Sleeping With Fear Read Online Free PDF Page B

situation so torn by uncertainty, how could she discount the possibility?
    And, most important of all, what if neither her memories nor her clairvoyance kicked in when she saw the man again? How was she supposed to fake her way through
that
?
     
    The woods were dense enough that getting a vehicle to the clearing near the center was virtually impossible. So Leah parked her Jeep near the other police vehicles, and they got out.
    Riley had another flash of memory, and said, "Somebody's dog found the body, right?"
    "Just like one found all that stuff in the clearing last week," Leah confirmed. "Different dog, though."
    Riley paused to study the break in the fence, ignoring a bored deputy stationed there to prevent the idly curious from entering the woods at this point. It wasn't a particularly strong fence, meant more as a border delineating the park from the woods than a barrier to hold a determined animal in-or out.
    She frowned as she half-turned to look back at the area used for local pet owners. "Odd," she murmured.
    "What's odd?" Leah asked.
    Riley kept her voice low. "Rituals aren't meant to be public. Especially occult rituals, and even more especially if you mean to sacrifice something or kill somebody. You don't want outsiders watching or even knowing what's going on."
    "Makes sense."
    "Yeah. So why choose this place? There are patches of woods farther from town and much more private. Forests with a lot more acreage that would offer far greater secrecy. Places where a fire wouldn't be seen. And where local dog owners don't bring their pets every single day."
    "Something special about this patch of woods?" Leah guessed. "You did say that group of boulders looked like a natural altar. Or something old that was used a long time ago. Maybe that's it?"
    "Maybe." But Riley wasn't convinced. Still, she continued with Leah through the break in the fence and into the woods.
    She was trying very hard to focus and concentrate, to settle and ground herself so she could get through what lay ahead without making a fool of herself. Or betraying herself.
    Professional, that was the ticket. Cool, detached, and professional. Whatever the reason she'd dated Jake Ballard, he would expect her to behave like a professional at a crime scene, however unofficial her presence.
    Riley remembered all that sexy underwear, and winced.
    Christ, she hoped he expected an FBI agent and not a lover.
    Surely she'd remember if she'd taken a lover in the last couple of weeks.
    Surely.
    "Grand Central Station," Leah muttered as they reached the clearing.
    There was plenty of activity, all right, and Riley was aware of a fleeting, though resigned, wish that she had been able to see the scene before it was trampled by many feet. Trained feet, for the most part, but not specially trained. And it showed.
    Rather than join them, Riley stood where she was at the edge of the clearing, her hands in the front pockets of her jeans, and just looked for several minutes. She ignored the uniformed deputies and technicians moving about, ignored the snatches of conversation she heard, closed out everything except the scene of a murder.
    Leah had been right: No one could see this and not know they were dealing with murder.
    Riley looked at what the killer had left. At the headless body that was still hanging by its wrists, at the blood-spattered rocks below. At the evidence of a fire nearby, which a technician was currently photographing.
    It all looked…familiar.
    "Riley, thanks for coming."
    She turned her head at the sound of his voice, holding on to her professional detachment with an effort. It was a nice voice. It was a nice package, of the tall, dark, and handsome variety. With piercing blue eyes thrown in just for gilding.
    Okay, so he was gorgeous. Maybe that was why she'd dated him.
    Sheriff Jake Ballard wore his uniform with an air that said he knew he looked good in it. He walked with an authority that wasn't quite a swagger. And he had the sort of smile-even