Page 29 of Her Last Promise (Rachel Gift #19)

A warm and familiar voice settled in like a blanket over Rachel’s sleep. For just a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming. "Mom?"

She didn't want to open her eyes. Her body felt heavy, weighted down by exhaustion that seemed to seep into her bones. Last night had been a whirlwind. The memories were there, lurking just beneath the surface of her drowsy mind.

"Mom?" Paige's voice came again, closer this time. "I know you're awake. I can see your eyes moving under your lids."

Rachel couldn't help but smile, even as she kept her eyes closed. "Since when did you become such an expert in sleep patterns?"

"I’m a master at faking sleep. Want to hear how many times I faked it only to get back to reading after you checked on me?"

“I’d rather not, thanks,” Rachel said in a groggy voice.

Finally opening her eyes, Rachel found her daughter sitting there in her winter coat, backpack slung over one shoulder. The sight brought back a flood of memories from the night before – getting home at 11:45, exhausted beyond words. She'd barely managed to shower before collapsing into bed. Jack had been awake enough to kiss her cheek when she'd crawled in beside him, but that was all she remembered before sleep claimed her.

"I told Jack we shouldn't wake you," Paige said, fidgeting with the zipper of her coat. "But he insisted I say goodbye before we leave. He also said to tell you there are some pancakes left in the microwave for you."

Rachel pushed herself up to sitting position, noting the gray light filtering through the curtains. "What time is it?"

"Seven-thirty." Paige's expression brightened. "Did you hear the sleet last night? I was hoping they'd cancel school, but apparently a little ice isn't enough to shut down the district anymore."

"You only have three more school days until Christmas break," Rachel reminded her, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind Paige's ear. Her daughter didn't pull away from the touch like she might have a few weeks ago, and Rachel's heart warmed at the small victory. And she reminded herself that Paige was nearly a teenager now. The attitude shifts were not only normal, but they’d probably get worse.

"Three days too many," Paige groaned, but there was a hint of a smile playing at her lips.

"Oh, you’ll live." Rachel held out her arms. "Now come here and give me a proper goodbye hug."

For a moment, Rachel thought Paige might resist – pre-teens could be so unpredictable about physical affection – but her daughter leaned in, wrapping her arms around Rachel's neck. The familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo brought back memories of when Paige was smaller, when goodbye hugs were a given rather than a gift.

"Love you, Mom," Paige murmured against her shoulder.

"Love you too, sweetheart." Rachel squeezed her tight for just a moment longer before letting go. "Have a good day at school."

As Paige's footsteps retreated down the hallway, Jack's voice called up from below. "Bye! Love you!"

"Love you too!" Rachel called back, listening as the front door opened and closed, followed by the sound of two car doors slamming and an engine starting up.

She flopped back against her pillows, knowing she should try to get more sleep but already feeling too awake. The events of the previous night began creeping back into her consciousness – the confrontation, the revelations about Michael Mitchell, the desperate race against time that had thankfully ended with two lives saved. But the paperwork... God, the paperwork was going to be a nightmare.

With a sigh, Rachel swung her legs over the side of the bed. The hardwood floor was cold beneath her feet as she padded to the bathroom, splashing water on her face and studying her reflection in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes weren't as bad as she'd expected, but there was a weariness in her face that makeup couldn't hide.

Dressed in comfortable slacks and a sweater, she made her way downstairs. The house was quiet now, peaceful in the way it only got when she had it to herself. The coffee maker was still warm – bless Jack for leaving it on – and she poured herself a cup before retrieving the promised pancakes from the microwave.

The first bite reminded her that she hadn't eaten since... when? Lunch yesterday? The pancakes were good, even reheated, topped with butter and the real maple syrup that Jack insisted on buying even though it cost three times as much as the artificial stuff. As she ate silently by herself, her thoughts drifted to Novak. She needed to check on him, make sure he was doing okay after everything that had happened. He'd handled himself well during the entire case and had seemed fine at the hospital last night, but she knew from experience how the aftermath of intense situations could hit hard.

She should start on her report too. The Mitchell case would require careful documentation, especially given how close they'd come to losing both Jennifer Martinez and James Harrison. And she supposed the lawsuit between Nathan and the hospital would come into play at some point, too.

The sharp ring of her cell phone cut through her thoughts. She walked to the kitchen bar where she'd left it, fully expecting it to be Jack or Paige. But she frowned when she saw Director Anderson's name on the caller display. More questions about last night, probably. She'd expected them, but not quite this early. Anderson was usually very good about giving his agents a moment to rest.

"This is Gift," she answered, taking another sip of coffee.

The gravity in Anderson's voice immediately set her on edge. "Rachel, Are you at home?"

Oh God, she thought. He called me by my first name, her entire body seemed to go on high alert at this simple fact.

"Yes, sir, I’m home." The coffee cup found its way to the counter as she straightened, every instinct suddenly alert. “What is it?”

As was always the case with Anderson, there was no beating around the bush. He got straight to the matter at hand. And when he did, Rachel felt the air in her house get sucked out, the pressure of the moment pushing down on her.

"Ten minutes ago, the bureau got a call for an assist at Goodrich Hospice." He paused. "That's the hospice center you volunteer at, right?"

The world seemed to tilt slightly. "Yes, it is." Her voice sounded distant to her own ears. She thought of Scarlett, of the time they’d spent together during her treatments and rehabilitation. She thought of Scarlett’s dead body... and Cody Austin. "What is it? What's the assist for?"

The silence that followed lasted only a heartbeat, but it felt like an eternity. When Anderson spoke again, each word fell like a stone into the pit of her stomach.

"It's a bomb threat. And from what we can tell, it's legitimate."

She sprang into action without even thinking about it. The coffee cup crashed to the floor as Rachel grabbed her keys from the hook by the door, but she barely heard it shatter. Her mind was already racing ahead – to the staff she knew by name, to the patients who couldn't be quickly evacuated, to the countless ways this situation could end in tragedy.

She didn't bother with goodbye. She hung up on Anderson without asking a single question. She left her house so quickly that she nearly forgot to put her shoes on. The door slammed behind her as she ran for her car, the morning's peaceful domesticity shattered like the forgotten cup on her kitchen floor.

A bomb threat. The hospice center.

Her heart and gut told her that Cody Austin was at the center of this. And it also told her that the morning was going to start with chaos and death. And she was going to do everything she could to stop that from happening.