CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
The day had been unproductive, but even so Riley didn’t get back to her hotel room until after 10 o’clock that night. They still weren’t any closer to finding the killer or the women he was holding captive. To make things worse, she and Bill had been dodging reporters everywhere they went.
She sat down on her bed and looked at the text messages she’d been sending to April during the day. The last was still marked “delivered,” not “read.” April was going to some trouble to keep on ignoring her.
Riley dialed the house number and Gabriela answered.
“How are things at home?” Riley asked. “What’s going on with April?”
“I don’t know, Señora Riley,” Gabriela said, her voice sounding uneasy. “She has been very odd, doesn’t say much. She went to bed early.”
Riley felt a pri
