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“No, it’s just me.”
“Ever been to Seattle before?” Angler asked.
“No, this is my first time.”
“Well then,” he said, pushing the stack of paperwork and waivers in her direction. “Let’s get all of this started so we can get to the important stuff. And then let’s push you out of here to go explore the city.”
She reached for the files and papers. The stack was nearly a foot tall and was pretty intimidating. But if this was the most time-consuming part of what was about to happen, she was more than happy to accept it. With the three doctors all smiling warmly at her, she opened the first folder, grabbed the pen that was waiting inside on top of a series of forms, and began the process.
CHAPTER TWO
By the time Rachel checked into her hotel, she felt like she was on a small vacation. She was in and out of the clinic in an hour and a half—and would have been out even sooner if he’d not had a few questions about the paperwork. The paperwork had taken nearly an entire hour and had indeed turned out to be the worst thing about the entire experience.
Now, looking out the window of her hotel room down onto the Belltown area of the city. It was still raining, which seemed to fit just about every stereotype she’d heard about Seattle. She could see a few different restaurants, a few bars, some scattered shops here and there. It was currently 3:30 Seattle time, which meant it would be another three hours before Paige would be arriving home…and another six or so before Jack would be off the clock at work.
She was feeling positive about the treatment. And though she loved Paige, Grandma Tate, and Jack, it was nice to be away from home for a while. Aside from chasing down leads on her own here and there, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever just spent some time alone. Dr. Angler had joking made the recommendation to head out into the city for a meal and a drink and as she looked out onto the city with a bright new hope for the future, that seemed like an incredibly good idea.
She cut the television on simply for some background noise and decided to take a shower before heading out. One of the reasons she didn’t like to fly was because she always felt slightly stuffy—almost dingy—whenever the flight was over. She figured a nice refreshing shower would be a great way to set off on a small adventure into the city.
Still, as she showered, she found herself wondering what Jack was up to. Neither of them had been assigned to any notable cases in the past two weeks. Between cases, Jack usually helped run clean-up on smaller cases as a relief to other agents—usually those with less experience. She found herself eager to talk to him…not just about his day at work, but with details about how her time at the clinic had gone.
When she stepped out of the shower, she realized that she was maybe in the best mood she’d been in for a very long time. She wasn’t sure what that said about her—to be so overjoyed and free while away from home—but there was an undeniable bounce in her step. As she made her way out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her, she was even humming a song she’d caught on the radio during the drive between the clinic and the hotel.
She started getting changes, figuring she’d dress cute and simply treat herself. A drink or two, maybe a trip to a local bookstore for a book to read over the next few days while she was in the city. As she quickly studied herself in the mirror, a gameshow on the TV went to commercial break as the camera swept over an applauding audience. She barely paid it any attention until the commercial break kicked off with a quick promo for the evening news.
A young female news anchor started stiffly into the camera and said, “No new movement in the murder of local doctor Emma Willis doesn’t necessarily mean a cold case. We’ll have the latest updates and speak to local authorities as to why Willis’s killer has remained so elusive. All of this and more on your local news at six.”
She stood in front of the mirror for a second, the announcement having frozen her in place for a moment. She supposed it was a workplace hazard to always notice the headlines of unsolved murders in a new place. The news items some would only frown out before changing channels usually stuck in her like a thorn. She wondered if it was the same for most other agents as well. She recalled the article she’d read on the plane, bringing back the few details she’d gathered.
A renowned biochemist, pushed from her eleventh story window. No clues or trace evidence left behind. No signs of forced entry. No leads on the case.
Don’t do it…
She heard the comment in her head, coming through in Jack’s voice. And really, it was good advice. She was in town to focus on her health, to try to finally beat this tumor. The last thing she should be doing was growing obsessed with a case that was very far away from home.
Then again, she’d been keeping her mind sharp with puzzles…and what better puzzle than a murder case that had yet to be cracked?
The idea of going out for a drink dissolved slowly away as she went to her suitcase. She opened it up, pulled out her laptop, and powered it up while sitting in the center of the bed. She then searched the local news for Dr. Emma Willis's murder. There were countless articles from local news organizations and even a few on the national level as well. She spent some time reading over the articles as the gameshow came back on TV. Almost absently, she switched it off and focused all of her attention on her lazy research.
The vast majority of the articles focused on the same details she’d already learned. But there were a few, including the handful she’d found that had gone national, that revealed a bit more. And as she continued to read about the murder and Dr. Emma Willis herself, Rachel started to find more pieces to the puzzle.
Dr. Emma Willis was forty-four when she died. The work she’d done in regards to the reversal of aging was heralded by many to be the most important in the field. And while the details were slim, it was suggested that she and a team scattered around the globe were on the verge of a breakthrough that would revolutionize the field. Out of more than twenty articles, only two mentioned a small blip on the radar from three years ago when a paper she'd written on the use of stem cells had caused a stir in certain political circles. It had been Dr. Willis's first step onto the national media stage, and she'd handled it with grace.
As for the murder itself, it had occurred in Dr. Willis’s apartment sometime between 10:20 and 10:40. The last people to have seen her were two doctors who had been on a video call with her. Neither of them indicated that anything had been amiss; if anything, Dr. Willis had seemed excited about the meeting and what was on the horizon. The scene had showed a fairly simple story: a shattered window beside the doctor’s bureau and the doctor herself, dead on the pavement eleven floors below. Security cameras from the lobby of the apartment complex had given the police upwards of thirty potential suspects, nine of which were impossible to identify due to the angles at which they’d passed by the camera.
A list of thirty potential suspects…a doctor shoved from a window…a twenty-minute period in which it could have happened…security cameras in the lobby…
There were other factors she thought of that weren’t included in any of the articles. For instance, were the elevators of the newer variety, with the electronic touchpads? If so, what information could be gleaned from their routes during that twenty-minute window? What had Dr. Willis been wearing when she was pushed? Had any neighbors on the eleventh floor heard or seen anything odd over the last few days?
Rachel glanced at the clock in the corner of her laptop screen and saw that she'd been looking over the articles for forty-five minutes. She closed the cover slowly and sat in the center of the bed, in a position Paige referred to as crisscross applesauce, thinking. If the next three days at the clinic were as speedy as it had been today (and without all of the paperwork, thanks God) she’d have a lot of time on her hands. What would be the harm in checking in with local PD to see if she could lend a hand?
Even before the thought had time to root itself in her thoughts, she’d pretty much decided. Any illusions she’d had of taking the afternoon to enjoy herself with food, drink, and relaxation was gone. But what she had in mind was even more tempting, something she knew she’d not be able to ignore for the duration of her stay.
She grabbed her phone and, after some strategic planning, found the number for the FBI's Seattle field office online. As she was digitally ushered to the switchboard, she wondered if she should have perhaps called Director Anderson first. She honestly didn't think he'd mind—that he'd actually be thrilled to have one of his agents assisting in another city on a case no one had yet been able to move forward. She figured she'd call him next just to make sure all of the boxes were checked.
After pressing a series of numbers and finally being transferred to a human, a woman’s dry, monotone voice spoke up in her ear. “Federal Bureau of Investigation, Seattle office. What extension do you need?”
Without much thought behind it, Rachel gave her name and badge number. And in doing so, her trip to Seattle suddenly had two very important purposes.
