CHAPTER FORTY THREE
Bill had been making this same short trip almost every day since Riley had gone to Iowa. His regular drive-by checks of Riley’s house had only been interrupted by his emotional collapse on Sunday.
He knew that PTSD could happen to anyone. He’d even helped see Riley through a terrible bout with it. But it still embarrassed him that he had fallen apart and drawn Riley away from her assignment.
Now that Riley was back to her job, Bill felt good to be back to his unofficial duty.
But then he noticed something unsettling.
The unmarked police car parked in front of the house appeared to be empty.
What the hell? he thought.
Bill parked his own car nearby, got out, and looked inside the other vehicle.
Sure enough, nobody was in the car.
He felt a rush of anger.
During
