Sarah sighed with satisfaction at the trap she had set.
“But you, Olga—you’re the culmination.The final, most important lesson.”She knelt beside the chair where Olga strained against her bonds, her eyes wide with terror above the gag.“With you, I’ll create a scenario where even Riley Paige, with all her insight and intuition, will face an impossible choice.A true finger trap where every action leads to disaster.”
Tears streamed down Olga’s face as Sarah continued in her eerily calm voice.“You found peace through creating order from chaos.I’m giving you a chance to create meaning with your death.To be part of something greater than yourself.”
Sarah paused to let her words sink in.She wanted Olga to fully understand her intentions before the end.
“I’ve left a trail for Agent Paige to follow.She knows who I am now.She understands why I’ve done all this.”Sarah’s voice took on an almost reverent quality.“And soon, I’m going to put her in the same position I was in ten years ago—forced to choose between procedure and justice, between what’s right by the book and what’s right in reality.”
She leaned forward to brush away Olga’s tears, a tenderness at odds with the horror of their situation.“Don’t be frightened.Your death will have meaning, I promise you that.Together, we’re going to teach Riley Paige the lesson of a lifetime.”
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Riley pushed the car harder than she should have through the congested streets of DC.Every second counted now—somewhere ahead, Sarah Mitchell was orchestrating her final demonstration, her final lesson in impossible choices.Sitting in the passenger seat, Ann Marie worked at her computer tablet.
“Anything?”Riley asked.
Ann Marie shook her head in frustration.“I’m in the Bureau’s personnel database now.Sarah Mitchell’s file is extensive but outdated.Outstanding evaluations for her first seven years with the Bureau.Commendations for attention to detail.Notes from supervisors praising her methodical approach to evidence collection.”
“Until the Bishop case,” Riley said, navigating a sharp turn that took them deeper into the industrial district.
“Yes.Then everything changes.”Ann Marie continued reading, her voice taking on a more clinical tone.“Official reprimand.Internal affairs investigation.Admission of evidence tampering.Termination effective immediately.”She looked up from the tablet.“There’s nothing after that.No forwarding address, no follow-up interviews.She simply vanishes from the system.”
Riley considered the fragments of information they’d learned so far.Sarah Mitchell had once been like them—dedicated, principled, committed to justice.Until a moment’s decision trapped her in an ethical paradox from which there had been no escape.
“What about known associates?Family?Anyone she might have stayed in contact with?”
Ann Marie tapped rapidly across the screen.“Parents deceased before she joined the Bureau.No siblings listed.A few names under emergency contacts, but.… Nothing current.I’m checking address histories now.”
They entered the industrial zone—a landscape of warehouses and manufacturing facilities.
“Last known address was in Arlington, Virginia.”Ann Marie swiped to another screen.“I’m cross-referencing the name Sarah Mitchell with property records, utility accounts, and driver’s licenses in the greater DC area.”
“And?”Riley prompted, sensing the younger agent’s hesitation.
“Three hundred and forty-two results,” Ann Marie replied “A pretty common name.Without more parameters to narrow it down, we’d need days to check each one.”
Riley shook her head, taking a turn onto a narrower street lined with chain-link fences topped with rusted barbed wire.“She won’t be using her real name anymore.Not after what happened.”
“I’ve tried searching for Fawn Waller too,” Ann Marie said, “but it’s clearly an alias.There are no records matching that name with any government agencies or utility companies.”
The GPS directed them to take another turn.Riley followed the instruction mechanically, her thoughts focused on Sarah Mitchell—not the disgraced former evidence technician from FBI records, but the calculating killer who had orchestrated three carefully staged murders.
“She’s been planning this for years,” Riley said, thinking out loud.“Living under various identities, watching from a distance, perfecting her methodology.”She paused, processing what they knew.“Elaine said she was brilliant.”
Ann Marie returned to her tablet.After a moment, her breath caught.“Here’s a possible trigger.Three weeks ago, the Virginia Supreme Court denied Aaron Bishop’s final appeal.His execution is scheduled for October 15th.”
“That’s it,” Riley said.“Sarah’s making a final act of justice before Bishop pays for his crimes.”
“And she’s targeting women who represent what she lost.”Ann Marie muttered.
“Control of their reality.”
They were close now.Red and blue lights pulsed in the distance—police cars already on scene.The warehouse came into view—a hulking structure of corrugated metal and concrete, its windows long since shattered or boarded over.Police vehicles surrounded the entrance.
Riley parked beside Brookman’s unmarked sedan.She knew that whatever Sarah Mitchell had planned, it wouldn’t be simple, and it wouldn’t be easy.The woman had spent a decade living with the consequences of one difficult choice.Now she was determined to make them face the same kind of situation.
As Riley stepped from the car, police officers were moving around the warehouse perimeter, their voices low and tense.Ann Marie fell into step beside her as they approached the warehouse entrance where a uniformed officer stood guard.He nodded at their credentials, his face grim as he lifted the yellow crime scene tape for them to duck under.
