Page 35 of Her Last Warning
But as she looked at David Shook's battered form, and considered all of the other pain and horror Linda and Michael Reynolds had caused, she knew that understanding did not equal absolution.Sometimes pain created monsters, and those monsters had to be stopped, no matter how much sympathy their original tragedy might evoke.The world was full of people who had suffered losses, but few chose to transform their grief into a weapon against the innocent.
Outside, sirens began to wail in the distance, their sound mixing with the steady drumming of rain and the broken sounds of a father's grief.Rachel then figured they needed to call in Officer Nelson and his partner to let them know what had happened.All the while, she maintained gentle pressure on Shook's shoulder, simply letting him know he wasn’t alone with quiet words of encouragement, even as she thought of the mess that was to come next—a married couple on a trail of murder and ill-guided revenge was going to be wrapped easily in the aftermath of paperwork and interrogations.
The rain continued to fall outside, washing away their footprints from the walkway, while inside, the aftermath of violence slowly gave way to the ordered chaos of emergency response.Rachel caught Novak's eye across the room as he finished securing Reynolds, seeing in his expression the same grim determination she felt.She saw a bit of sadness in his eyes as well; the sounds of Michael Reynolds’s heartfelt cries were devastating even when they both knew what he’d done.
Thunder rolled overhead, as if nature itself was providing a soundtrack to the darkness that had descended upon them all.But in that darkness, Rachel stood firm, a guardian against the chaos that threatened to consume everything she held dear.She had faced death before – her own, and threats to those she loved – and she would face it again, for as long as necessary, until every monster was brought to justice or consigned to the grave.
As Nelson and his partner made their way inside, the sirens from other cars and hopefully the ambulance could be heard closing in.lights painting the rain-soaked streets in alternating red and blue, Rachel allowed herself a moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath.The air still carried the metallic tang of violence, a smell she wasn’t sure normal civilians would even notice.These details would be burned into her memory, joining countless others from similar scenes, each one a reminder of why she continued to fight.
Of why she had been so determined to come back to work after she had been given a second chance of her own.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
The hardwood floor beneath Rachel's knees had grown warm from her body heat as she maintained her vigil over David Shook.His chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm, each breath accompanied by a slight wheeze that made her wince.Purple bruises were already blooming across his neck like watercolors bleeding into paper, telling the story of how close he'd come to becoming the Reynolds' fourth victim.
"Stay with me, David," she murmured for what felt like the twentieth time, though she wasn't sure he could hear her.His eyelids fluttered occasionally, consciousness coming and going like a weak radio signal.Each time his eyes opened, they held the same confused panic, darting around the room before sliding shut again.Rachel was no medical examiner but she was quite sure his report would include things like partial crushing of the larynx, severe bruising to the trachea, and micro-fractures in the hyoid bone.She’d seen more than her fair share of similar attacks and knew how the playbook went.
Through the windows, red and blue lights began to strobe across the walls, casting strange shadows that made the crime scene feel somehow both more and less real.The lights caught the silver threads in Michael Reynolds' hair as he lay subdued under Novak's steady grip, no longer fighting but reduced to quiet sobs that seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him.
Nelson and his partner were checking the rest of the house, looking for any clues or indicators that might help to provide further evidence to nail the Reynolds’…not that anything else would really be needed.Even if Michael turned out to be difficult, Linda had seemed more than happy to admit to their crimes back in the interrogation room.
The change in Reynolds was immediate when the sound of approaching ambulance sirens penetrated the house.His head lifted slightly from the floor, eyes suddenly alert despite the tears that continued to track down his face."Is Linda okay?"The question came out raw, desperate."Will you...will you take me to Linda?"
Rachel felt something twist inside her chest.The evil this man and his wife had perpetrated was undeniable – three lives snuffed out in some twisted attempt to balance the cosmic scales.And yet...She knew the peculiar madness of loss, how it could reshape a person's entire world until they barely recognized themselves.The Reynolds’ had watched their daughter Emma pulled back from the brink of death by medical miracle, only to lose her to random violence hours later.Rachel could trace the crooked line from that moment to this one, could see how grief might curdle into something darker than darkness itself.
"Please," Reynolds whispered, his voice cracking."She's all I have left.She's all I—" His words dissolved into fresh tears.
