REST IN PEACE (Eva Rae Thomas FBI Mystery Book 15)
Prologue
As the rain poured down heavily, Sarah gripped the steering wheel of her car, her knuckles turning white. Her mind was clouded with a mixture of anger, hurt, and frustration. The familiar streets blurred as she drove through town, her vision distorted by the raindrops cascading down the windshield.
She knew it was a terrible idea to confront Steven while in such a state. But the alcohol coursing through her veins drowned out any rational thought she had left. She had convinced herself that this confrontation was long overdue—her chance to finally express all the pent-up emotions that had been simmering inside her for far too long.
Lost in her turbulent thoughts, Sarah failed to notice the trash can standing defiantly in the middle of the road until it was too late. With an abrupt thud, the car collided with it, sending a cacophony of clattering sounds echoing through the empty street. A torrent of expletives escaped Sarah”s lips as she slammed her foot on the brake, her heart pounding in her chest. She stared at the dented trash can, its contents spilling onto the wet asphalt.
”Great,” Sarah grumbled, her anger further fueled by this unexpected obstacle. She glanced around nervously, praying no one had witnessed her reckless driving. If she were caught, this wouldn”t be her first DUI, and she couldn”t afford one more. The rain continued to pelt against the roof of her car, adding an extra layer of frustration to her already chaotic state.
Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down and regain control of her emotions. This was not the time for distractions or accidents. She needed to focus on the real reason she was here—to face her husband head-on and tell him just what she thought of him and his actions. He wasn’t fooling her anymore.
With trembling hands, Sarah shifted back into drive and accelerated down the street. Her headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the path toward his house. Each passing minute brought her closer to the confrontation she had been building up in her mind for months. The rain intensified, pounding against her car with a relentless fury that mirrored the storm inside her.
Finally, Sarah arrived at the house. She parked her car haphazardly, not caring about the crooked angle or that she had hit the curb in her haste. She reached for the door handle, her hand trembling with nerves and anger.
As she exited the car, raindrops plastered her hair to her forehead and soaked through her clothes. But she hardly noticed; she was too consumed by the fire raging within her. She marched up the driveway, leaving muddy footprints in her wake. As she approached the porch, Sarah stumbled slightly, her unsteady gait a testament to her intoxication. Yet, fueled by anger and determination, she pressed forward, marching toward the front door with newfound purpose. The porch light flickered, casting an eerie glow on her flushed face. Sarah took a deep breath to steady herself before pounding on the door. Each thud echoed through the house like a declaration of war.
Seconds stretched into minutes, but there was no response. Frustration etched deep lines into Sarah”s face as she pounded harder, her voice rising in a crescendo of anger.
”Open this door, you coward! We need to talk!”
With every passing moment of silence, Sarah”s fury grew. The rain continued to drum against her back as if mocking her desperation. She stepped back and kicked the door with a force she didn”t know she possessed. The sound reverberated through the quiet neighborhood, shattering the calm night like a thunderclap.