad thing at all.
As she watched the sun starting to set over the rocky, rust-colored hills,
she heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. She turned and saw a good-
sized camper approaching.
She was mildly surprised. She’d chosen this scenic back road because she
guessed she’d have it pretty much to herself, especially at this time of year.
She was even more surprised when the driver pulled the vehicle off the
road and parked alongside her van. The much bigger camper dwarfed her
own little makeshift vehicle, but then so did most of the others she saw in
camping areas.
It must be nice—all that luxury on wheels.
The driver climbed down out of the vehicle. He was a nondescript but
pleasant-looking man.
He looked at Brett and said …
“Hey, didn’t I see you back at the Wren’s Nest Campground?”
Now that Brett thought about it, both the man and his vehicle looked
somewhat familiar from where she’d been camping the night before. He
looked like a lot of the guys she’d seen in the campgrounds, older than she
was and obviously better off financially. Usually, a whole family was
traveling along with them.
“Maybe so,” she said.
“I’m Pete,” the man said.
“I’m Brett.”
“Nice to meet you, Brett.”
“Likewise,” Brett said. “Where are you headed?”
“The Beavertail Campground,” Pete said.
“Me too,” Brett said. “It looks to be about a ten-minute drive from here.”
Pete nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that’s what I figure.”
He walked over to the sign that said HIKING TRAIL and stood staring out
into the hills for a moment.
Then he looked at Brett and said, “You look like you just came in from
hiking.”
Brett knew it was a good guess, since she was still wearing her backpack.
“That’s right,” she said.
Pete squinted at her. “I might try the trail myself. Do you recommend it?”
Brett was a little startled at the question.
She said, “Um, it’s a really nice trail, but … it’s pretty late in the day,
don’t you think? It’ll be getting dark soon.”
Pete sighed with disappointment.
“I guess that’s true,” he said. “Maybe I’ll come back this way tomorrow.”
He stared at the hills again for a few moments, then walked back toward
his camper.
Then he turned and said to Brett, “Would you like to come inside for a
beer?”
Brett was both surprised and pleased by the offer. She’d brought nothing
to drink on this trip except bottled water and a few soft drinks, and a nice
cold beer sounded refreshing. Besides, she’d just love to get a look at the
inside of that camper.
“That would be nice,” she said.
When he escorted her inside, the camper actually looked more spacious
than it had from the outside. It had a good-sized kitchen area complete with a
stove, and enough bedding for more than one person—a couple with a child
or two, maybe.
Nevertheless, this guy did seem to be traveling alone. Brett figured she’d
get awfully spoiled, traveling alone in a camper like this. Her own vehicle
wasn’t equipped with much of anything except a mattress.
Pete pointed to a door and said, “You’ve been on the road for a while.
Maybe you’d like to use my bathroom.”
Brett stifled a little gasp.
A real bathroom!
Of course, it couldn’t be much bigger than a closet. But in comparison
with restrooms in restaurants and gas stations and communal facilities at
campgrounds, it would be a true luxury.
“Thanks!” she said.
She opened the door and stepped inside the cubicle. The door swung shut
behind her, and she found herself in total darkness.
Strange, she thought.
Didn’t the bathroom at least have a window?
She fumbled around the wall next to the door, feeling for a light switch,
but couldn’t find any. Anyway, should she expect there to be any electricity
as long as the camper wasn’t properly hooked up to a line?
She turned to leave again, but now the door latch wouldn’t budge.
It must be broken.
She shyly called out …
“Hey, I seem to be kind of stuck.”
She got no reply.
Starting to get worried now, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her
cell phone and switched on its flashlight.
As she flashed its beam around, she began to feel a touch of fear.
This wasn’t a bathroom.
Maybe it once had been, but now it was stripped of all the usual fixtures.
She was standing in a plain rectangular space, its walls and ceiling lined
with small square tiles with tiny pinholes.
Acoustical tiles, she realized.
Was the room soundproofed?
Her fear grew stronger.
As her eyes adjusted, she could see that the tiles were gouged and
scratched.
The walls were smeared and splattered with something red.
Blood!
When she heard the door latch start to rattle, she started screaming.
But she knew it wouldn’t do any good.
As the door began to open, Brett Parma knew she was going to die.
CHAPTER ONE
The enormous, ox-like man stepped up to the microphone and began to
speak.
“I am honored to address …”
But his booming voice broke up into a shriek of feedback that rattled
through the large auditorium.
Riley Sweeney almost jumped out of her skin at the racket.
The noise quickly faded, and a couple of seconds later she was chuckling
nervously along with the rest of the FBI Academy graduates. FBI Director
Bill Cormack was known to have a deep, booming, resonant voice that
wreaked havoc on sound systems.
He’d be better off turning off the microphone, Riley thought.
With that gigantic voice of his, surely he could project to everyone in the
audience without a lot of trouble.
But with a self-deprecating grin, Director Cormack began to speak into the
microphone aga
in, much more softly this time.
“I am honored to address this year’s graduates from the FBI Academy
here in Quantico. Congratulations to all of you for rising to all the challenges of the last eighteen weeks.”
Riley was struck by those words.
Eighteen weeks!
If only I’d had a full eighteen weeks!
She’d missed nearly two weeks, chasing down a brutal killer rather than
participating in classes and training exercises here on base.
Her mentor, Special Agent Jake Crivaro, had rather unceremoniously
yanked her out of the Academy to work on a case in West Virginia—a truly
grisly case of a killer who’d murdered his victims by wrapping them up in
barbed wire.
Catching up with her studies afterward had been hard. She had envied the
other students for having more time than she did for such rigorous work. But
Riley knew that not all of the original 200 or so students were graduating
today. Some had failed and others had dropped out.
She was proud of herself for succeeding in spite of everything.
Riley turned her attention to what Director Cormack was saying.
“I look back in awe over the journey that I and so many other agents have taken before you, and that you are about to embark upon today. I can tell you
from personal experience that it’s a deeply rewarding journey—but
sometimes less than a thankful one. Your selfless deeds won’t always be
greeted with public gratitude.”
He paused for a moment, as if reflecting on personal experience.
Then he said, “Remember that few people outside the Bureau have much
of an idea of your momentous responsibilities. You’ll be criticized for your
work, your every mistake subjected to the utmost scrutiny, often in the glare
of public media. When you fail to solve a crime, you’ll feel as though the
whole world knows about it. When you succeed, you’ll often feel neglected
and unappreciated.”
He leaned forward a little and said almost in a whisper …
“But always remember—you won’t be alone. You’re part of a family now
—the proudest and most loyal and nurturing family anyone can imagine.
There will always be someone here to comfort you in defeat and celebrate
with you in triumph.”
Riley felt a lump form in her throat at the mention of that word …