Page 51 of Once Vanished
“I have a friend,” Leo continued.“Someone quite talented with digital systems.The only reason your colleagues were able to monitor your family’s communications earlier was that I wanted them to.Because having those messages in the open served a purpose.I can control whether my communications are traced or not.My friend set things up that way for me, gave me a choice, and it’s entirely within my personal control.”His voice dropped, intimate and confiding.“And right now, I’m choosing privacy.This call is just between us, Bill.It can’t be traced.”
Move,Bill told himself.Reach for the laptop.Communicate with Hogue.
But his limbs felt leaden, his mind fogged by sleeplessness and the strange, almost hypnotic cadence of Leo’s voice.
“I caught you at home, didn’t I?”Leo asked.“I’m assuming I did, since you and Riley were surely both pulled from active duty after Susan Martinez’s unfortunate death.”The false sympathy in his tone made Bill’s skin crawl.“Mandatory leave for officers involved in traumatic incidents.Standard protocol.Am I right?”
Bill’s jaw clenched.The accuracy of Leo’s assumptions was unnerving, a reminder of how thoroughly he’d researched them, how completely he’d invaded their lives.
“Have I caught you alone?”Leo continued, his voice softening with mock concern.“I suspect that I have.Things aren’t good between you and Riley right now, are they?The strain of Jilly’s disappearance.The pressure of failure.The guilt over Susan Martinez.”A pause.“I am sorry about that, truly.It must be terribly difficult for both of you.”
“Where is Jilly?”Bill demanded, finding his voice at last.“Is she safe?”
Leo sighed, the sound exaggerated, theatrical.“So predictable, Bill.So boringly direct.I might tell you, I might not.I haven’t decided just yet.”
“If you’ve hurt her—”
“Please spare me the clichéd threats,” Leo cut in, his tone suddenly sharp.“We both know you’re in no position to do anything.”Then, just as abruptly, the warmth returned to his voice.“Do you know, I’m still riding the high from this afternoon?It’s remarkable how the feeling persists, even hours later.The rush of watching the blood start to drain...”A soft, appreciative exhale.“Is that what it’s like for you?When you kill someone in the line of duty?”
The bright and terrible image of Susan’s pulsing blood flashed before Bill’s eyes.
“How many people have you killed, Bill?”Leo asked conversationally.“In your career, I mean.Three?Four?Of course,” he added, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper, “I’m not counting accidents.Like poor Stanley Pope.”
That name hit Bill hard again.The name Riley had been so reluctant to tell him, the young officer he’d shot in a moment of confusion.
“Yes, I know all about that unfortunate incident,” Leo continued, as if reading Bill’s thoughts.“I must apologize for reopening an old wound, but his role in our story was too perfect to resist.The man you nearly killed returned to haunt you.”He made a tutting sound.“And to lose Lucy—I believe that was the name of Riley’s partner—at exactly the same time.I imagine the jeopardy to Stanley brought back all those dark feelings.That despair that led you to text Riley, ‘Sitting here with a gun in my mouth.’Remember that?”
Bill’s breath caught in his throat.The memory of that night crashed over him—sitting alone in his apartment, his service weapon cold and heavy in his hands, the certainty that the world would be better without him in it.
“How do you know about that?”Bill’s voice sounded distant, even to his own ears.But he already knew the answer.
“You know exactly how I know,” Leo replied, his tone one of gentle reproach.“The same way I know about Riley’s childhood trauma, about April’s drug experimentation, about Jilly’s history of self-harm.About every private fear and failure your little family has ever experienced.”
“The psychiatric records,” Bill said flatly.“Nevins’s files.”
“Precisely!Gold star for the FBI man.”Leo’s approval dripped with condescension.“They made for fascinating reading, I must say.Your sessions, Riley’s sessions.The private thoughts you both shared with dear Dr.Nevins over the years.So many vulnerabilities, so many pressure points.”
Bill fought against a wave of violation so profound it made him physically ill.Every confidential confession, every painful admission, was laid bare before the eyes of this monster.Not just his own, but Riley’s too.
“Did you know,” Leo continued, “that Riley told Nevins she wasn’t sure she could ever fully trust you again after the Pope incident?After your...breakdown?”The word was wrapped in false concern.“She worried about your stability.Whether you might falter again at a critical moment.”
Bill’s chest tightened.Had Riley really said that?Or was Leo fabricating, twisting words to drive a wedge between them?
“That’s not true,” he managed, but doubt had already slipped into his mind.
“Would you like me to share more?”Leo asked.“There’s so much Riley confided to Nevins about her feelings toward you.Her fears.Her...disappointments.Things she could never say to your face.Things that might change how you see your relationship entirely.”
Bill gripped the table harder, trying to ground himself.Leo was manipulating him, he knew that.Playing on his insecurities, exploiting his exhaustion.And yet the doubt was still there, corrosive and persistent.
Had Riley’s faith in him truly never recovered?Had she been harboring secret reservations all this time?
“Tell me where Jilly is,” Bill said again, his voice stronger now, powered by a desperate need to shift focus.
“Always back to Jilly,” Leo sighed.“So single-minded.But I suppose that’s understandable, given the circumstances.”A pause, then more softly: “How are you holding up, Bill?Really?You don’t sound well.I worry about your mental state.”
Bill almost laughed at the absurdity—a psychopath expressing concern for his well-being.But the laughter died in his throat as Leo continued.
“This must be taking you to a very dark place.Perhaps as dark as you’ve ever been?The burden of responsibility must be crushing.After all, it shouldn’t fall to Riley to save her daughter alone.She should be able to count on you for that.And yet here we are—Jilly still missing, Susan Martinez dead, and you...what?Sitting there alone, falling apart?”