CHAPTER TWO

As Riley led April up the stairs, she found herself wondering if she had really made the right decision. But she could feel that April was excited about what the “surprise” would be.

She thought that April also seemed a little nervous.

No more nervous than I am, Riley realized. But she didn’t figure she could change her mind now.

They both went into Riley’s bedroom.

A glance at the expression on her daughter’s face convinced Riley not to make any advance explanations. She went to her closet, where a new little black safe was on the shelf. She punched numbers into the keypad, then took something out and laid it on the bed.

April’s eyes opened wide at what she saw.

“A gun!” she said. “Is it …?”

“Yours?” Riley replied. “Well, legally it’s still mine. Virginia law says you can’t own a handgun until you’re eighteen. But you can learn with this one until then. We’re going to work our way into this slowly, but if you’ve learned to handle it well, it’ll be yours.”

April’s mouth was hanging open.

“Do you want it?” Riley asked.

April didn’t seem to know what to say.

Was this a mistake? Riley wondered. Maybe April actually didn’t feel ready for this.

Riley said, “You said you wanted to become an FBI agent.”

April nodded eagerly.

Riley said, “So—I thought it might be a good idea to start you on some weapons training. Don’t you?”

“Yes—oh, yes,” April said. “This is wonderful. Really, really amazing. Thanks, Mom. I’m just kind of overwhelmed. I really hadn’t expected this.”

“I hadn’t either,” Riley said. “I mean, I hadn’t expected to do anything like this at this point. Owning a gun is a huge responsibility and one that a lot of adults can’t handle.”

Riley took the gun out of the case and showed it to April.

She said, “This is a Ruger SR22—a .22 caliber semiautomatic handgun.”

“A .22?” April asked.

“Believe me, this is not a toy. I don’t want you training with a larger caliber yet. A .22 can be just as dangerous as any other gun—maybe more so. More people are killed by this caliber than any other. Treat it with care and respect. You’ll only be handling it for training purposes. I’ll keep it in my closet the rest of the time. It will be in a gun safe that can only be opened with a combination. For now, I’ll be the only one with that.”

“Of course,” April said. “I wouldn’t want to have it just lying around.”

Riley added, “And I’d rather you didn’t mention this to Jilly.”

“What about Gabriela?”

Riley knew it was a good question. As far as Jilly was concerned, it was simply a matter of maturity. She might get jealous and want a gun of her own, which was out of the question. As for Gabriela, Riley suspected that she might be alarmed at the idea of April learning to use a weapon.

“I might tell her,” Riley said. “Not just yet.”

Riley clicked out the empty cartridge and said, “Always know whether your weapon is loaded or not.”

She handed the unloaded gun to April, whose hands were shaking a little.

Riley almost joked …

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get one in pink.”

But she thought better of it. This was not a thing to joke about.

April said, “But what do I do with it? Where? When?”

“Right now,” Riley said. “Come on, let’s go.”

Riley put the gun back in its case and carried it with her as they went back down the stairs. Fortunately, Gabriela was working in the kitchen and Jilly was in the family room, so they didn’t have to discuss what was in the case.

April went to the kitchen and told Gabriela that she and Riley were going out for a while, then went to the family room and told Jilly the same. The younger girl seemed to be fascinated by something playing on the TV, and she just nodded.

Riley and April both went out the front door and got into the car. Riley drove them to a gun store called Smith Firearms, where she’d bought the gun a couple of days ago. When she and April went inside, they were surrounded by firearms of every type and size, hanging on the walls or in glass cases.

They were greeted by Brick Smith, the store owner. He was a large, bearded man wearing a plaid shirt and a wide, hearty smile.

“Hello there, Ms. Paige,” he said. “It’s good to see you again. What brings you around today?”

Riley said, “This is my daughter, April. We came by to try out the Ruger I bought here the other day.”

Brick Smith seemed slightly amused. Riley remembered when she’d brought her own boyfriend, Blaine, here to buy him a gun for self-defense. Back then, Brick had seemed a little nonplussed to see a woman buying a gun for a man. His surprise had waned when he’d found out that Riley was an FBI agent.

He didn’t look the least bit surprised now.

He’s getting used to me, Riley thought. Good. Not everybody does.

“Well, well, well,” he said, looking at April. “You didn’t tell me you were buying the gun for your little girl.”

Those words jarred Riley a little …

“… your little girl.”

She wondered—had April taken offense?

Riley glanced at April and saw that she was still looking a bit overwhelmed.

I guess she kind of feels like a little girl at the moment, Riley thought.

Brick Smith led Riley and April through a door into the surprisingly large shooting range behind the store, then left them alone.

“First things first,” Riley said, pointing to a long list on the wall. “Read these rules. Ask me if you’ve got any questions.”

Riley stood watching as April read over the rules, which of course covered all the safety essentials, including never pointing a gun in any direction except downrange. As April read with an earnest expression, Riley felt an odd sense of déjà vu. She remembered when she had brought Blaine here to buy and try out his new weapon.

