Once Hunted. Blake PierceЧитать онлайн книгу.
ake Pierce
Blake Pierce is author of the bestselling RILEY PAGE mystery series, which include the mystery suspense thrillers ONCE GONE (book #1), ONCE TAKEN (book #2), ONCE CRAVED (#3) and ONCE LURED (#4). ONCE HUNTED (#5), and ONCE PINED (#6). Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series and AVERY BLACK mystery series.
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.comwww.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.
Copyright © 2016 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 GongTo, used under license from Shutterstock.com.
PROLOGUE
Special Agent Riley Paige’s speeding car shattered the silence of Fredericksburg’s dark streets. Her fifteen-year-old daughter was missing, but Riley was more furious than frightened. She had a good idea where April was – with her new boyfriend, seventeen-year-old high school dropout Joel Lambert. Riley had tried her best to put a stop to the relationship, but she hadn’t been successful.
Tonight that’s going to change, she thought with determination.
She parked in front of Joel’s home, a rundown little house in an unsavory neighborhood. She’d been here once before and had given Joel an ultimatum to stay away from her daughter. He’d obviously ignored it.
There wasn’t a single light on in the house. Maybe nobody was even inside. Or maybe what Riley would find in there would be more than she could handle. She didn’t care. She banged on the door.
“Joel Lambert! Open up!” she yelled.
There were a few moments of silence. Riley banged on the door again. This time she heard muttered curses inside. The porch light came on. Still chained, the door opened a few inches. In the light from the porch, Riley could make out an unfamiliar face. It was a bearded, strung-out-looking man of about nineteen or twenty.
“What do you want?” the man asked groggily.
“I’m here for my daughter,” Riley said.
The man looked puzzled.
“You’ve got the wrong place, lady,” he said.
He tried to shut the door, but Riley kicked it so hard that the safety chain broke loose and the door flew open.
“Hey!” the man yelled.
Riley stormed inside. The house looked much as it had the last time she’d been here – a horrible mess filled with suspicious odors. The young man was tall and wiry. Riley detected a family resemblance between him and Joel. But he wasn’t old enough to be Joel’s father.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Guy Lambert,” he replied.
“Joel’s brother?” Riley guessed.
“Yeah. Who the hell are you?”
Riley whipped out her badge.
“Special Agent Riley Paige, FBI,” she said.
The man’s eyes got wide with alarm.
“FBI? Hey, there’s got to be some kind of mistake here.”
“Are your parents here?” Riley said.
Guy Lambert shrugged.
“Parents? What parents? Joel and I are on our own here.”
Riley was hardly surprised. The last time she’d been here, she’d suspected that Joel’s parents were out of the picture. What had become of them she couldn’t possibly guess.
“Where’s my daughter?” Riley said.
“Lady, I don’t even know your daughter.”
Riley took a step toward the nearest doorway. Guy Lambert tried to block her way.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to have a search warrant?” he asked.
Riley thrust him aside.
“I’m making the rules right now,” she snarled.
Riley went through the door into a disheveled bedroom. No one was there. She continued through another door into a filthy bathroom, and another door that connected to a second bedroom. Still no one.
She heard a voice call out from the living room.
“Hold it right there!”
She hurried back into the living room.
Now she saw that her partner, Agent Bill Jeffreys, was standing in the front doorway. She had called for his help before she’d left home. Guy Lambert was slumped on the sofa, looking despondent.
“This guy seemed to be heading out,” Bill said. “I just made it clear that he should wait here for you.”
“Where are they?” Riley demanded of Lambert. “Where are your brother and my daughter?”
“I’ve got no idea.”
Riley seized him by the T-shirt and hauled him to his feet.
“Where are your brother and my daughter?” she repeated.
When he said, “I don’t know,” she slammed him against the wall. She heard Bill let out a groan of disapproval. Doubtless he was worried that Riley might get out of control. She didn’t care.
Completely panicked now, Guy Lambert spit out an answer.
“They’re just down on the next block on this street. Thirteen thirty-four.”
Riley released him. Without another word, she stormed out the front door as Bill followed after her.
Riley had her flashlight out and was checking the house numbers. “It’s this way,” she said.
“We’ve got to call for some help,” Bill said.
“We don’t need backup,” Riley called as she ran along the sidewalk.
“That’s not what worries me.” Bill followed her.
In a few moments, Riley stood in the yard of a two-story house. It was broken-down and obviously condemned, with empty lots on either side – a typical “shooting gallery” for heroin users. It reminded her of the house where a sadistic psychopath named Peterson had held her captive. He’d kept her in a cage and tormented her with a propane torch until she’d escaped and blown the place up with his own supply of propane.
For a second, she hesitated, shaken by the memory. But then she reminded herself:
April’s in there.
“Get ready,” she told Bill.
Bill took out his own flashlight and his gun, and they moved together toward the house.
When Riley arrived at the porch, she saw that