In front of her, Andrew Hartlett now came at her with a knife. He took a single step down and slashed out at her. Afraid of falling himself, the blade missed Rachel’s chin by about six inches.

  The danger of the moment seemed to spring some action back into her momentarily shocked muscles. Form her oddly crouched position, Rachel drove a hard right-handed jab forward and slightly to the right. She caught him in the ribs, forcing him to double over. The taser went falling to the carpet as he hunched in half but he still managed to blindly lash out with the knife. Even from the stairs, Rachel was able to easily dodge the attack. As she side-stepped it, she then wheeled back towards him, meaning to throw another punch while ascending the stairs she’d fallen down.

  But Andrew was already on the attack. And it was reckless, to say the least.

  He came leaping at her. He wasn’t even worried about trying to stab her. He simply collided with her, wanting to knock her down the stairs. Their bodies slammed into one another and once again, Rachel was falling.

  Her back hit the stairs and though it hurt like hell, she knew this was her one chance to save the moment. Andrew was on top of her as they bounced, the knife somewhere in their tangle of limbs. But as Rachel’s back hit the stairs, driving the wind out of her, she was able to drive a knee up hard while also pushing him away with her hands. The result was Andrew pinwheeling over her body, going momentarily airborne in a partial flip down the rest of the stairs.

  It was perfect timing, too, because that’s when another bright flash of white light washed across Rachel’s vision. Seriously? she thought. Now?

  She was only barely able to feel her body come to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. A thudding pain began to escalate in her head, one she knew was a symptom of the tumor. It was far too similar to those first few days after the diagnosis, a gnawing sort of ache within in her head that felt as if it were drilling down deeper into her skull.

  She groaned and managed to get to her hands and knees, willing the light to fade away so that she could see Andrew Hartlett. Amazingly enough, it did pass. But when she tried getting to her feet, she found that she was instantly dizzy. And as she reeled, nearly falling to the floor, Andrew came at her again. She saw two things at once, both that worked in her favor. First, the knife was gone; he’d apparently dropped it during his tumble down the stairs. The second was that he was coming at her as if to deliver a huge right-handed haymaker.

  Even dizzy, she was able to avoid this while also turning it into a defensive move. She simply allowed herself to fall, giving in to the dizziness. When she did, she tried trapping Andrew’s legs in her own, trying to scissor them. She was too dizzy to pull the move off perfectly, but it was more than enough to get him on the ground again.

  When he hit, she instantly leaped onto him. The world swam and tilted but she managed to drive an elbow between his shoulder blades. This move took all of the energy out of him as he screeched out in pain. Rachel fumbled for her handcuffs, finding them on her belt. She nearly dropped them twice as she tried getting them around Andrew’s wrists. When he fought against her, Rachel gave into her frustrations over her condition. She drove a knee into his kidneys, driving it in much harder than was necessary. As the wind went racing out of him, Rachel was able to clasp the cuffs together. With that done, she rolled away from him and propped herself up against the wall.

  She’d dropped her Glock in the tumble but spotted it just a few feet away. Realizing how fortunate she was that Hartlett hadn’t seen it, she leaned over and snatched it up. Keeping it trained on Hartlett, she then fumbled for her phone. She took a series of deep breaths and as the dizziness finally started to subside, she pulled up Jack’s number.

  Just before he answered, she heard the faint noise of a car door closing outside and then Reggie Shelton’s voice. Moments later, Shelton’s front door opened, and two state police stepped inside.

  “Hey there,” Jack said as he answered her call. “You good?”

  “Yeah,” she said as the police hurried to Shelton’s prone body. “A little banged up, but I got him. He was here, upstairs in Shelton’s house.”

  “What? You’re serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said, a little too quickly.

  And maybe she was. She was aware of how much more centered and well-oriented she was while speaking with Jack. The dizziness was fading to nothing and even the thudding in her head seemed to die down to little more than a background ache.

  At the same time, though, she was going to finally have to face a hard truth. She’d blacked out twice during this case and both times, the lives of others had been on the line. She had to understand that carrying on like this, her physical issues were a liability. She’d become more of a danger than a help to those she was sent to serve.

  “Rachel?” he asked

  “Yeah, I think I’m fine. Just get here as soon as you can.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Rachel was sitting on Reggie Shelton’s back porch when Jack arrived forty minutes later. While she’d been waiting, Reggie had made her some tea and offered her food, which she’d accepted. She wasn’t hungry but knew she needed to keep something in her stomach if she wanted to keep her nerves down. She was mostly back to normal by the time he arrived, though the pain in her head was still there.

  The state police were in the living room with Andrew Hartlett, doing what they could to get him talk. Rachel heard a little snippet of it as the back door opened up and Jack stepped out.

  “Hey,” he said simply.

  “Hey yourself.”

  She was sitting in a rickety old patio chair, looking at the little strip of grass below. Jack sat in the one next to her and wasted no time looking over to her and digging in.

  “Your tumor acting up?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Did it while you were here with Hartlett?”