To her horror, Rachel felt tears pressing against the backs of her eyes.Not here,she thought fiercely.Not now.FBI agents didn't cry at crime scenes.She blinked hard, focusing on the sound of car doors slamming outside.She thought of Paige, safe at home, probably sprawled on her bed doing homework or texting friends.Maybe watching TV with Jack by now.How many times had Rachel come close to leaving her daughter motherless?How many times had fate rolled the dice and somehow come up in her favor?
The front door opened with a creak that seemed thunderous in the tension-filled house; it hadn’t been shutting normally ever since Novak had kicked it in.Two officers entered – a tall male officer with salt-and-pepper hair and a shorter female officer whose movements spoke of years of experience.They swept the room with practiced efficiency, taking in Novak restraining Reynolds, Rachel kneeling beside the semi-conscious victim, the signs of struggle evident in the overturned furniture.
"Officers Martinez and Reeves," the female officer announced, moving toward Rachel and Shook."Ambulance is right behind us.Saw them turning onto Park as we came up."Her voice was steady, professional, but held an undercurrent of gentleness that made Rachel's throat tighten further.
Officer Reeves moved to assist Novak with Reynolds."You want to tell me what happened here, sir?"he asked, though it was clear from his tone he already had a good idea.He was simply trying to find what he could do to help.
Reynolds just shook his head, still crying."Emma," he whispered."My Emma."
In the distance, the wail of the ambulance grew louder, a countdown to the moment when this case would pass from their hands to others'.Rachel watched Shook's face twitch at the sound.His eyes opened again, clearer this time.
"You're safe now," Rachel told him softly."Help is here."
His lips moved, trying to form words, but only a painful rasping sound emerged.Rachel placed a gentle hand on his shoulder."Don't try to talk,” Rachel told him.“Just focus on breathing."
She caught Martinez watching her with knowing eyes."We can take it from here if you need to move," the officer said quietly.Rachel nodded, suddenly desperate to escape the weight of that understanding gaze."Can you...?"She gestured to Shook, embarrassed by the slight tremor in her voice.“Sit with him for just a second, please?”
Martinez smoothly took her place beside the victim as Rachel pushed herself to her feet, her knees protesting the long minutes spent on the hard floor.She caught Novak's concerned glance as she headed for the hallway but couldn't bring herself to acknowledge it.The bathroom had to be this way – these older homes all followed similar layouts.
She found it at the end of the hall, a small powder room with pale blue walls.The face that looked back at her from the mirror above the sink was a stranger's: pale, drawn, with something wild lurking behind the eyes.A storm of emotion—too many conflicting, rampant feelings.Rachel gripped the edge of the sink and forced herself to take deep breaths.
It made sense that Director Anderson had assigned her this case.Who better to understand the miracle of unexpected survival than someone who had walked that path herself?But she hadn't anticipated how it would affect her, seeing these lives destroyed not by illness but by the inability to reconcile with fate's cruel randomness.
The Reynolds’ had lost their daughter twice – first to a diagnosis that proved false, then to violence that proved final.In their grief-warped minds, anyone who survived when Emma hadn't was an affront to the natural order of things.Rachel understood that kind of thinking all too well, remembered lying in her hospital bed during the worst days of her cancer treatment, wondering why some lived while others died, searching for patterns in chaos.
She thought of Peter, taken from her by Alex Lynch’s cruel vendetta.She thought of Grandma Tate, who died protecting Paige.How close had she come to following the same path as the Reynolds, letting grief twist her into something unrecognizable?There had been moments, in the depths of her illness and loss, when she'd felt that same rage at the unfairness of it all, that same desire to make sense of senseless tragedy.
But understanding didn't equal acceptance.The Reynolds’ had murdered three people – Marcy Connors, Robert Hayes, Michelle Lester – all of them just beginning to embrace their second chances at life.They'd tried to kill David Shook, whose only crime was surviving against the odds.Every victim had family who loved them, dreams they'd thought they'd finally get to pursue, futures that had been violently stolen.
From the hallway, she could hear the arrival of the ambulance, the controlled chaos of paramedics entering the scene."Through here," Martinez's voice directed."Partial strangulation, periods of consciousness and unconsciousness…."
