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From the series: The Making of Riley Paige #4
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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 B&N!

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)

BEFORE HE STALKS (Book #13)

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?

She laughed at herself.

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 again, 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 …

Family.

She’d scarcely ever had a family, not since her mother had been murdered right before her eyes when she’d been just a little girl. Her father was alive—an embittered and reclusive ex-Marine who lived in the Appalachian Mountains. But she hadn’t seen him since …

When?

Not since before she’d graduated from college last fall, she realized. And that meeting had been anything but pleasant. As far as Riley knew, her father had little if any idea of everything she’d done during the months since then. She wondered if she’d ever tell him about it. For that matter, she wondered whether she’d ever see him again.

And now Director Cormack was holding out the promise of something Riley had dreamed of but never had.

Family!

Was it really possible?

Was she going to feel like part of such a large family in the days to come?

She looked around at the faces of her fellow graduates. Many were smiling at each other, and some were whispering to each other as Director Cormack kept talking. Riley knew many of them had made lasting friendships here at the Academy.

She stifled a sigh at the thought that she hadn’t really found a “family” here. As behind as she’d gotten during the murder case, she hadn’t had much time to socialize and hang out with friends. She’d formed exactly two really close friendships during her time here—one with her roommate Frankie Dow, and one with John Welch, an idealistic and handsome young man she’d gotten to know back during the summer when they’d both been in the FBI’s ten-week Honors Internship Program.

John and Frankie were also here today. Because the graduating class was seated according to names, Riley and her two pals hadn’t been able to sit together, and she didn’t really know the classmates who were beside her.

Riley reminded herself that she and her fiancé, Ryan Paige, were already—or almost—a family. She would move back in with him in their DC apartment, and they planned to marry soon. Riley had lost one pregnancy to an early miscarriage, but they would surely have children in the coming years.

She wondered if Ryan was there in the audience. It was Saturday, which could be a workday for an entry-level attorney like Ryan. Besides that, Riley knew he had mixed feelings about the career she had chosen.

Director Cormack finished his speech, and the time had come to swear in all the new agents. One by one, he would call out their names. Each of them would go up to the stage, take the FBI oath of office, receive their badge, and return to their seat.

They were being called in alphabetical order, and as Cormack worked his way through the list, Riley found herself wishing her last name didn’t begin with the nineteenth letter of the alphabet. It was a long wait. Frankie, of course, went up onto the stage before her, then waved and grinned at Riley as she returned to her seat.

When the director finally called out Riley’s name, her knees felt weak as she stood up and pushed her way past other seated graduates until she got to the aisle. By the time she stepped up onto the stage, she felt as though she was no longer inside her own body.

 

Finally she stood on the stage, raised her hand, and repeated after Director Cormack …

“I, Riley Sweeney, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic …”

She had to blink back a tear as she continued.

This is real, she told herself. This is really happening.

It was a short oath, but Riley felt as though her voice would give out before it was over. Finally she said the closing words …

“… and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.”

Riley held out her hand, expecting Director Cormack to hand the badge to her. Instead, the big man grinned at her somewhat impishly and set the badge on the podium.

“Now hold on, young lady. We’ve got a little business to take care of.”

Riley gasped. Had she failed to graduate after all?

The director took a small black box out of his jacket pocket and said …

“Riley Sweeney, it is my distinct honor to bestow upon you the Director’s Leadership Award for Excellence.”

Riley was stunned.

The director opened the little box and took out a ribbon with a medal attached. A burst of applause broke out as Cormack hung the medal around her neck. Cormack praised Riley for her initiative and leadership during her weeks at the Academy.

Riley tried to listen carefully to his words, but she felt lightheaded.

Don’t faint, she ordered herself. Stay on your feet.

She hoped somebody was recording whatever the director was saying because it was all blurring together for her.

Cormack handed her something.

My FBI badge, she realized as she accepted it.

Then he held out his hand. She shook it and turned to leave.

