Page 24 of Silent Prayer

Rachel scooped Mochi into her arms, hugging him tight. "Yes, yes he does. Oh, thank you so much! Where did you find him?"

"He was wandering down Maple Street, looking quite lost," the man said. "Luckily, one of the neighbors recognized him. I'm Jack, by the way. I live a few blocks over on Elm."

Rachel nodded—hedidlook vaguely familiar. "I'm Rachel. I can't thank you enough, Jack. I was so worried when I couldn't find him."

Jack waved off her thanks. "It was no trouble at all. I'm just glad I could reunite you two." He paused, looking slightly embarrassed. "I hate to impose, but would you mind if I washed my hands? My wife is terribly allergic to dogs, and I'd rather not bring any fur home with me."

Rachel hesitated. She generally didn't like letting strangers into her home, but this man had just done her an enormous favor. It seemed ungrateful to refuse such a simple request.

"Of course," she said, stepping back to allow him entry. "The powder room is just down the hall, first door on the left."

Jack smiled gratefully and stepped inside. Rachel closed the door behind him, still cuddling Mochi close. She'd have to figure out how he'd gotten out later. For now, she was just relieved to have him back safe and sound.

As Jack disappeared down the hallway, Rachel set Mochi down and grabbed her phone. She fired off a quick text to her assistant, explaining the situation and asking her to reschedule the investor meeting if possible. It was a long shot, but maybe she could still salvage this day.

She was just setting the phone down on a table when a voice from behind her startled her. "You have a lovely home," Jack said. She hadn't heard him return.

"Oh, thank you," Rachel replied, turning to face him. "I've put a lot of work into it."

Jack nodded, his eyes roaming over the expensive furnishings and artwork. "I can see that. It's quite...impressive."

There was something in his tone that made Rachel uneasy. It wasn't quite disapproval, but it wasn't admiration either. She suddenly felt the urge to defend herself, though she wasn't sure why.

"I've worked hard to get where I am," she said, her chin lifting slightly.

Jack's eyes snapped back to her, a strange intensity in his gaze. "I'm sure you have. But tell me, Rachel, do you ever feel like something's missing? Like all of this," he gestured around the room, "isn't quite enough?"

Rachel blinked, taken aback by the personal nature of the question. "I...I'm not sure what you mean."

Jack took a step closer, and Rachel instinctively took one back. "I mean, do you ever feel an emptiness in your life? A longing for something more...spiritual?"

Alarm bells began to ring in Rachel's head. This conversation had taken a bizarre turn, and she was starting to feel very uncomfortable.

"I'm an atheist, actually," she said, hoping to shut down this line of questioning. "I don't really believe in anything spiritual."

Jack's face darkened, and Rachel resisted the urge to shudder. "That's a shame," he said, his voice low and intense. "A young woman like you, wallowing in the darkness of your own disbelief. It's not too late to save your soul, you know."

Rachel's heart began to race. This wasn't right. Something was very, very wrong. She needed to get this man out of her house now.

"I think you should leave," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Thank you again for bringing Mochi back, but I have a lot of work to do."

Jack didn't move. Instead, his eyes seemed to bore into her, filled with a fervor that frightened her. "I can't leave you like this, Rachel. You need to be shown the error of your ways. You need to be cleansed. Join me and I will show you the truth."

Rachel's blood ran cold. Join him? What in the world was he talking about? Her mind flashed to the news reports she'd been seeing lately, about a killer targeting women in Coldwater. Could it be...?

She needed to call for help. Her phone was on the side table, just a few feet away. If she could just reach it...

"I...I appreciate your concern," she said, forcing a smile as she picked up her phone again, trying to act casual about it. "But really, I'm fine. I'm happy with my life as it is."

Jack shook his head sadly. "No, you're not. You're lost, Rachel. Only I can help you—nobody else."

She pretended not to have heard him. "The whole company seems to fall apart as soon as I'm gone," she said with a nervouslaugh, tapping away at the phone as if sending a text to a colleague. Instead, however, she dialed 9-1-1.

Keep him talking,she thought.Keep him distracted.

"Do you have a job, Jack?" she asked, glancing up from her phone. Then she froze in horror. Jack was now holding an ornate brass candlestick—one she recognized from her own dining room.

Jack raised the candlestick, a serene smile on his face that contrasted horrifically with the violence of his posture. "I gave you a chance, Rachel, but you refused. This is on you."

---