It was a somewhat bitter memory.

Over breakfast at his house after their first night of lovemaking, Blaine had hesitantly told her …

“I think I need to buy a gun. For home protection.”

Of course, Riley had understood why. His own life had been in danger since he’d come to know her. And as things turned out, he’d needed that gun only days later to defend not only himself but also Riley’s whole family from a dangerous escaped convict, Shane Hatcher. Blaine had almost killed the man.

Riley now felt again the pang of guilt over that terrible incident.

Is no one safe with me in their lives? she wondered. Will everyone I know need guns because of me?

April finished reading the rules, and she and Riley went to one of the empty booths, where April put on ear and eye protection gear. Riley took the gun out of the box and put it in front of April.

April looked at it with a daunted expression.

Good, Riley thought. She ought to feel intimidated.

April said, “This is different from the gun you bought for Blaine.”

“That’s right,” Riley said. “I got him a Smith and Wesson 686, a .38 caliber revolver—a much more powerful weapon. But his needs were different. He only wanted to be able to defend himself. He wasn’t thinking about going into law enforcement like you.”

Riley picked up the gun and showed it to April.

“There are some big differences between a revolver and a semiautomatic. A semiautomatic has a lot of advantages, but a few disadvantages as well—occasional misfires, double feed, failure to eject, stovepipe jams. I didn’t want Blaine to have to deal with any of that, not in a case of emergency. But as for you—well, you might as well start learning about them right away, in a safe setting where your life isn’t in danger.”

Riley began to show April what she needed to know next—how to put rounds into the cartridge, how to put the cartridge into the weapon, and how to unload it again.

Demonstrating, Riley said, “Now this weapon can be used in either single-action or double-action mode. Single-action is when you pull back the hammer before pulling the trigger. Then the gun takes over and automatically cocks the gun again and again. You can fire off rapid shots until your cartridge is empty. That’s the great advantage of a semiautomatic.”

Fingering the trigger, Riley continued, “Double-action is when you do all the work with the trigger. As you begin to pull, the hammer cocks, and when you finish, the gun fires. If you want to fire another shot, you have to start all over again. That takes more work—your finger is pulling against eight to eleven pounds of pressure—and the firing is slower. And it’s what I want you to do to get started.”

She pushed a button to bring the paper target to seven yards away from the booth, then showed April the proper stance and hand positions for firing, and also how to aim.

Riley said, “OK, your gun isn’t loaded. Let’s try some dry firing.”

As she had done with Blaine, Riley explained to April how to breathe—to inhale slowly while aiming, then exhale slowly as she pulled the trigger so that her body would be most still when the weapon fired.

April aimed carefully at the vaguely human shape on the target, then pulled the trigger several times. Then, at Riley’s instruction, she put the loaded cartridge into the gun, resumed her position, and fired a single shot.

April let out a startled squeal.

“Did I hit anything?” she asked.

Riley pointed to the target.

“Well, you hit the target, anyway. And for your first try, that’s not bad. How did it feel?”

April let out a nervous giggle.

“Kind of surprising. I expected more of a …”

“Recoil?”

“Yeah. And it wasn’t as loud as I’d expected.”

Riley nodded and said, “That’s one of the nice things about a .22. You won’t develop a flinch or other bad habits. As you work your way up to larger weapons, you’ll be ready to deal with their power. Go ahead, empty the cartridge.”

As April slowly fired the nine remaining rounds, Riley noticed a change in her face. It was a determined, fierce expression that Riley realized she had seen in April sometime before. Riley tried to remember …

When was that? Only once, she thought.

Then the memory hit her like a thunderbolt …

Riley had pursued the monster named Peterson down to a riverbank. He was holding April hostage, bound hand and foot with a gun to her head. When Peterson’s gun misfired, Riley lunged at him and stabbed him, and they struggled in the river until he pushed her head underwater and was about to drown her.

Her face surfaced for a moment, and she saw a sight she would never forget …

Her wrists and feet still bound, April was on her feet holding the shotgun that Peterson had dropped.

April slammed its butt against Peterson’s head …

The fight had ended a few moments later, when Riley smashed Peterson’s face in with a rock.

But she’d never forgiven herself for allowing April to be in such danger.

And now, here April was, firing away at the target with the same fierce expression on her face.

She’s so much like me, Riley thought.

And if April really put her heart and soul into it, Riley was sure that she’d become as good an FBI agent as she’d ever been—perhaps better.

But was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Riley didn’t know whether to feel guilty or proud.

But during the half-hour training session, April fired with ever increasing confidence and accuracy at the target. By the time they left the gun store and drove home, Riley was definitely feeling proud.

April was exhilarated and chatty, asking all kinds of questions about the training she had to look forward to. Riley gave the best answers she could, trying not to show her ambivalence about the future April seemed to want so much.

As they neared home, April said, “Look who’s here.”

Riley’s heart sank when she saw the expensive BMW pulled up in front of the townhouse. She knew it belonged to the last person in the world she wanted to see right now.