Page 22 of Her Last Farewell

Rachel nodded, her brain working overtime as the pieces started to take shape and click together. If Monica's family's rejection had driven her to contemplate suicide, did that automatically make her a target for whoever was out there, nabbing suicidal people? It was still an unformed theory but now that they had further confirmation with Monica Turner, Rachel was almost willing to bet that was exactly what was taking place.

"Let's head back to the precinct," she said. "We need to compile everything we know about these missing women. There has to be a pattern we can use to find them."

She saw a look of disappointment on Novak’s face as they pulled away from the Turner house. She wondered if he, too, was starting to feel like this case was nothing more than a lot of running around in circles. But as for Rachel, she still saw that teenage girl at the window, bearing the weight of family secretsand the absence of her sister. It was further evidence that this case was indeed deeper than they’d originally thought and that some houses, no matter how perfect they appeared from the outside, held darkness hiding within their walls.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

As they once again made their way back to the Bowery precinct, Rachel could feel the afternoon rapidly getting away from them. The road stretched before them, eerily empty save for the occasional passing truck. From her place behind the wheel, she peered out into those rural Virginia forests, wondering just how many dark secrets they were hiding.

"Let's lay out what we know," Rachel said. "We have four women who've gone missing: Monica Turner, Andrea Haskins, Sarah Dupree, and Carla Rhodes." She paused, tapping her pen against the paper. "And we can eliminate Jane Casagrande since multiple sources confirm she likely relocated to Kentucky to escape an abusive relationship."

Novak nodded, his hands steady on the wheel. "And all four remaining women were dealing with thoughts of suicide."

But before she could start speaking, a text notification lit up her phone screen. She didn’t pick up her phone because she was driving, but she did glance at it long enough to see that it was Jack, asking for an update and wondering when she would be home. The sight of the notification made her realize she hadn't checked in on Paige all day. What class would her daughter be in right now? Seventh period? Eighth? The fact that she couldn't remember her own daughter's schedule sent a wave of guilt through her. Some mother she was, hunting killers while not even knowing where her child was at this exact moment. It stirred up echoes of the wrestling match she used to have in the past, trying to balance her career with being a supportive and loving mother. Was she really already going back there?

She pushed the thought aside, forcing herself back to the case. "Exactly," she went on. "Monica's sister confirmed it, despite her mother's denials. We know Andrea had discussedit with her therapist. Sarah's note, while not explicitly suicidal, hinted at wanting to escape her life. And Carla..." She trailed off, flipping through her notes. "Carla left what appeared to be a clear suicide note."

"But something's off about all of this," Novak said as Rachel slowed for a stop sign at an intersection.. "If these women were truly suicidal, why the disappearances? Why not just..." He left the thought unfinished.

Rachel completed it for him. "Why not just follow through with it? Most suicides are relatively straightforward; the note is written, the act is committed. There's rarely a prolonged disappearance first." She rubbed her temples, feeling the weight of the day's revelations. "And then there's the matter of Carla's body."

The car turned onto the main road leading into Bowery, passing the town's faded welcome sign. Rachel continued, "Those bruises and abrasions around her wrists and ankles tell us something crucial. She was restrained, held somewhere against her will before she was killed."

"For five months," Novak added. "That's a long time to hold someone captive."

Rachel's mind raced through the possibilities. "What if..." She hesitated, knowing how speculative her next thought would sound. But she found that it sounded just as good verbally as it had in her head upon leaving the Turner house. "What if someone is specifically targeting these women because they're suicidal?"

Novak glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. "You mean someone's watching for women showing signs of suicidal thoughts? Following them?"

"Or finding them through some other means," Rachel said. "Think about it. These women were all vulnerable, potentially isolated. Some had already written notes explaining theirdisappearance. Like we keep saying over and over again…who, outside of family, would look hard for someone who'd expressed a desire to end their life?"

The precinct building came into view ahead of them, its brick facade darkening in the fading daylight. Rachel's mind drifted momentarily to Scarlett's murder. Something about these disappearances, the methodical nature of them, the careful planning, reminded her of how Scarlett's death had been staged to look like a random home invasion. But Rachel knew better. The precision, the lack of evidence, the timing of it all... it felt personal. Like someone trying to send her a message.

She shook her head, trying to focus on the current case. It seemed that her brain was now becoming easily distracted…something she was usually very good about. These women needed her full attention right now. While she did feel like there might be some odd mystery waiting at home, centered around Scarlett’s death, she had to keep her focus tight on Bowery—on hunting this killer and hopefully even finding a few of these missing women.

Several minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot, but neither made a move to exit the car. They were far too deep into theories and thoughts to risk losing it all now.

"But that brings us back to the crucial question," Novak said as Rachel turned off the engine. "Why keep them alive for months only to kill them? Why did Carla Rhodes have to die after five months of captivity?"

Rachel stared through the windshield, watching an American flag flutter limply in the evening breeze above the precinct entrance. "If it's one person doing this," she said slowly, "maybe there's a limit to how many they can handle at once. Maybe it becomes too much.”

“Maybe,” Novak said, “when they find a new victim, they have to... make room."

The implications of her words hung heavy in the car's interior. After a moment, they exited the car and headed inside again. The bullpen was quieter now, with only a handful of officers finishing up their afternoon shifts. There were still a few quick glances in their direction as they headed over to their temporary workspace, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as before.

They found Deputy Leery at his desk, surrounded by stacks of manila folders. His coffee cup, emblazoned with the department's logo, sat empty beside his computer monitor. Rachel noticed the dark circles under his eyes. It seemed this case was wearing on everyone.

"Deputy," Rachel said, pulling up a chair. "We've been developing a theory about these disappearances. Maybe you should hear it, too. Maybe you can provide some local insight."

Leery looked up, his expression attentive. "I'm all ears, Agent Gift."

Rachel laid out their thoughts methodically, starting with the suicide connections and moving through the evidence of captivity found on Carla's body. She explained their suspicion that someone might be specifically targeting vulnerable women, possibly holding multiple victims simultaneously. She felt like she was retreading old information for some of it, but putting it all together into one cohesive approach seemed to help not just Leery, but herself as well.

"The timing is crucial," she emphasized. "Carla Rhodes' body appears in the woods not too long after Andrea Haskins goes missing. If our theory is correct, the killer may have needed to eliminate one victim to make room for another."

Leery leaned back in his chair, and thought it over. Rachel noticed that he was again scratching at the scraggly hair on his cheek. She thought it might be a sort of nervous tic for him. "In all my years here, we've never dealt with anything like this. Serial killers, kidnappings - those are big city problems. At least,that's what we always told ourselves. I was part of one single kidnapping about four years ago, and that's it. This is just…this is so much."

A younger officer who had been listening from nearby spoke up. He approached timidly, looking first to Leery and then to the agents. "We could organize a search. Get the whole department involved, go door to door through the county. If this theory is right…someone must have seen something."

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