Page 5 of Her Last Escape

"Damn it, I just know." She sighed, hating the childish way it made her sound. “The timing…”

"The timing could be coincidental," Jack said gently, though he studied the dates on her phone. "You know how this works, Rachel. We can't build cases on intuition alone."

"This isn't just intuition." She pushed her plate aside, untouched eggs cooling. "Austin spent ten years in prison because of me. Ten years when he should have been in for life if we'd been able to prove everything he did. He's smart enough to know a direct attack wouldn't work. So he's doing what he does best—he's playing mind games. First Scarlett, then the bombing. He's sending a message that nowhere is safe…that anything I am close to, he can take. It feels like…”

“Say it.”

“It feels like Alex Lynch all over again.”

“Exactly. You’re letting that trauma work its way into your life all over again. You’re just seeing things that aren’t there.”

She could hear the intensity rising in her own voice and knew she was starting to sound obsessed. But she couldn't stop. "Think about it, Jack. If it’s not Austin…and if these two awful events aren’t at all related, that’s one hell of a coincidence.”

Jack rubbed his temple, a gesture she recognized from countless late-night discussions. "Look, I understand why you're making these connections. The bombing happening at your hospice center—I get why that feels personal. But if you take this to Anderson without solid evidence—"

"He'll shut it down. I know." Frustration tightened her throat. "But what if I'm right? What if we miss this and more people die? Austin was clever enough to avoid murder charges before. Who's to say he isn't being just as careful now? He had ten years in prison to plan this, Jack. Ten years to think about revenge."

“Rachel…four people were killed, including a member of the bomb squad. There’s an enormous team on this. If it is Austin, they’ll find out. And I’m sure Anderson will let you know.”

The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken words. She opened her mouth to break the silence, but Rachel's phone buzzed. The screen lit up with Anderson's name. Her stomach clenched. For a wild moment, she wondered if he somehow knew what she'd been discussing. But when she answered, his voice was casual, matter-of-fact.

“Gift, I have a case I’d like you and Novak to tackle.”

“Of course. What do you have?” she asked.

"I need you two on a case near Charlottesville. Looks like it could be a serial in the making. Not sure yet."

"Sir, but what about the meeting about the bombing surveillance—"

“You can miss it. Besides, if we boil it all down, there are no new updates there. And before you go there, yes…I know that case is close to you. So when we do know something new, I’ll make sure you know.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, but the disappointment was thick in her voice.

"Besides,” Anderson said. “I think it would do you good to focus on something else for a while."

The implication hung in the air: stop obsessing over the bombing. Stop looking for connections that might not exist. Rachel's free hand clenched into a fist under the table, nails biting into her palm.

"Yes, sir," she said, keeping her voice neutral. "I'll head out now."

She ended the call, meeting Jack's concerned gaze. "I have to go."

"I heard." He stood, gathering his things. The morning light caught his wedding ring as he reached for his jacket. "Want me to tell Paige—"

"Tell her I said have a good day, and I love her." The words felt inadequate, routine, but they were all she had time for now. "It's in Charlottesville, so if it goes beyond a day, I have no idea if I'll be coming back home or grabbing a hotel."

“We’ll be fine. Just stay in touch.” He got up and kissed her, drawing her in for a quick hug. “And be safe.”

“Aren’t I always?”

He sneered at her, but it broke apart in a small laugh. They moved around each other in the kitchen's morning light, a dance that should have been familiar but now felt off-step. As Rachel gathered her keys and badge, she felt the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on her. Jack's skepticism. Anderson's dismissal. Her own certainty, burning like an ember in her chest.

At the door, she paused. Part of her wanted to turn back, to make one last attempt at convincing Jack. But what would be the point? Without evidence, she was just spinning theories. And yet...

The morning air hit her face as she stepped outside, carrying a razor-like January chill. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. There was a case waiting in Charlottesville. People who needed her focus, her expertise. She couldn't let Austin—or her suspicions about him—distract her from that.

But as she slid behind the wheel, the heavy certainty of it hit her again…that somewhere out there, Cody Austin was watching, waiting, and planning his next move in a game only he fully understood.

CHAPTER FOUR

---