Once Hunted

“I don’t have many details,” Meredith said. “But as you probably know, he spent a lot of time in the prison library, and he often worked there as an assistant. Yesterday he was there when a book delivery came in. He must have slipped away on the truck that brought the books. Late last night, about the time guards noticed that he was missing, the truck was found abandoned a few miles outside of Ossining. There was no sign of the driver.”

Meredith fell silent again. Riley could easily believe that Hatcher had staged such a daring escape. As for the driver, Riley hated to think of what might have become of him.

Meredith leaned across his desk toward Riley.

“Agent Paige, you know Hatcher better than maybe anybody else. What can you tell us about him?”

Still reeling from the news, Riley took a deep breath.

She said, “In his youth, Hatcher was a gangbanger in Syracuse. He was unusually vicious even for a hardened criminal. People called him ‘Shane the Chain’ because he liked to beat gang rivals to death with chains.”

Riley paused, remembering what Shane had told her.

“A certain beat cop made it his personal mission to bring Hatcher down. Hatcher retaliated by pulverizing him to an unrecognizable pulp with tire chains. He left his mangled body on his front porch for his family to find. That’s when Hatcher got caught. He’s been in prison now for thirty years. He was never supposed to get out.”

Another silence fell.

“He’s fifty-five years old now,” Meredith said. “I’d think that after thirty years in prison, he wouldn’t be as dangerous as he was when he was young.”

Riley shook her head.

“You’d be thinking wrong,” she said. “Back then, he was just an ignorant punk. He had no idea of his own potential. But over the years he’s acquired a vast store of knowledge. He knows he’s a genius. And he’s never shown any real remorse. Oh, he’s developed a polished persona over the years. And he’s behaved himself in prison – it gets him privileges even if it won’t shorten his sentence. But I’m sure he’s more vicious and dangerous than ever.”

Riley thought for a moment. Something was bothering her. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Does anybody know why?” she asked.

“Why what?” Bill said.

“Why he escaped.”

Bill and Meredith exchanged puzzled looks.

“Why does anybody escape from prison?” Bill asked.

Riley understood how strange her question sounded. She remembered one time when Bill went with her to talk with Hatcher.

“Bill, you met him,” she said. “Did he strike you as – well, dissatisfied? Restless?”

Bill knitted his brow in thought.

“No, actually he seemed …”

His voice trailed off.

“Almost contented, maybe?” Riley said, finishing his thought. “Prison seems to suit him. I’ve never gotten the feeling that he even wants freedom. There’s something almost Zen-like about him, his non-attachment to anything in life. He’s got no desires that I know of. Freedom has nothing to offer him that he wants. And now he’s on the run, a wanted man. So why did he decide to escape? And why now?”

Meredith drummed his fingers on his desk.

“How did you leave things the last time you saw him?” he asked. “Did you part on good terms?”

Riley barely suppressed a wry smile.

“We never part on good terms,” she said.

Then after a pause, she added, “I understand what you’re getting at. You’re wondering if I’m his target.”

“Is it possible?” Bill asked.

Riley didn’t reply. Again, she remembered what Hatcher had said to her.

“You might not have to come back here to see me.”

Had it been a threat? Riley didn’t know.

Meredith said, “Agent Paige, I don’t need to tell you that this is going to be a high-pressure, high-profile case. Even as we speak, news is getting out to the media. Prison escapes are always big news. They can even cause public panic. Whatever it is he’s up to, we’ve got to stop him fast. I wish you didn’t have to come back to a case this dangerous and hard. Do you feel ready? Do you feel up to it?”

Riley felt a strange tingling as she thought about the question. It was a feeling that she’d seldom if ever felt before taking on a case. It took her a moment to realize that the feeling was fear, pure and simple.

But it wasn’t fear for her own safety. It was something else. It was something unnamable and irrational. Perhaps it was the fact that Hatcher knew her so well. In her experience, all prisoners wanted something in return for information. But Hatcher hadn’t been interested in the usual little offerings of whiskey or cigarettes. His own quid pro quo had been both simple and deeply unsettling.

He’d wanted her to tell him things about her.

“Something that you don’t want people to know,” he’d said. “Something you wouldn’t want anybody to know.”

Riley had complied, maybe too readily. Now Hatcher knew all sorts of things about her – that she was a flawed mother, that she hated her father and didn’t go to his funeral, that there was sexual tension between her and Bill, and that sometimes – like Hatcher himself – she took great pleasure in violence and killing.

She remembered what he’d said during their last visit.

“I know you. In some ways, I know you better than you know yourself.”

Could she really match wits with such a man? Meredith was sitting there, patiently awaiting an answer to his question.

“I’m as ready as I can be,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“Good,” Meredith said. “How do you think we should proceed?”

Riley thought for a moment.

“Bill and I need to look at all the information on Shane Hatcher that the Agency has on hand,” she said.

Meredith nodded and said, “I’ve already got Sam Flores setting things up.”

*

A few minutes later, Riley, Bill, and Meredith were in the BAU conference room looking at the huge multimedia display that Sam Flores had put together. Flores was a lab technician with black-rimmed glasses.

“I think I’ve got everything you could possibly want to see,” Flores said. “Birth certificate, arrest records, court transcripts, the works.”