As Riley Sweeney, brand new FBI agent, stepped down from the stage, she saw that not all the graduates looked happy for her. In fact, there was a palpable resentment in some of their faces. She could hardly blame them. When she’d gotten back from working on the murder case, she’d been designated team leader over and over again for Academy activities. It was no secret that some students felt that Riley’s recent fieldwork had given her an unfair advantage over them. She was sure that some who came from law-enforcement backgrounds must be especially annoyed.

Riley went back to her seat, feeling flushed with emotion at having been chosen for the award. She couldn’t remember anything like that ever happening to her before.

Meanwhile, the rest of the recruits filed one by one onto the stage, swearing the oath and accepting their badges. When John went up, Riley smiled and waved at him, and he shyly waved back at her.

After the last students took their oaths, Director Cormack again congratulated the recruits on their achievement and brought the ceremony to an end. The students got up from their seats and eagerly sought out their friends.

Riley quickly located John and Frankie, who were glowing with pride as they clutched their new badges.

“We did it!” John said, hugging Riley.

“We’re FBI agents for real!” Frankie said, hugging Riley in turn.

“We sure are,” Riley said.

Frankie added, “And best of all, we’ll all be working at the DC Headquarters. We can stick together!”

“Won’t that be great!” Riley agreed.

She took a deep breath. After that rough summer, everything was working out just fine. Better even than she had imagined.

She glanced around for Ryan and saw him moving through the crowd toward her.

He’d made it here after all, and he had a pleasant smile on his face.

“Congratulations, sweetie,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

“Thanks,” Riley said, kissing him back.

Taking Riley’s hand, Ryan said, “And now we can go home.”

Riley smiled and nodded. Yes, that was one really great thing about today. During all her weeks in the Academy, she’d had to live in the dorm while Ryan had stayed in their DC apartment. They hadn’t spent nearly as much time together as either of them had wanted.

Her assignment to the DC FBI Headquarters meant that she’d be working just a short subway ride from their apartment. They could settle down to life together, and maybe decide soon just when they planned to get married.

But before Ryan and Riley could walk away, John called out to her.

“Wait a minute, Riley. We’ve got one more bit of business to take care of.”

Riley’s eyes widened as she remembered …

Yes, there’s one more thing to do.

She and her friends went outside into the cold winter air, where the new agents were all lining up and heading across the quad toward the FBI gun vault. Riley and her two friends hurried to join the line, while Ryan followed along with them.

Riley noticed that Ryan looked rather perplexed.

He doesn’t realize what’s going on here, she thought.

There was no time to discuss this right now. Riley and her friends were approaching the quartermaster.

As they reached him, the man handed each of them a service weapon—a 22-caliber Glock pistol.

Ryan’s mouth gaped with surprise—and also some alarm, Riley felt pretty sure.

He’ll just have to get used to my having a firearm, she thought.

Riley smiled at him and said, “OK, we can go home now.”

She was relieved that he made no comment about the lethal weapon she was carrying as they said goodbye to her friends and headed back across the quad.

Everything is going to be all right, she thought.

That was when a young man approached her holding an envelope.

“Are you Riley Sweeney?” the young man asked.

“Yes,” Riley said.

The young man handed her the envelope and said, “I’m supposed to give you this. You’ve got to sign for it.”

Riley signed for the envelope, then hastily pulled it open.

She staggered back a few steps at what she read.

“What is it?” Ryan asked.

She gulped hard and told him, “It’s a change of assignment.”

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

“I won’t be working at DC Bureau Headquarters after all. I’m assigned to the Behavioral Analysis Unit right here in Quantico.”

Ryan stammered, “But—but you said … we’re supposed to be living together.”

“We will be,” Riley hastened to assure him. “After all, it’s not that long a commute.”

Even so, she knew that the change was definitely going to complicate their lives. This wasn’t going to make it impossible for them to be together, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

Ryan snapped, “Well, you can’t do that. They’ll have to change it.”

“I can’t make them change anything,” Riley replied. “I’m just an underling here, like you are in the law office.”

Ryan was silent for a long moment, then he grumbled, “Whose idea was this, anyway?”

Riley thought about that. She’d had hadn’t even listed Quantico among her three assignment choices. Who would have intervened to place her here?

Then she realized with a sigh …

I’ve got a pretty good idea.