Her Last Wish (A Rachel Gift FBI Suspense Thriller—Book 1)
Page 19
When her cellphone rang, she flinched. It scared her way too much. But as much as it scared her, it also provided an immense sense of relief. Saved by the bell, she thought dryly. Even then, though, she almost chose not to answer it. She had no idea when she might have the courage to get this out into the open again. She was so close to telling him—to getting this massive weight off of her shoulders.
But the FBI training kicked in hard and she had to at least check the caller display. When she took the phone out of her pocket and checked the display, she saw a name she hadn’t seen on her phone in a while.
“That’s weird,” she said.
“What?” Peter asked, clearly a little irritated form having their kiss broken.
“It’s Grandma Tate.”
It even seemed odd to Peter—as it should. Grandma Tate was Rachel’s grandmother on her mother’s side. She lived in Aiken, South Carolina and over the last few years they’d only seen one another on either Thanksgiving or Christmas. She’d never felt close as far as Rachel was concerned, but whenever they did get together, there was an undeniable connection between them. When Rachel’s mother had passed away, it had been Grandma Tate that had stepped in as best as she could to help Rachel’s father raise her.
“It’s a little early to start planning for Thanksgiving, isn’t it?” Peter asked.
Rachel though so, too. And that’s why she couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous when she finally answered the phone on the fourth ring. “Hello?”
“Rachel! Hello, dear. How are you?”
“Hey there, Grandma,” she said. She hated how southern she sounded when she said it. The rural Virginia of her childhood tended to creep out on certain words, and “grandma” was among the worst offenders.
“It’s always so nice to hear your voice,” Grandma Tate said. “And I know it’s a bit late…too late to talk to precious little Paige, I assume?”
“Yes, I’m sorry. She’s already down for bed.”
“Ah, yeah, I figured. And how are you? How’s work and all?”
“I’m doing pretty good,” she said. Again, she was amazed with how easy the lie came. It was almost as if she was starting to convince herself that she’d never even gone to the doctor—that there wasn’t a life-ending tumor residing in her head. “Same old, same old. You know how it goes.”
She also hated that every conversation she ever had with Grandma Tate on the phone usually boiled down to generic one-liners and non-detailed answers. “How about you?” Rachel asked. “It’s not often you make a phone call.”
There was a sigh in Grandma Tate’s voice when she said, “Yeah, yeah, I know. I actually called to speak to you, as you might have already figured out. I hate to be so vague, but I’d really like to meet with you in person, if possible. I can come there, or we can meet in the middle. Whatever you’d like.”
“Is everything okay?”
“I believe so, yes. But there are some things I need to discuss with you and it’s not the sort of thing I want to talk about on the phone.”
Rachel felt a stirring of worry rise up on her…worry that was replaced by a strange sort of annoyance. “Well, that’s just a little cryptic,” Rachel said. “But, sure…I suppose we can make that happen. When were you thinking?”
“You let me know, sweetie. I can tell you that the next week or so is not good for me. But I know how busy your job keeps you, so I wanted to make sure I allowed enough time.”
“So let’s shoot for the week after that,” Rachel said. “I’ll take a few days off and come down to visit you.”
“Are you sure?”
The vague nature of Grandma Tate’s news made her uneasy and no, she was not sure, but she felt it was something she needed to do. “Yeah, I’ll make a tiny vacation out of it.” She hesitated here, almost afraid to ask the question that rose to her tongue. “Should it just be me?”
There was a hint if sadness in her grandmother’s voice when she answered and that was all it took for Rachel to feel quite certain that something was wrong. “Oh, as much as I would love to smother Paige with hugs and kisses, I really do think it should just be the two of us. Is that okay?”
“That’s perfectly fine. Let me take a look at my schedule tomorrow and I’ll call you back with a few days to choose from by the end of this week. That sound good?”
“Sounds great. Thanks so much, Rachel.”
“You’ve got me worried, Grandma. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine.”
But Rachel doubted that. In fact, she heard something very familiar in those four words. And she could recognize it easily, because she’d been telling the same lie for the last several days.
She said her goodbyes and ended the call, looking blankly at the phone for a moment.
“Everything okay?” Peter asked, his tone indicating that he had also picked up on something fishy from the conversation.
“I don’t know. She wants me to come visit her because she says there’s something she wants to talk about, face-to-face.”
“That…well, that doesn’t sound good,” Peter said.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Rachel stood up and went into the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of white wine and as she took the first sip, she saw Paige’s calendar on the bar. So many little squares, some filled in with her small handwriting. Each square was a day, piling on to the backs of others, forever and ever.
Not yours, though, she thought. How many of those boxes do you think you have left?
She looked to the latest box Paige had filled in, a birthday party a friend had invited her to this weekend. Rachel ran her hands over her daughter’s handwriting and began to weep. And when the faintest of little white flashes seemed to fill her head for the space of two seconds and then disappear, it took everything within her not to throw her glass of wine across the kitchen and fall to the floor in an inconsolable heap.
She sipped from her wine and thought of something Alex Lynch had told her when she’d visited him.
