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"Is it?" Rachel challenged, her dark eyes unwavering. "You say you loved her, but did you ever hurt her, Jack?"
"Of course not!" Jack's voice rose sharply, his face contorting with anger. "I would never harm my wife."
"Then why are you so reluctant to discuss your relationship with us?" Ethan demanded, taking a step closer. "If there's nothing to hide, then there should be no reason for secrecy."
"Enough!" Jack barked, slamming a bloodied hand down onto the table, causing them all to flinch. "I've answered your questions, and I've cooperated with this investigation. But I've had enough. Get off my land! Now!"
"Jack," Rachel said, her voice calm but firm, "we're just trying to find the truth. If you have nothing to hide—"
"Leave!" Jack roared, his anger boiling over at last.
"I think you need to come with us," Ethan said, stepping forward.
Jack tensed, a growl in his throat. "You gonna make me?"
"I don't want to."
"Try. Go on.Try!"
Ethan began reaching for his gun. Jack moved first. There was a loud shout, then a gunshot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Rachel watched in horror, the gunshot resounding in the stillness of the mountain. Jack's knees buckled beneath him, and he crumpled to the garage floor, clutching his wounded shoulder. Blood seeped between his fingers, staining the cracked concrete beneath. Rachel could see the pained grimace etched on his face as he gasped for air.
Rachel's eyes darted around the darkened driveway, and her heart raced as her gaze fell upon the figure standing by the edge of the trees, illuminated by the dim light from the cabin. Tom Clark's face was a mask of white, his eyes bugging as if he couldn't quite believe what he'd just done.
"Tom?" Ethan breathed out in disbelief, his voice strained with urgency. He tightened his grip on his own weapon, trained at Tom's head.
"Put the gun down, Tom!" Rachel barked, her voice steely. She could see that Tom's hands were trembling; a desperate man could be just as dangerous as a seasoned killer.
"Stay back!" Tom warned, a chilling edge to his voice. His eyes flicked between Rachel and Ethan, betraying a hint of panic. "I didn't want to hurt Jack, but he was going to attack you! You both saw it!"
Rachel's eyes never left Tom's gun, which wavered dangerously in the air
He'd come here with a mission. He'd wanted to shoot Jack.
And now, the man groaned, letting out a strangled breath from where he lay on the ground.
This cry of pain prompted Rachel to motion.
Ethan was already moving forward, and Tom had pointed his gun at the ground.
"Contain him!" Rachel muttered as she brushed past her partner and moved in the direction of the struggling widower.
Rachel sprinted to Jack's side. She knelt beside him, she could hear his shallow gasps for breath and see the terror in his eyes.
At first, she'd thought he'd taken the bullet center mass, but now, up close, in the dingy garage, under the corpse of the hanging doe, she spotted that Jack's shoulder was a mess. Though… it was uncomfortably close to his heart.
"He hit you good--shit," she said hurriedly, meeting the look of panic in Jack's gaze. She reached out, knocking the butcher's knife away just in case.
Seconds before, this man had seemed intent on attacking, but now he just lay there, a trembling mess.
As she worked to bind the wound with a clean rag from the butcher's table, she could feel Tom's piercing stare on her back. The air was thick with tension and uncertainty.
"Rachel," Ethan called out, his voice tense but steady. "We need to get him to a hospital."
"I know," she replied, her own voice firm. "Just keep an eye on Tom."
