CHAPTER SEVEN
As their plane descended into DC, Riley sat with Jilly snuggled against her shoulder, napping. Even the little dog, nervous and whiny at the beginning of the flight, had settled down quickly. Darby was curled up and sleeping quietly in the carrier they’d hastily bought from the airline. Jilly had explained to Riley that Barbara Long had approached her outside the restroom and convinced her to go with her to get Darby, claiming she hated dogs and wanted Jilly to have her. When she got to the car, Barbara shoved her inside and locked the doors, and they took off.
Now that the whole ordeal was over, Riley found herself thinking again about that weird phone call from Morgan Farrell last night …
“I killed the bastard,” Morgan had said.
Riley had called the Atlanta police right
