“Bill’s heading there tomorrow.He’s going to check in with campus security, make sure they’re aware of the situation.”Riley pushed through the glass doors of the building, the rush of cool air from the air conditioning raising goosebumps on her arms.“But I can’t shake this feeling that I should be the one going there.Not flying off to Atlanta for a case.”
They badged through security and headed for the elevator.Ann Marie pressed the button for the fourth floor, where Meredith’s office was located.
“If there’s anything I can do to help...”Ann Marie offered.
Riley gave her a small, appreciative smile.“Thanks.For now, let’s just see what Meredith has for us.He was insistent that I take this one on.”
The elevator doors opened with a soft ping, revealing the familiar corridor that led to the BAU offices.As they walked, Riley tried to focus on the task ahead, pushing thoughts of April to a compartment in her mind that she could revisit later.But the image of Leo Dillard—his intense eyes, the way he had leaned too close during office hours, the uncomfortable questions about her personal life—kept bleeding through.
Meredith’s office door stood open, the African-American man himself visible behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear.He gestured for them to enter when he spotted them, his conversation continuing as they took seats across from him.
Riley studied her superior’s face, noting the deep lines around his eyes.Brent Meredith cut a daunting presence even when seated—his broad frame and his perpetually serious expression a reminder of why he’d risen to Special Agent in Charge of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.
“Yes, I understand the sensitivity.I’ve got my best team on it.”He said into the phone.“They’re heading out within the hour.We’ll coordinate directly with Atlanta PD.”A pause.“Yes, I’ll keep you updated.”He hung up with a weary sigh.
“This high-profile case has everyone jumpy,” he said by way of greeting.
“What are we looking at?”Riley asked, forcing herself to engage despite the distraction of her personal concerns.
Meredith slid a file across the desk.“Veronica Slate was murdered last night at Magnolia Gateway Films studio in Atlanta.Poisoned, specifically.”
Riley’s eyes widened slightly as she recognized the name.“The actress?Roberta Rimes’ daughter?”
“The same,” Meredith confirmed.“But it’s the method that’s concerning us.The murder was staged as a re-creation of a scene from her mother’s breakout film,The Night Walker.”
Ann Marie leaned forward.“Where Roberta Rimes’ character is poisoned while singing at a nightclub?”
Riley and Meredith both turned to look at her with mild surprise.
“What?”Ann Marie said with a small shrug.“I went through a classic noir phase in college.That film’s iconic.”
“She’s right,” Riley said, opening the file.Crime scene photos revealed an elaborate set designed to look exactly like the fictional “Midnight Lounge” from the 1954 film.Veronica Slate’s body lay sprawled on the checkered floor, her face frozen in a rictus of pain.“It looks like they recreated the entire set from the film for some kind of retrospective event.”
“Precisely,” Meredith said.“Magnolia Gateway Films was hosting a weeklong celebration of Roberta Rimes’ work, culminating on what would have been her hundredth birthday.Veronica Slate was the guest of honor.After a screening ofThe Night Walker,the guests were invited to this replica of the nightclub set where Rimes’ character was murdered.”
“And then history repeated itself,” Riley murmured, flipping through more photos.“Strychnine?”
“Preliminary tox screen suggests so,” Meredith confirmed.“Just like in the film.”
“This is no ordinary homicide,” Ann Marie observed.
“Which is why Detective Marcus Hayes of Atlanta PD reached out to us,” Meredith interjected.“This has all the markings of a highly organized killer with possible obsessive tendencies toward film or Roberta Rimes specifically.And given the public nature of the murder—”
“There were witnesses,” Riley concluded, studying a photo showing elegant partygoers standing in shocked clusters around the perimeter of the crime scene.“How many?”
“About thirty,” Meredith said.“All film industry people, critics, or special invitees to the retrospective.The murder happened in full view of everyone present, yet somehow the poison was administered without anyone noticing.”
“And the media?”Ann Marie asked.
Meredith’s expression darkened.“Already a circus.Veronica Slate was Hollywood royalty, and the theatrical nature of the murder has every entertainment reporter in the country descending on Atlanta.Hayes is overwhelmed, and the mayor’s office is panicking about the publicity.”
Riley closed the file.This was exactly the type of complex, high-profile case that demanded her full attention—the type of case she’d built her career on solving.And yet, all she could think about was April, alone on a college campus with Leo Dillard possibly lurking nearby.
“Sir,” she began, “about the timing of this assignment—”
Meredith held up a hand.“Before you continue, Paige, let me be clear.I need you on this case.You have the experience with obsessive perpetrators and the skills to navigate the media attention.”
“I understand that,” Riley said, leaning forward in her chair.“But there’s a situation with my daughter that I need to address first.”