“What’s it like? Being that close to…to death?” she’d asked him.
“Intimate, but in a very polarizing way. For me, it’s being right there on the edge of it…knowing that one day I, too, will be on that edge, looking out the other way.”
She wondered what that view would be like? Some fabled Heaven with golden streets? A tunnel of light to take her to some other life beyond the veil of this one? Or maybe just darkness, thick and never-ending…a long, unyielding sleep.
She thought of Alex Lynch as she held her wine, thinking of her Grandma Tate and her own little calendar boxes of days, checked off one square at time.
EPILOGUE
Four days later, on an overcast Monday, Rachel told Peter she was heading to work like any other Monday morning. What she did not tell him was that she’d already emailed Director Anderson and asked for the morning off. Anderson had, in turn, given her the entire day, suggesting she could use a few days after the way the case had closed in Baltimore. While the cut on her arm was healing nicely, it was still requiring bandages and was itching like crazy.
Rather than driving to work (and piling on another lie she’d been telling Peter as of late), Rachel drove to Arlington. When she parked in the visitor lot of Arlington County Jail, she felt as if no time at all had passed since the last time she was here—a visit that had also been covered with a lie to Jack.
She did not allow herself time to simply sit there and stare at the building, asking herself why the hell she was back here. Instead, she got out right away. She checked in with the same person she’d checked in with before and was escorted to the eleventh floor by a beefy-looking guard who looked to have maybe had a little too much fun over the weekend and had not yet recovered.
This time, she arrived in the small meeting room first. As she sat there and waited for a guard to deliver Alex Lynch to the room, she found her thoughts turning back to Grandma Tate. Rachel did not try to fool herself; she missed the
woman terribly sometimes and it pained her heart when she realized that there was much about her childhood spent with Grandma Tate that she couldn’t remember. To think she might be in some sort of trouble was scary and with every day that passed, the more Rachel did not want to make that trip down to South Carolina. Aside from her own parents, she’d not dealt with death a great deal. She’d heard how FBI agents and other law enforcement agents sometimes started to get desensitized to death if they dealt in violent cases. She found that hard to believe as she thought about potentially losing Grandma Tate.
Stop it, she told herself. You don’t even know for certain that’s why she wants you to visit.
She was rather happy when the door opened, breaking apart those thoughts. If she focused on the Grandma Tate situation for too long, she’d convince herself that the worst possible scenario was correct and she’d obsess over it. So to her strange surprise, she was nearly relieved when the same beefy-looking guard escorted Alex Lynch into the room. The guard then looked to Rachel and said, “I’m right outside.”
He looked to Alex and said nothing, though his eyes seemed to say: Just give me a reason…
When the guard left them alone, Alex looked at Rachel intensely through his bifocals. He smiled and said, “Is your case closed now?”
“It is,” she said.
“And was our conversation of some help?”
She nodded, not wanting to inflate his ego but also figuring her mere presence here was showing her hand. “Yes, it helped. I’m still trying to process exactly how it helped, but it did.”
“So then why are you here? If it’s more of just wanting to get a peek inside my head to see how a killer ticks, I’m afraid I’m really not interested in that.”
“There’s a cold case I’ve been working off and on for the last two years,” she lied. “Three people killed in West Virginia in 1991. Brutal and just—”
“Do you have children, Agent Gift?” Alex interrupted.
A hundred different defenses raised up as she thought of Paige while in the presence of this man. “What business of it is yours?”
“I’ll assume that’s a yes. I ask because if I told you that I had this bratty, ill-mannered little asshole of a child that I simply could not get a handle on, would it be safe for me to assume you knew exactly what I was talking about because you have a child?”
“No, because my child is not a bratty, ill-mannered little asshole.”
“I figured not. She has a mother that is very dedicated to her job from what I can tell. I imagine your child is maybe a bit stubborn, though naïve. Maybe always seeking your approval. Maybe your child—”
“I did not come here to discuss my child with you,” Rachel growled.
Alex waved her comment away, clearly not caring. “All I’m saying is that you can’t paint a single picture of every child. The kid that eats crayons or bullies others is likely not a fair comparison to your own child. The same is true of people that have committed horrendous crimes. I have done some truly deplorable things…but I believe I am still maybe not quite as bad as, say, a Gacy or a Dahmer. Do I understand the things that broke in me that made me want to kill? Yes. But trying to use me as a template for whatever other monsters you’re trying to pick apart is not going to work. And quite frankly, it’s fucking insulting.”
It wasn’t nearly the reaction she’d been looking for and his gradual defensiveness was a surprise. She’d made the mistake of thinking he’d want to talk to her—that picking his brain for thoughts and motives on a cold case might make him feel important.
“I’m not going to be your inside man,” Alex said with a leering smile. “I’m not going to be your Cliffs Notes on how killers work, how we see death, how we—”
He stopped here and cocked his head, observing her like a curious animal might. There was something different in not only in his attitude, but his eyes It was as if a switch had been flicked and he was undergoing some sort of Jekyll and Hyde routine.
“What?” she snapped. The feeling that he was somehow studying her was unnerving.
