Page 18

Rachel fought the urge to pace. After years of working homicide cases, she'd developed an almost visceral reaction to watching time slip away while a killer remained free. Each second that ticked by felt like another grain of sand through an hourglass, another moment someone else might die. And the odd, morbid nature of this case was making it so much worse.

"One pod," Diana repeated, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "One peaceful passage pod unaccounted for." She pushed herself back a bit more into the chair, as if hoping it might swallow her up and take her away from this conversation. "It was delivered to a small experimental hospice center in Woodbridge just two days ago."

Rachel's stomach clenched. Hospice centers had, after all, become quite near and dear to her heart. Over the past year or so. It made the entire ordeal feel more personal. She glanced at Novak, who stood with his back to one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, his frame silhouetted against the afternoon light.

A young employee hurried past them, heels clicking against the polished floor, the sound emphasizing the gravity of their conversation. Rachel shifted her weight, positioning herself to block the woman's view of Diana's increasingly distressed face. The contrast between the lobby's serene atmosphere and the darkness of their discussion felt almost obscene.

"And the staff?" Novak pressed, his voice pitched low to avoid carrying across the lobby. "No one has contacted you back?”

Diana shook her head, her perfectly styled hair catching the light. "We've tried everything. Calls, emails, texts – three different people are responsible for that pod on-site. Not one of them has responded." She sighed and stared out into the morning through the massive windows. "It's not like them. These are dedicated healthcare professionals. They understand the importance of maintaining contact."

Rachel felt the familiar pull, that nagging instinct that told her to get in the car and drive the four hours to Woodbridge right now—to hunt down that missing pod. But experience had taught her that sometimes the most valuable information came from staying put, from pressing just a little harder where you already stood. She'd learned that lesson the hard way, through years of cases where rushing in had meant missing crucial details.

She studied Diana's face, noting the shadows under her eyes poorly concealed by expensive makeup. The CEO's polished demeanor was cracking, revealing the worried woman beneath. Small lines around her mouth betrayed nights of lost sleep, of wrestling with the knowledge that her company's creation had been perverted into something monstrous.

"Ms. Tatum," Rachel said, choosing her words carefully, "during our investigation, we spoke with Dr. Marcus Kent." She paused, watching for any reaction. "He had some rather strong opinions about EndLight's safety protocols. Strong enough to get him fired, from what we understand."

Diana also apparently had issues standing still when she was anxious; she stood from the chair less than two minutes after taking it and began to pace slowly. She smoothed her skirt with trembling hands, a nervous gesture that reminded Rachel of Paige when she was trying to hide something.

"Dr. Kent," Diana said slowly, "was instrumental in developing our existing safety protocols. But he... he became fixated on implementing measures that would have required a complete overhaul of our control panels." She began to pace, her heels marking a steady rhythm on the polished floor. "We tried to work with him, to find compromises, but he wouldn't hear of it."

Novak stepped away from the window, moving closer to their small group. His shadow stretched across the floor, distorted by the angle of the sun. "Was he ever concerned about replication? About someone copying the technology?"

The color drained from Diana's face as she slowly began to nod. "Yes, actually. He became obsessed with it." She glanced around the lobby, as if afraid there might be someone hiding in plain sight, listening in. "We brought in outside experts – three different firms we chose, plus one Kent selected himself. All four reached the same conclusion: the pods were safe and functional as designed."

A security guard passed by, nodding respectfully to Diana. Rachel noticed how the CEO's shoulders tensed until he was out of earshot. The woman's eyes followed him across the lobby, and Rachel wondered what secrets she was still holding back.

"But you had to let him go," Rachel prompted, stepping closer to maintain their bubble of privacy.

"He just wouldn't let it go," Diana confirmed, resuming her pacing. Each turn was precise, mechanical, like she was trying to maintain control through sheer force of will. "And then, when we terminated his contract, we discovered something else. He'd been working on an alternative design before he was terminated, one that we rejected. But he picked it back up and started spending company time and resources on it, without authorization."

"Why was his design rejected?" Rachel asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

"Too complex," Diana said, but something in her tone made Rachel's instincts prickle. There was more there, something unspoken. Rachel. Her hand rose to her throat, adjusting a necklace that wasn't there – another nervous tell.

"Ms. Tatum," Rachel said carefully, "would someone with Dr. Kent's knowledge be capable of overriding not just the location features, but all the safety protocols in the current design?"

