Page 31 of Free Fall (The Quantico Files 3)

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So what now, Rider?” Brent asked the man sitting across the kitchen table from him. “You barely punished Tracy. Do you have anything else planned?”

“I warned her. If she does it again, they’ll all be sorry. Including the next one to join us. The woman I just saw on TV.”

“But why bring another one here so soon? We’ve had so many.”

“Don’t question me.” Rider glared at him. “Why shouldn’t I bring another woman here? Because you work so hard? All you do is cook and take care of the laundry. Andy does almost everything else.”

“I’m the one who got them here. I even sang the song you told me to—even though it seemed silly.”

Rider’s glare intensified, making Brent’s stomach turn. “You were living on the streets before I took you in. You can always go back to that.”

Brent shook his head. “No, I can’t live like that again. Please don’t make me leave. I’m sorry.”

Rider studied him as though he wondered if he meant what he’d just said, and that frightened him.

“I told you she fits the description,” Rider said. “I want her brought here.”

“But how? She’s an FBI agent.”

“I have a plan.”

“Of course you do.” He shook his head. “Don’t be mad at me. We need each other.”

“I know that. But I haven’t always been completely sure you do.”

Brent did his best to satisfy Rider, but this had been going on for years. His life was lived at Rider’s beck and call. The man didn’t allow him to watch TV or listen to the radio. When he went to town he was careful to stay away from newspapers or anything that might tell him what was going on in the world. He’d wondered more than once if he could get away with a quick peek in a newspaper. But his fear of Rider outweighed his curiosity. Brent wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. Was it possible one of the new women might be the one? He hoped so. They had to find her soon. Once they did, maybe life would be more enjoyable. At least these other women wouldn’t have to suffer any longer.

Brent got to his feet. “I guess we’ll have to clear out room four. We can put her in there.” He sighed. “I wish you’d listened to me about installing something so we can hear them talking. This FBI agent will try to get them out. You know that. We need to know her plan.”

Rider laughed. “Why should we care about what they’re saying? Nothing they can cook up will succeed.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am. Trust me. I’ll take care of things just like I always do. You don’t need to worry about it.”

He stared at Rider for a moment. “You always let them go, right? Make them understand they can’t tell anyone about us?”

Rider frowned at him. “Of course. I promised you I would. They’ve never betrayed us, have they?”

“No, I guess not.” No one had ever come looking for them, so he assumed Rider had kept his word.

Rider stood and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Just let me handle this. I’ll have Andy clean the room and get it ready for her. This new one will come to us. I’ve got a really good plan. I just need you to help me pull it off.”

“Okay. Tell me what you want me to do.” He looked at Rider for a moment before adding, “I feel sorry for them sometimes. I wouldn’t want to wake up and find myself locked inside a strange room.”

“We take good care of them,” Rider said, his tone soothing. “You have nothing to feel bad about.”

“I guess so. Well, I’ve got to go into town now to get those supplies.”

Brent turned and left the room. He was thankful for Andy and everything he’d done for him. He trusted him. But Rider frightened him even more than he wanted to admit.

Alex and Logan worked for a few hours refining the profile. They still didn’t have as much to work with as they would have liked, but at least they felt more comfortable that they were going to give investigators something they could use.

So far, the search for missing drugs had yielded too much information. Alex had been surprised at how many robberies and reports the police had found during their search. No wonder America had a drug problem. Although they were still trying to narrow down the information, the police and the DEA weren’t hopeful they’d be able to give them what they needed. A lot of stolen drugs were illegally resold to buyers they couldn’t trace. This was probably the way the UNSUB had obtained his supply.

He clearly had issues with women of a certain description, but they’d ruled out a mother figure. In those cases, women were usually killed immediately, their deaths driven by rage. Also, the killer would most likely pose them in a way that, in his mind, would humiliate them. Then he’d leave them where they could be found right away. He would be proud of what he’d done and want the world to acknowledge his power.

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