Page 21 of Her Last Warning
"I went to a few," she found herself saying."After my diagnosis.Couldn't stick with it though."
"Too raw?"
"Yeah."She smiled faintly."Easier to chase down killers than face your own mortality in a room full of strangers.Weird, isn’t it?"
"But you made it through."
"I did."Rachel's fingers unconsciously traced the spot where her tumor had been, remembering the headaches, the dizziness, the terror of those early days."Sometimes I wonder if I should have stayed.Might have helped someone else going through it."
"You help people every day," Novak pointed out."Just in a different way."
She smiled.It was very close to the same sentiment that Grandma Tate had shared with her from time to time when leaving work had become a reality.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the hum of the office around them fading into the background.Through the windows, Rachel could see clouds gathering, promising afternoon rain…that cold, bitter, January rain.She thought about all the people out there right now, sitting in circles in church basements and community centers, sharing their stories, their fears, their small victories.How many of them were like her, holding back, afraid to be vulnerable?How many were finding the strength to speak their truth?
She studied the list again, but this time with fresh eyes.Each group represented not just suffering, but hope.Community.The fundamental human need to connect, to share, to understand and be understood.She thought about Jack, about how their partnership had grown into something deeper precisely because they'd seen each other at their most vulnerable.About how Paige, despite her pre-teen attitude, still crawled into bed with her during thunderstorms, seeking that primal comfort of connection.
"It's fascinating, really," she mused."How we cope with trauma.Some people need to talk it out, need that connection.Others..."She thought of their victims, each one celebrating their second chance at life."Others just want to move forward, leave it all behind."
"Both valid approaches," Novak said."Though I'm guessing our killer wouldn't agree."
"No, they wouldn't."Rachel frowned, something tickling at the edge of her thoughts.The killer's methodology suddenly seemed more personal, more targeted.This wasn't just about punishing people who'd survived – it was about something deeper, something rooted in the very nature of support and connection."Wait a minute."
She pulled up their victims’ files, an idea taking shape."We've been looking at this all wrong.Instead of casting such a wide net, why don't we start with the victims themselves?See if any of them attended support groups before their recoveries.Maybe that's where the killer first found them."
Novak straightened, and she could see the moment he caught her train of thought."That could narrow things down considerably."
Rachel was already reaching for her phone, pulling up Millie Hayes's number.Her fingers trembled slightly – not from fear or anxiety, but from that familiar surge of adrenaline that came with a potential breakthrough.Millie answered on the third ring, her voice tired but composed.
"Mrs.Hayes?This is Agent Gift.I apologize for bothering you again, but I have a quick question about Robert."
"Of course."A pause, heavy with unspoken grief."Anything I can do to help."
"I’m curious…did Robert ever attend any support groups while he was dealing with his heart condition?Before the recovery?"
"No, though he considered it."Papers rustled in the background."He picked up some flyers from the hospital, but...well, Robert was always more comfortable handling things on his own.I nagged him about it for a bit, but it didn’t do much good."
Rachel thanked her and ended the call, already pulling up Michelle Lester's file.Her mind raced ahead, connecting dots, seeing patterns.She found the contact information for Lacey, the friend they'd interviewed at the crime scene, and dialed.No answer.
She was about to move on to Marcy Connors's file when her phone buzzed.Oddly enough, it was the number she’d just dialed…Lacey.
"This is Agent Gift," Rachel answered.
Lacey's voice was apologetic."Sorry I didn’t pick up.I usually don't answer unknown numbers, but with everything that's happened...I figured maybe it had something to do with Michelle."
"No apology necessary.I'm glad you called back, and itdoeshave to do with Michelle."Rachel sat up straighter."I’m wondering if she ever attends any support groups after her initial diagnosis."
"Oh, yes."Lacey's voice brightened with the memory."She was going to two, but one shut down because not enough people were showing up.But the other one…she really enjoyed it.I think it helped her a lot.”
“Was it a good number of people?”
“I’m not sure.I think so.I think I remember her saying there were a dozen or so.”
“Do you know where and when the meetings are held?”
“Yeah, for sure.I used to drive her sometimes.They met twice a week at the Goodwin Community Center.Wednesday and Friday mornings at ten."
Rachel's looked to her watch.9:22 AM.Friday morning.Her heart rate picked up, that familiar surge of anticipation coursing through her veins even stronger now.This could be it – the break they'd been waiting for.It was a bit of a reach, but she was willing to take anything as a positive at this point.