  “A bit.” She didn’t see the point in lying to him. She’d eventually tell him anyway and, being her partner, he deserved the entire truth.

  Jack thought about this a moment and asked, “Is that why you’re out here instead of in there with Hartlett?”

  “It was at first. Tumor or not, I was pretty shaken. I fell down a flight of stairs and almost had my face cut open. Oh, and I was tased, too. One of the officers came out here about ten minutes ago and said they wanted to finish up their questions and then he was all ours. I told them that was fine—that I’d rather wait until you arrived, anyway.”

  “Have you had a medic look after you?”

  “There was a cop here that looked me over, said he had ambulance training. But, no, not officially.”

  “Any chance I can talk you into seeing one?”

  “Not a very good one. Besides…I have the appointment with Dr. Emerson in two days. I can just have him look me over.” She looked back at him, giving him a puzzled expression. :So…that’s it? You’re not going to admonish me?”

  He shrugged. “I figure it’s not my job. Despite being hit by whatever side-effects you may have felt, you got the killer and you’re still alive. What do I have to complain about?”

  “I don’t mind you giving me a hard time about it, you know. It shows you care.”

  Jack opened his mouth to say something, but then bit it back at the last moment. He looked at her again and when he reached over to take her hand, it felt all too natural. It wasn’t just a simple gesture of comfort, but the interlocking of fingers, something that felt a little more intimate.

  “Of course I care. I want you to beat this, Rachel. But I also know how important this job is to you—how much it means to you. And selfishly, the longer you’re on the job, the more time I get to spend with you.”

  She looked down to their joined hands and then into his eyes. “You know, even if I decided to step down to…well, to sort this all out…I really would want you to come around.”

  “Yeah?”

  She felt herself leaning in towards him slowly. “Yeah. Jack, these last few months would have been so much harder without you. I don’t know if I could have stayed sane without you here.”

  He was leaning in now, too, and her heart seemed to sigh.

  When the back door opened up, though, they both drew back. Rachel released his hand, as if they were two teenagers caught making out by a parent. The officer that seemed to have been charge of the others stepped out to join them. If he’d seen anything a little out of the ordinary, he didn’t show it.

  “He’s basically confessing,” he said. “Doesn’t seem remorseful about it, either. If anything, he seemed pissed that he didn’t get to Borden, too. I figured you two might want to get in there and have a word with him before he really starts singing.”

  “Thanks,” Rachel said. “Give us one second.”

  The officer nodded and returned inside. Left alone with Jack, it took no time to understand that whatever had almost happened between them had passed. Still, the next comment out of Jack’s mouth had her wondering.

  “You ready for this?” he asked.

  With their eyes locked, she smiled at him and nodded. Whether it was questioning Hartlett or stepping into whatever this new thing between them was, the answer was an easy one.

  “Yes.”

  ***

  Rachel started to feel fatigued around eight, but the night was far from over. They still had reports to write, further questioning of Andrew Hartlett, and then coordinating it all with the Murphy’s Crossing PD. The officers worked well with Rachel and Jack, though, and Reggie Shelton was able to get his house back to normal by 9:30. The officers stepped out with Andrew Hartlett, with Rachel and Jack following in their tracks. On the way out, Reggie stopped Rachel at the door.

  “I suppose I should thank you for saving my life,” he said. The older man looked slightly shaken, maybe a little unsure how he felt about staying in his house alone tonight. “To think that man was in here, waiting for me…had you not showed up, there’s no telling…”

  “I was glad to help,” Rachel said. “Are you okay here?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

  She believed him, but there was something else in his eyes that made her think that he was probably going to spend most of the night thinking about the night he’d flipped the switch to execute Jonathan Hartlett. He walked them to the door and when Rachel got into the passenger side of Jack’s car she saw that he was still looking out at them.

  “Um, Rachel?” Jack said.

  “Yeah?”

  “What about the other car?”

  She chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah, totally forgot.”

  “It won’t be so bad,” he said. “Maybe the local PD will have someone deliver it up there or something.”

  “Maybe.” She got out of the car and looked back in at him. “See you at the station?”

  “Yeah, for sure.”

  “I’ll follow you,” she said. “I’m going to try to get Paige on the phone before it gets too late.”

  Jack nodded as she closed the door and got into her own car, the one they’d taken from the police department after visiting with Rob Meade. She got behind the wheel and called home right away. She knew it was too late, that Paige was probably already asleep, but she needed to hear her daughter’s voice.

  As the phone rang, she thought of falling down those stairs, of nearly getting cut in the face, of the tumor throwing her off kilter while she’d been in the midst of fight. The idea that any of that could have played out differently and ending her life was horrifying and opened her eyes to the things she was living for.

  The phone was answered on the third ring. Stephen Carson answered it, his voice quiet, “Gift residence.”

  “Hello, Agent Carson. It’s Rachel.”

  “Agent Gift! How are you?”

  “Fine. A little shaken. We just got our guy and it…well, it was a rough case.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she said as she watched Jack pull out into the night. She followed him as she added, “I was hoping to speak to Paige.”

