She got in her car and sat there for a moment before starting the engine. Through her windshield, she could see Rachel's house with its police tape and official vehicles. She could see neighbors talking in small groups, their faces worried and scared.
Kate started the car and drove home, back to the house where her son was waiting. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was driving away from something unfinished. Something that would pull her back in whether she wanted it to or not.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kate followed Sloane through the field office to her cubicle, a compact space with gray fabric walls and a desk that held two monitors, a keyboard, and very little else. It was plain and stark; there were no photos, no personal items, just a coffee mug with the FBI seal on it and a small potted succulent.
"Sorry about the tight quarters," Sloane said, gesturing to the single extra chair wedged into the corner. "I haven't exactly personalized yet. And I imagine it’ll be ages before I get an actual office."
"It's fine." Kate pulled the chair closer to the desk so she could see the monitors. "I've worked in smaller spaces."
Sloane sat down and woke up her computer, then pulled up her email. "The Patricia Holmes files should be here by now, according to DeMarco.”
Kate couldn’t help but smile. She wondered if she’d ever get fully accustomed to people referring to DeMarco as someone in power. She knew it was strange for DeMarco and even though she certainly deserved it, Kate thought it might still take some getting used to.
Kate watched as Sloane scrolled through her inbox. There were dozens of unread messages, the kind of backlog that built up when you were in the field more than at your desk. Kate cringed internally when she saw the amount of unopened email waiting in the young agent’s inbox. Sloane found what she was looking for and opened the email, then downloaded the attached files.
"Got it," Sloane said. She opened the first document, a police report from three days ago. "Patricia Holmes, age fifty-three, found dead in her home office on the morning of October fifteenth."
Kate leaned forward slightly to read the screen along with Sloane. The report was thorough, with photographs attached and detailed notes from the responding officers. Patricia had been found by her sister, who had come over for their weekly tea date and let herself in when Patricia didn't answer the door.
"Same method," Kate said quietly. "Letter opener, single stab wound between the shoulder blades. Body found seated at her desk."
"Identical," Sloane agreed. She pulled up the crime scene photos, and Kate felt a familiar tightness in her chest. Patricia Holmes had dark hair streaked with gray, cut in a practical bob. She wore jeans and a cardigan, casual clothes for working from home. The letter opener protruded from her back at the same angle as Rachel's, driven in with precision.
Sloane scrolled through more of the report. "According to this, Patricia lived alone. Divorced, one adult daughter who lives in California. No signs of forced entry, no evidence of a struggle."
"What do we know about her background?" Kate asked.
Sloane opened another file, this time a collected batch of typed notes that appeared to be interview notes. “The police talked to her sister, several neighbors, and people from her church," Sloane said as she read through.” She read silently for a moment, then looked at Kate. "She left her corporate job six months ago."
Kate felt a spark of recognition. "What kind of job?"
"Marketing director for a pharmaceutical company. She'd been there for fifteen years." Sloane kept reading. "The sister says Patricia had been feeling burned out and unfulfilled. She wanted to do something more meaningful."
"And she started her own business?"
"As an independent life coach." Sloane pulled up another section of the report. "According to multiple people they interviewed, Patricia was using her own experience of getting anew lease on life to help others in similar situations. Her whole pitch was that it's never too late to start over or try something new."
Kate sat back in the chair, her mind processing this information. "Rachel Thornton just started her own business, too. James told me when we were at their house. She'd been an accountant for twenty years, but she decided to follow her passion and launch an interior design business." For a moment, she recalled the slight shock she’d felt when Sloane had bypassed James altogether—something she figured they needed to address at some point.
"How long ago?" Sloane asked.
"A few months, from what James said." Kate pulled out her phone and opened her notes from the conversation. "He said she was finally doing what she loved."
Sloane turned away from the monitors to face Kate directly. "So both victims were women in their fifties who recently left stable careers to start their own businesses."
"That's the connection," Kate said. "It has to be."
"But what does it mean?" Sloane turned back to the computer and pulled up Rachel's file alongside Patricia's, arranging the windows side by side on her monitors. "Why would someone target women for making career changes?"
Kate studied the two sets of files, looking for any other commonalities. Both women had been killed in their home offices during business hours. Both had been stabbed with letter openers that presumably belonged to them. Both had been positioned carefully at their desks, as if the killer wanted them found in that specific way.
"Maybe it's not about the career change itself," Kate said slowly. "Maybe it's about something else they had in common. A shared client, a business connection, something related to their new ventures."
"Patricia was a life coach," Sloane said. "Rachel was an interior designer. Those are pretty different fields."
"But they might have crossed paths through networking events or business groups. Women starting their own businesses often join support organizations, especially when they're making major career transitions."