“I thought I saw it when you were here last. Something…something in you. Something in your eyes. Remember? Something broken.”
She rolled her eyes, embarrassed that she’d made this foolish choice. She started to get to her feet, not at all interested in being Alex Lynch’s mental plaything.
“You’re dying.”
Alex spoke the words simply, but it had the effect of someone pulling a gun and shooting at her. She wheeled back around to him, expecting him to be smiling. Instead, there was an uncertain expression on his face. He nodded and added: “Aren’t you?”
She knew that she did not need to actually answer—that her silence was all the answer he needed. She also felt that her face had gone about ten shades of red.
“How?” he asked. “What is it?”
“Tumor. In my brain. Inoperable.”
She had no idea why she told him. Worse than that, she had no real idea why it felt almost freeing to say it.
“Let me guess. You’re keeping it a secret?”
“How,” she started to say, but it was suddenly very hard to breathe. “How do you know?”
“It’s in your eyes…in your posture. It was in your face when I said it. You were embarrassed…which makes me think no one else knows.” He finally smiled at her and when he did, his eyes looked like the hungry eyes of a snake as he looked at her through those thick glasses of his. “So now there’s just one question.”
“What?” she said. There was almost no volume to the word.
“What can you do for me to make sure I don’t tell anyone?”
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HER LAST CHANCE
(A Rachel Gift FBI Suspense Thriller —Book 2)
“A MASTERPIECE OF THRILLER AND MYSTERY. Blake Pierce did a magnificent job developing characters with a psychological side so well described that we feel inside their minds, follow their fears and cheer for their success. Full of twists, this book will keep you awake until the turn of the last page.”
--Books and Movie Reviews, Roberto Mattos (re Once Gone)
CITY OF FEAR (An Ava Gold Mystery—Book 2) is a new novel in a long-anticipated new series by #1 bestseller and USA Today bestselling author Blake Pierce, whose bestseller Once Gone (a free download) has received over 1,000 five star reviews.
In the rough streets of 1920s New York City, 34 year-old Ava Gold, a widower and single mom, claws her way up to become the first female homicide detective in her NYPD precinct. She is as tough as they come, and willing to hold her own in a man’s world.
When a 16-year-old girl from a wealthy Fifth Avenue family is found strangled, murdered on the eve of her society coming-out party, Ava, 1920s New York City’s best female homicide detective, is called in to find the killer. She quickly learns that psychosis is pervasive even amongst the glamour of high society’s wealthiest families.
Determined to find justice for the girl—and to stop the psychotic killer from killing again—Ava pries into the dangerous rings of powerful high society, finding herself threatened as she is singled out by a tycoon. Fighting for her job, trying to stop a killer, and finding herself in an unexpected romantic relationship, Ava finds herself in the battle of her life.
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HER LAST CHANCE
(A Rachel Gift FBI Suspense Thriller —Book 2)
Did you know that I've written multiple novels in the mystery genre? If you haven't read all my series, click the image below to download a series starter!
Blake Pierce
Blake Pierce is the USA Today bestselling author of the RILEY PAGE mystery series, which includes seventeen books.
Blake Pierce is also the author of the MACKENZIE WHITE mystery series, comprising fourteen books; of the AVERY BLACK mystery series, comprising six books; of the KERI LOCKE mystery series, comprising five books; of the MAKING OF RILEY PAIGE mystery series, comprising six books; of the KATE WISE mystery series, comprising seven books; of the CHLOE FINE psychological suspense mystery, comprising six books; of the JESSIE HUNT psychological suspense thriller series, comprising nineteen books; of the AU PAIR psychological suspense thriller series, comprising three books; of the ZOE PRIME mystery series, comprising six books; of the ADELE SHARP mystery series, comprising thirteen books; of the EUROPEAN VOYAGE cozy mystery series, comprising six books (and counting); of the new LAURA FROST FBI suspense thriller, comprising five books (and counting); of the new ELLA DARK FBI suspense thriller, comprising six books (and counting); of the A YEAR IN EUROPE cozy mystery series, comprising nine books (and counting); of the AVA GOLD mystery series, comprising three books (and counting); and of the RACHEL GIFT mystery series, comprising three books (and counting).
ONCE GONE (a Riley Paige Mystery--Book #1), BEFORE HE KILLS (A Mackenzie White Mystery—Book 1), CAUSE TO KILL (An Avery Black Mystery—Book 1), A TRACE OF DEATH (A Keri Locke Mystery—Book 1), WATCHING (The Making of Riley Paige—Book 1), NEXT DOOR (A Chloe Fine Psychological Suspense Mystery—Book 1), THE PERFECT WIFE (A Jessie Hunt Psychological Suspense Thriller—Book One), IF SHE KNEW (A Kate Wise Mystery—Book 1), and MURDER (AND BAKLAVA) (A European Voyage Cozy Mystery—Book 1) are each available as a free download on Amazon!
An avid reader and lifelong fan of the mystery and thriller genres, Blake loves to hear from you, so please feel free to visit www.blakepierceauthor.com to learn more and stay in touch.
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RACHEL GIFT MYSTERY SERIES