  “Of course,” he said. “You do know she’s asleep, right?”

  “Yeah. But I’m okay with her being woken up.”

  “Hang on, then. I’ll send your grandmother up to wake her. I’m handing her over the phone, too.”

  “Great. Thanks so much.” She wanted to ask him several questions. How were things going there? Were there any updates on Alex Lynch? But more than anything, she wanted to talk to Paige. The questions could wait.

  “Rachel?” Grandma Tate said, taking the phone. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” She realized that she was getting emotional, tears stinging her eyes and a lump forming in her throat. “It’s just been a hard case and I want to speak with Paige.”

  “Oh, of course, dear. Hold on…here she is.”

  She could hear her grandmother waking Paige up, murmuring sweetly to her. The phone was jostled a bit and then her daughter’s voice was in her ear.

  “Mommy? Hey. It’s…it’s late. I was sleeping.”

  “I know, sweetie. I just needed to hear your voice.”

  Her tears started streaming and her voice was slightly choked up as she tried to go on.

  “Are you okay?” Paige asked. “You sound sad.”

  “No, no. Not sad at all. I’m just really happy to hear your voice. Did you have a good day?”

  “Yeah, it was okay I guess. After school, Agent Carson took me out to the backyard and taught me how to play bocce ball.”

  “Is that right?”

  Paige went on, going into detail about her day. And as the sleep wore away from her voice, Rachel’s tears dried up. Hearing Paige and thinking of how she and Jack had shared that moment on Reggie Shelton’s back porch, she realized that she was happier than she’d been in quite some time—tumor be damned.

  And through Paige’s stories and sleepy giggles, she realized that she couldn’t wait to get to Dr. Emerson to learn more about the experimental treatment he had in mind.

  She had, after all, spent a career tracking down bad guys and getting the better of them. Jack had even referred to her as a badass from time to time. So why would this tumor be any different form the evil people she brought to justice?

  She smiled as she followed Jack’s taillight and listened to Paige speak. One way or another, she was going to give it her all. And even if it sapped every last ounce of her strength, she was going to beat this cancer. She owed it not only to the precious little voice on the other end of the phone, but to herself as well.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  It was 9:17 when Alex Lynch crossed a mostly darkened street and walked up the sidewalk of a small house in Chesterfield, just outside of Richmond. The neighborhood was a small one, filled with similarly sized houses. It was only about five miles from Richmond proper, a small burg of sorts situated in a much larger city’s shadow.

  Lynch walked up the sidewalk as if he owned the place or had been invited. Though it was dark and there was no one out on the streets, anyone that may have happened to pass by and see him would have noticed there was a slight smile on his face as he approached the stairs and stepped up onto the porch.

  The porchlight was not on, but a soft, pale light flickered in the window to the left. As Alex leaned toward the door, he could hear a television playing inside. With the smile still on his face, he knocked on the door.

  He could picture the hesitation inside. It was 9:20 on a weeknight. No one inside would be anxious to answer the knock. Still, he heard movement inside the house as someone came walking to the door. Alex watched the knob and saw it jiggle just a bit but then the person on the other side seemed to think better of it.

  “Yeah?” came a man’s voice. “Who’s there?”

  “A friend,” Alex said.

  “Nice try. You’ll have to do better than that.”

  “I know your family, sir. I fear they may be in danger. Please open the door.”

  There was more hesitancy and then the man spoke again. As Alex had expected there was more fear than anger in his voice. “How about I call the cops instead?”

  “It would be a waste of your time.”

  This time when the knob jiggled, the door opened slowly. A man of about thirty-five or so peered out and eyed him closely. “Okay,” he said. “You have my attention. Who are you?”

  “Like I said…just a friend. You, though…you’re Peter Gift, right?”

  “I am. Now…who the hell are you?”

  “You just walked away from your family, huh? Rachel and cute little Paige?”

  Anger roared into Peter Gift’s eyes as he took one large step out onto the porch. But Alex didn’t move a muscle. “Who the fu—”

  Alex plunged the knife forward quickly, having hidden it down by his side the entire time. He sank it all the way to the hilt in Peter’s stomach and then withdrew it immediately. Blood came pouring out but Alex never saw it. The moment Peter stumbled forward from the wound in his stomach, Alex drove the knife forward again. This time, it sank into his chest. When there was a bit of resistance, Alex pushed harder.

  Peter Gift fell to his knees, teetering back inside the house. Alex kicked him hard, his foot slamming into the hilt of the knife.

  With the same smile on his face, Alex stepped inside and closed the door behind them. Peter writhed on the floor, trying to scream, trying to speak, but only gasps and blood came out.

  Alex knelt by Peter’s side and drew the knife out. Looking down into the dying man’s face, he laughed softly. “Looks like you’re the only family member Rachel didn’t care about keeping protected. A shame…”

  He then adjusted his grip on the knife and slammed it down again.

  And then again.

  He didn’t stop for a very long time, not until he’d done enough damage to where he thought Rachel would get the message.

  NOW AVAILABLE!

 

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