The Scum of All Fears: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 5 Read Free Page B

and rubbed his cheek.
    I put my hand on his back and massaged his taut muscles, trying for the life of me to figure out why he was reacting this way. Serial killers were bad. I got that. But Riley didn’t generally have this reaction to them. It wasn’t like either of us lived in a bubble. No, we dealt with scum every day; Riley, as a lawyer, and me as a crime scene cleaner.
    When the news report was over, Riley fell back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I can’t believe it,” he repeated. He blinked as if absorbing life-altering news.
    “I’m so not following a single thing that is happening right now. This Jones guy escaped from a prison in California. We’re in Virginia—” I stopped myself. Riley had moved here from California. A year ago. There was no possible way that . . .
    He closed his eyes. “I put him behind bars.”
    My hand dropped from Riley’s back. “What?”
    “He was the big case that made my career. I put him away and became a bit of a hero in the region when I nailed his conviction. The case consumed me. It was all I wanted to eat, drink, and breathe for months.”
    Some of this was coming back to me. I knew he’d been involved in some big cases, but his time as a prosecutor in California seemed like another lifetime ago. “I still don’t understand why you look so shocked. I realize this is a big deal, but—”
    H e leaned toward me and grabbed my hand. “I don’t think you realize just how huge this is, Gabby.”
    “Explain it to me then.” I braced myself for whatever he might have to say. The only time Riley overreacted was when it came to my safety, and my safety wasn’t in play right now. I had nothing to do with this case.
    For once.
    “As Jones was led out of the courtroom, he vowed that he would get out and that he’d get even. He said he’d pay me back for putting him behind bars and that he would make everyone in my life pay.”
    “Make them pay?” My throat felt dry.
    “Make them pay just like he made those women he killed pay.”
    His words caused something ice cold to course through my blood. I barely even smelled the chicken burning in the next room over.

CHAPTER 3
    “Okay, well, he’s in California. How’s a fugitive going to get to Virginia? That would be crazy. No way he’s sneaking on an airplane. If he steals a car or jumps on a train, he would still take a few days to travel across the country. By that time, the police are going to catch him.” I nodded, totally convinced that my theory was correct.
    Riley had turned the burner of f and called for a pizza. With those all-important details taken care of, we could concentrate on more important things. Things like our lives.
    “Milton Jones i s sneaky. He’s conniving. No one can still figure out how he got into those people’s homes. He never told anyone and the police couldn’t figure it out.” He shook his head. “And what he did to those women . . .”
    “What did he do to those women?” I was squeezing my own hand so hard that I nearly yelped.
    Riley rubbed his cheek again before turning down the volume on the TV as a consumer report came on. “You don’t want to know. It was horrific. The crime scene photos gave me nightmares for weeks.”
    They had to be serious if they gave Riley nightmares.
    He leaned back on the couch, any sense of lightness and teasing that had been present earlier gone faster than my peace of mind. He stared into the distance, as if going back to a different time. “Everyone in the area was on edge. People wouldn’t let their daughters go out at night. They bought extra locks for their doors. Tons of new neighborhood watch groups started. People lived in fear over this guy.”
    As I pulled one of my knees to my chest, my stomach grumbled, and I really wished that chicken had n’t burned. “Let me guess, when they caught him, no one could believe he was guilty. They all said what a nice man he was. Isn’t that what the neighbors always say?”
    He