Page 34 of Her Last Warning
Rachel's mind raced back to the crime scenes: Marcy Connors, the house showing no real signs of a struggle…just the damned letter.Robert Hayes, methodical and clean.But Michelle Lester—there had been signs of struggle, overturned furniture, broken glass.Maybe there had been different hands had been at work there.
The final pieces clicked into place with terrible clarity and there was now no denying it.Rachel leaned closer to Linda, whose mascara had created dark rivers down her cheeks."Is Michael involved in this, too?"
The name hit Linda like a physical blow.Her mouth opened in a silent scream before the sound finally tore free—a primal wail of anguish that seemed to echo off the concrete walls.Her entire body convulsed as she folded in on herself, decades of grief and rage and madness pouring out in an unstoppable torrent.
"I tried," she gasped between sobs."I tried to do it alone.To protect him.But...it was going to take both of us to right all these wrongs!To restore the balance.To make things right.Emma needed both of us."
Rachel turned to Novak, her heart pounding.She had a hunch weighing on her heart and the longer is sat there, the more like an absolutely certainty it felt."We have to get back to Shook's.Now!"
As they rushed from the room, Linda's sobs followed them down the hallway, a broken mother's chorus of loss and vengeance.She called for them to leave Michael alone, to let him pay his own respects to their baby.But Rachel ignored her, her mind trembling with the implications of what they'd learned.Two parents, shattered by their daughter's death, trying to balance the cosmic scales with blood.But Michael was still out there, and David Shook's miracle might yet become his curse.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Rachel once again found herself staring ahead through a windshield blocked by rain and wipers, each arc leaving her with only a split second of clarity before the rain obscured her view again.She leaned forward in her seat, muscles tense, as if the slight change in position could help her pierce the gray and black scene on the other side.Beside her, Novak's knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel as he guided their vehicle through streets that had become treacherous mirrors of the steel-gray sky above and the headlights and brake lights down below.
Rachel's years of experience had taught her to trust her instincts, and right now every nerve ending in her body was screaming that something was terribly wrong.If Linda had not been able to finish the job, surely Michael would.She had no idea if the two of them watched over one another during their tasks, but it would make sense.And surely Michael would want to pick up where his wife had been stopped.
"There!"Rachel's finger jabbed toward Hook's house—the sight of which was now all too familiar.Novak didn't bother looking for a parking spot, not wanting to waste the time.The car lurched to a halt in the middle of the street, hazard lights cutting angry orange slashes through the rain.The back-ended skidding a bit against the wet cobblestone.The engine was still running when they burst from the car, shoes striking puddles that exploded around their ankles.The cold water immediately soaked through Rachel's pants legs, but she barely noticed the discomfort.
Rachel's heart hammered against her ribs as they sprinted up the walkway.The rain felt like ice needles against her exposed skin, each drop a tiny shock that only heightened her awareness of the situation..Her hand instinctively moved to her weapon, though she hadn't drawn it yet.But somehow, she already knew it would come to that.It was a deep-seeded certainty.
Novak's fist connected with the door, the sound almost lost in a well-timed thunderclap."FBI!Mr.Shook, open up!"His voice carried the authority of his position, but Rachel could hear the underlying tension in it.He'd been in enough situations like this to know when something was wrong, and everything about this scene was setting off alarm bells.
Silence stretched for three eternal seconds.The rain drummed against the porch roof above them, creating a curtain of water that isolated them from the rest of the world.Then, from behind the door, came a sound that made Rachel's blood run cold – a garbled whisper, desperate and fading: "Help!"She wasn’t sure she’d even heard it at first because the rain had nearly covered it up but it was there.She looked to Novak and the expression on his face told her that he had heard it, too.
The crash that followed from inside galvanized them into action.Rachel immediately stepped to the side, drawing her weapon in one fluid motion as Novak positioned himself.They'd done this countless times before, but each instance carried its own weight of possibility and danger.Her breath came in measured pulls, her training taking over as adrenaline began to surge through her system.
Novak made a well-measured stride toward the door, almost as if mimicking a giant in a marching formation.His foot connected with the door just beside the lock, the wood splintering with a sound like a gunshot.The door flew inward, rebounding off the wall with enough force to crack the drywall.The impact sent fragments of wood skittering across the floor, disappearing into the shadows of the dimly lit interior.
The living room that had been pristine just hours ago, warm and inviting with its 90s grunge being played on Shook’s record player, now looked like a war zone.The meticulously organized workspace was in chaos – papers scattered like dead leaves across the floor, a laptop lying face-down and broken, its screen a spider web of cracks.The leather armchair had been overturned, its stuffing spilling out from a fresh tear like the innards of a wounded animal.Books had been knocked from their shelves, lying splayed and broken-spined on the floor.The small area rug in the living room had been skewed, the left front corner kicked up.
But Rachel barely registered these details because her attention was immediately drawn to the scene unfolding in the space between the living room and kitchen.The overhead light cast harsh shadows across the tableau, making it seem almost surreal, like a nightmare brought to life.