Diana's face went ash-white. She clutched her tablet tighter, knuckles whitening. The device made a small creaking sound under the pressure. "Yes," she whispered. "That's been my fear since we learned about the first murder."

"From what we've seen on these fake pods, the controls are almost too simple," Novak said. "And there appears to be no failsafe at all."

“My God,” Diana said. “I can’t…I can’t even imagine who would do this.”

“Do you think Kent would be capable of it?”

Diana looked almost heartbroken when she answered. “Technically, from an engineering standpoint, yes. Without a doubt. But…even though we disagreed on a lot, I’d have a very hard time picturing him as a murderer.”

Rachel met Novak's eyes across the space between them. They'd already had Kent in their sights, had already been to his house. Now, the pieces were starting to align in a way that made Rachel's pulse quicken. A brilliant engineer, pushed out of his position, working on unauthorized designs. A man who knew the technology inside and out, who had been vocal about its vulnerabilities. Most importantly, a man with a grudge. She knew that Diana Tatum’s feelings that Kent would not be capable of murder may mean nothing. So often, killers hid perfectly in plain sight.

Rachel thought of the hospice center in Woodbridge, of the silence at the other end of Diana's calls and messages. How many more bodies would they find before this was over?

"Thank you for your honesty, Ms. Tatum," Rachel said, already mentally mapping their route to Kent's house. It would be several hours, but it was a drive they had to take. "If we need anything else—"

"Please," Diana interrupted, reaching out to touch Rachel's arm. Her fingers were ice-cold. "Call me anytime. Day or night. I can't..." she swallowed hard. "I can't bear the thought of another death. Not when we created these pods to help people, to give them peace."

At that moment, Diana's cell phone rang. She jumped a bit and then reached into the pocket of her slacks to pull it out. "It's the Woodbridge facility," she said in a whisper. Rachel noticed that her hands were trembling as she answered the call.

“Hello?...yes. We’ve been calling all of the facilities with a pod. The location setting on the one you have is…yes. What? What? And no one bothered to tell me?”

Rachel watched as a huge range of emotion played out on Diana’s face. Horror, anger, sadness, worry. She nearly asked her to put the call on speaker mode, but she could tell it was already winding down.

"That is absolutely unacceptable in so many ways!" Diana nearly screamed into the phone. "Yes, well, I don't care. I want every single bit of information you have on that shipping manifesto…right down to the driver's name. Do you understand?"

There was a moment of pause as Rachel assumed, the person on the other end stammered out an apology or confirmation. And then Diana ended the call and looked to both of them. She was still trembling and her face still looked as if it was having a very difficult time deciding on an emotion.

“That was the vice-president of the facility,” she said. “She says the truck delivering their pod was supposed to show up yesterday at around three in the afternoon. But not only did it ever show up, but because it was a Saturday no one even made an effort to report it! So we’ve got a pod floating around out there…and…and…Christ, this is a mess.”

“But I heard you request the shopping manifest and related information,” Rachel said. “That was a smart move.”

“I swear to you both…this is incredibly strange. We run a very tight ship around here and…and I just don’t know what the hell is happening right now.”

“We don’t fault you in any way,” Rachel assured her. “For now, Agent Novak and I need to take a rather long drive and have another word with Marcus Kent. But please…as soon as you get information about that shipping manifest or any news about the location of that pod, please contact me.”

She handed Diana one of her business cards from her inner jacket pocket. Diana took it, though she barely looked at it. The woman looked tired, baffled, and as if she could literally step outside and set the world on fire with her anger.

Novak was already moving toward the entrance, his stride purposeful. Rachel nodded to Diana as a means of goodbye and turned to follow him, their footsteps echoing in the vast space. Novak opened the door, holding it for her again.

“Looks like another Sunday drive,” he muttered under his breath as they made their way to their car.

“You need me to drive?” she asked.

He grinned and said, “You know what? Yeah. You can drive.”

They got into the car, and as soon as Rachel started the engine, she realized that she was glad to be behind the wheel. It was a very small way to help her feel as if she was at least in some kind of control.

As they pulled away from EndLight's gleaming headquarters, Rachel watched it shrink in the side mirror. The building's white exterior reflected the setting sun like a beacon, or perhaps a warning. Beside her, Novak was sitting rather uncomfortably in his seat as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do if he wasn’t behind the wheel.

They had a nearly four-hour drive ahead of them to Kent's house, four hours for a killer to act. She just hoped they weren't already too late. With the knowledge of a confirmed missing pod and a killer who had apparently learned to create similar ones, the case felt far more sinister and unpredictable now.