Page 41 of Once Silenced

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Riley’s gaze was fixed on the figure seated behind the glass.She thought Derek Aldrich looked younger than when she had been chasing him.She knew he was in his mid-twenties, but bent over the table he looked more like a skinny teenager.His light brown hair was combed neatly, and his dark eyes darted anxiously about the room.

A typical young geek, she thought.He’d been skillful at evading capture or even detection, but his flight on foot had been clumsy.

Aldrich sat flanked by his public defender—a young man with earnest eyes whose name was Jonah Bell—and the city’s prosecuting attorney, a sharp-featured woman known for her tenacity, Elise Hammond.

Ann Marie Putnam, and Prendergast all stood outside the interrogation room beside Riley, watching through the glass that was a mirror when seen from the other side.

“Can’t hear a damn thing,” Ann Marie complained.

It was inconvenient but true.The two lawyers had insisted on keeping the room’s mic turned off until they’d finished their consultation.

“Body language says it all,” Riley replied.Aldrich’s fidgeting hands, the way he leaned forward, then recoiled, spoke volumes of his desperation.

Bell seemed to be doing most of the talking, gesturing emphatically toward the paperwork before them, while Hammond listened, her expression unmoved, the pen poised in her hand like a sword ready to strike.

Derick Aldrich sat slumped, displaying none of his former bravado, his public defender’s hand resting reassuringly on his back.As Riley and her colleagues watched, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair, the stark fluorescent lighting casting pallid shadows across his features.His hands fidgeted, and he swallowed too frequently.

“Looks like our Mr.Aldrich is worried,” murmured Ann Marie.

“We’ve got him dead to rights,” Prendergast noted.“And he knows it.”

Putnam turned his attention toward Riley.“So, Agent Paige, you still haven’t told me—how did you find Aldrich holed up in that old house?It was like you had a map straight to him.”

Riley couldn’t help but let a small smirk form on her lips.She enjoyed the enigma she presented to Putnam, the seasoned agent who found her methods unorthodox at best and infuriating at worst.She met his gaze squarely, letting silence stretch between them before answering.

“Trade secrets, Putnam,” she said with a nonchalant shrug.“But trust me, sometimes it’s all about connecting the dots no one else sees.”

Putnam snorted, folding his arms across his chest.“You expect me to believe it was just good detective work?There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Believe what you want,” Riley countered, her voice light.She turned back to the glass, watching Aldrich interact with his public defender.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Putnam muttered, but there was a grudging respect in his tone.

Riley heard Ann Marie suppress a chuckle, knowing full well the covert role Van Roff has played in the suspect’s capture.Riley was glad Ann Marie was keeping quiet about her “trade secret.”

A sharp rap on the glass jarred Riley from her thoughts, snapping her back to the situation at hand.Elise Hammond tapped a staccato rhythm on the one-way mirror.

“Looks like it’s showtime,” murmured Detective Prendergast, his voice a low rumble beside her.

Riley, with Ann Marie and Putnam in tow, filed into the sterile room, leaving Prendergast to watch and listen from outside now that the mic was turned back on.Jonah Bell, Aldrich’s public defender, stood up, his suit ill-fitting and crumpled like a paper bag.

“Mr.Aldrich has made a decision,” Jonah Bell announced, his voice betraying a hint of triumph.“He’s prepared to plead guilty and provide information crucial to your investigation, in exchange for a reduced sentence.”

The prosecuting attorney nodded her iron-gray bob and retreated to a chair away from the table.“Make your case then,” she challenged them.

Aldrich’s eyes flickered among them, the arrogance that once filled them now diluted with something akin to desperation.A plea deal was his lifeline, but what he offered in return would determine the weight of the anchor he’d have to carry.

“Start talking, Aldrich,” Riley commanded.“This had better be useful.”

She perched on the edge of the table, deliberately invading his space.Her proximity was a silent assertion of control, a reminder that she was the gatekeeper between him and the freedom he so desperately sought.

“Look, I didn’t kill those people,” Aldrich began, his voice rough, like gravel underfoot.He leaned back in his chair, trying to reclaim some semblance of the power he had wielded before his capture.“You’ve got the wrong guy if you think I’m behind any murders.”

Riley observed him closely, her every sense tuned to the nuances of his speech, the telltale signs that separated truth from deception.Every BAU agent developed skills of reading the subtext so often woven through words.Combined with Riley’s unusual perceptions, that made lying to her very difficult.

“Let’s hear what you have,” she said.

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