Michael Reynolds straddled David Shook's chest, his hands locked around the other man's throat with terrible purpose.Shook's face had taken on a dusky purple hue, his eyes bulging as he weakly clawed at his attacker's arms.His legs kicked uselessly against the floor, disturbing the scattered papers around them.A broken coffee mug lay nearby, dark liquid seeping into the carpet—too light to be coffee, so it was likely tea.
"Get off of him, Mr.Reynolds!"Rachel's voice cracked through the air like a whip.Reynolds turned toward them, and in that moment, Rachel saw something that made her chest constrict: recognition.It was indeed him.From the support group this morning.She and Novak had been standing right beside the bastard at the snack table and had no idea.It was an infuriating thought, and Rachel made herself squash it right away.There was nothing they could do about it now.
Reynolds's eyes flickered for a moment, and a second or two of confusion and uncertainty seemed to settle over him.And then there was sadness, a sort of disappointment in understanding that this was the end of his mission, the failure of his twisted crusade.In his eyes, she saw the desperate clarity of a man who knew he'd reached the end of his path but couldn't bring himself to stop walking it.
Reynolds' hands loosened their death grip on Shook's throat.A rattling gasp filled the room as Shook desperately sucked in air, but Rachel couldn't tell if it would be enough.The purple tinge to his face hadn't begun to fade, and the way his chest heaved spoke of damaged airways and desperate need.
"I'm sorry..."Reynolds' voice emerged broken, laden with an anguish that Rachel recognized all too well.She'd heard that same tone in the voices of countless victims and survivors – people whose lives had been irreparably shattered by circumstances beyond their control.For a fraction of a second, she saw not the monster who had been systematically murdering innocent people, but a father who had lost everything.The weight of his grief seemed to press against her chest, a tangible force in the room.
Then Reynolds' face contorted into a mask of primal fury.It was so quick that it took Rachel by surprise.The scream that tore from his throat contained multitudes – rage, grief, desperation, and something else that Rachel couldn't quite name.It was the sound of a soul being torn apart, of a man who had lost not just his daughter but his very humanity in the wake of that tragedy.He launched himself toward her with shocking speed, hands outstretched like claws.His eyes wild with a madness that seemed to have consumed whatever rational person he might once have been.
Rachel's finger tightened on the trigger of her Glock, muscle memory and training screaming at her to end the threat.But in that split second, before she could squeeze, she caught his eyes again.Behind the rage, behind the insanity, she saw Emma.She saw a father who had watched his daughter triumph over death itself, only to lose her to senseless violence.She saw herself in those dark days when she thought she would never see Paige grow up.The parallel struck her with almost physical force – the same fear, the same desperate love, but twisted by circumstance into something monstrous.
Instead of firing, Rachel pivoted smoothly to her right, her movements precise despite the adrenaline surging through her veins.Reynolds adjusted his trajectory to follow, exactly as she'd anticipated.She extended her leg at just the right moment, using his own momentum against him.As he stumbled over her leg, she drove her elbow down between his shoulder blades, sending him crashing to the floor.He let out a quick gasp of pain as he hit the floor with a force that knocked the wind from his lungs.The impact seemed to shake the entire room.
Novak was there in an instant, his knee pressing into Reynolds' back as they worked in practiced synchronization to secure the handcuffs.The metal clicked into place with a sound that seemed somehow final, like the period at the end of a tragic sentence.Reynolds continued to thrash and scream, but the sound had changed – the rage giving way to raw grief, each cry seeming to tear itself from the depths of his soul.The sound echoed off the walls, mixing with the steady drumbeat of rain outside.This was not the cry of a madman, but a man who had lost everything and simply didn’t give a damn about much of anything anymore.
With Reynolds secured, Rachel rushed to where Shook lay gasping on the floor.His pulse fluttered weakly beneath her fingers as she checked his carotid artery, his breathing ragged and labored.Angry red marks were already darkening into bruises around his throat, telling the story of how close he'd come to death.She could feel the rapid flutter of his pulse beneath her fingers, each beat a reminder of how precious and precarious life could be.If they’d been even another thirty second later, Shook may very well be dead right now.
Maybe it’s another one of those so-called miracles Linda Reynolds seems to be so against,she thought darkly.
"David, I need you to stay with me," Rachel said, keeping her voice steady and calm despite the urgency of the situation.She pulled out her phone, fingers flying over the keypad as she called for emergency medical support."Help is on the way.Just focus on taking slow, steady breaths."She kept one hand on his shoulder, providing an anchor of human contact in the chaos.
Through it all, Reynolds' sobs continued to fill the room, punctuated by broken whispers of a name: "Emma...Emma..."Each utterance struck Rachel like a physical blow, forcing her to acknowledge the tragedy that had birthed this horror.She thought of Paige, of how close she had come to leaving her daughter motherless.She thought of Emma Reynolds, who had fought so hard to live, only to have that victory stolen in the cruelest way possible.The weight of these parallel tragedies seemed to press down on her, making the air thick and heavy.
