Chapter 44
FORTY-FOUR
The drive to Jeff Gold’s house felt like slipping off the edge of the world.
Zoe gripped the steering wheel, her eyes flicking between the winding dirt road and the thinning signal bars on her phone. The deeper she went into the backwoods, the quieter everything became. No streetlights, no passing cars, just the occasional scatter of wildlife disappearing into the brush.
She had racked her brain for any connection to the retired federal prosecutor. But she came up with zilch. Why had he decided to send Jackie’s riddle addressed to him her way? Why had Jackie sent this to him in the first place?
Questions rattled around in her head. She hadn’t seen a house for miles.
And then, there it was.
A weathered old cabin, half-swallowed by the surrounding trees, its wooden exterior scarred. The front porch sagged slightly, and the single yellow porch light flickered dimly, like it was struggling to survive.
She killed the engine and stepped out. The scent of pine and wet earth surrounded her.
Her boots crunched against the damp leaves. A flutter rose in her chest. Without thinking, she knocked at the front door.
A long pause.
The sound of locks shifting, bolts sliding open. The door cracked just enough for her to see him.
Jeff Gold.
His face was lined. His hair was silver-streaked, unevenly trimmed, as if he hadn’t cared enough to do it properly. There was stubble on his jaw, deep shadows under his eyes. He smelled like old books and whiskey, and he gripped a half-full glass in his hand.
Despite the wear and tear, his eyes were wide and alert. And they stared at her like he’d seen a ghost.
“Hello.” Zoe’s voice was hoarse. “I’m?—”
“Emily.”
She suddenly realized why the name had sounded so familiar.
The floodgates in her mind opened. Memories of her mother yelling at her, Emily!
Finish your banana! ; a teacher at school, Well done, Emily ; the kids at school playing with her, Want to play hide and seek, Emily?
A cacophony of voices hurtling around her head at full speed and making her ears bleed.
She closed her eyes, trying to suppress the long-buried memories. A different name, a different person. The truth was right in front of her, hidden by layers of the years that had gone by. Why didn’t she remember? How could she have forgotten?
Her dreams hadn’t forgotten.
“How do you know?”
“You look exactly like your mother.” His voice was rough. His eyes glanced behind her in paranoia. “Come inside.”
The cabin was dark, save for the weak light filtering through the window.
The fireplace was cold, the air inside tinged with stale whiskey and old paper.
Books were everywhere. Not neatly arranged—piles stacked on the floor, crammed onto shelves, scattered across the table.
Some with faded covers, others with handwritten notes stuffed between pages.
She ran her fingers over one, brushing off a thin layer of dust. This was a man who had buried himself alive in books and whiskey, cut off from everything that had once tethered him to the world.
Jeff went through the elaborate process of locking the door. His robe swished behind him as he crossed the room to the window, peered outside, and drew the curtains shut. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
“No.” She frowned. “How did you know my mother?”
He set down his glass and rubbed his lips, deep in thought. “I was a federal prosecutor. Your mother and you went into witness protection. Connect the dots.”
“Who did my mother testify against?” she asked. The answer was in this room. The name of the man who killed Rachel. “What’s his name?”
WITSEC was a notoriously secretive program. Even as an FBI agent, Zoe had no access to court records. Since Rachel’s death was “natural,” her records were permanently sealed.
“You want to get straight to the point,” he said dryly. “How did you find me?”
“I asked you first.”
“It’s my house. My rules.” His face hardened. “How did you find me?”
Her heart thudded. “You sent me a riddle that was addressed to you. Even though you tried to hide your involvement.”
“Ah, I see. You’re sharper than I thought. Did you solve the case?”
“That’s not why I’m here.” She paused. “We’re working on it. Why did you send it to me?”
He sank into the armchair and raked his eyes over her. “You might not like what you find out, child.”
“It’s always better to know.”
Silence stretched between them, thin and taut. Zoe curled her hands into fists in her pockets. Bolts of energy climbed up her legs. But she willed herself to be patient.
“Have you heard of a shadow criminal organization called Red Trigger?”
“Yes. But I don’t know much about it.”
He nodded. “Your mother worked for them. She was a contract killer.”
Hollowness grew behind Zoe’s navel and crept its way into the rest of her body. All air left her lungs as she exhaled. “No.”
“I know it’s difficult for you to hear, considering the honorable path you’ve taken in your life.
” He picked up his glass again and turned it in his hand.
“Your mother was very young, just a teenager, when she was sold to Red Trigger by a trafficker who had abducted her. She was groomed from a young age to kill. It was all she knew. It wasn’t her fault.
” Dazed, Zoe let his words wash over her like water.
“Whenever the organization needed to assassinate someone, they sent your mother. Over the years, she experienced a crisis of conscience many times. But it was the only life she knew, so she was never able to walk away. Even after having you. It wasn’t until she indirectly caused the death of a teenage boy at Pineview Falls that she finally had the courage. ”
“Michael,” Zoe whispered.
“Yes. Her task was to lead the boy to a haunted house and then distract the operator. What she thought would be an abduction turned into a massacre. That’s when she approached me.”
Zoe recalled David mentioning a pretty woman had begun talking to him and he’d stepped away from his station. The whole time it was her mother who had been at the center of the massacre at Pineview Falls.
“We worked together for several months. I even met you twice but you were too young to remember.” A smile formed on his lips. “I heard Rachel committed suicide. After that I kept tabs on you and your sister.” He hesitated. “How is she?”
“Who?”
“Gina.”
The way he said her name. It carried so much love. Zoe stared at him blankly and then she saw it—a slightly upturned nose and almond-shaped eyes that were too familiar. Her nerves sizzled. “Oh my God… you’re her father.”
Jeff whipped his head to look the other way. “I had a wife and kids, Emily. I couldn’t… well, you understand.”
Zoe didn’t understand anything. “So you know who I am. Jackie, Michael’s sister, sent that riddle to you. Do you remember?”
“Oh, yes.” He blinked, frowning. “It was so long ago but… I remember there was a little girl with the family. It must have been her. I had visited the family on multiple occasions, trying to gather more information on Michael and why he had been targeted.”
“She must have remembered you. That’s why she sent it to you. The only person she knew who had worked on the original case.”
“And I forwarded it to you. I’m an old man and Pineview Falls stirred up memories of your mother. I know how great you are at what you do. She would have been proud of you. You have her killer instincts.”
Rachel a killer ? Zoe still couldn’t get her head around it no matter how long she held that thought. It percolated inside her like a foreign body. A thought her brain kept rejecting like a failed transplant.
“Who did she testify against?” she asked.
Jeff opened his mouth. “He’s?—”
The front window shattered, the sharp whine of a bullet slicing through glass before burying itself into the far wall.
Jeff barely had time to move before another shot rang out, this one slamming into the wooden bookshelf behind him, sending a shower of splinters raining down.
Zoe reacted on instinct. Her crowded mind emptied and she became a machine.
She reached for her gun, flipping the small table in front of her as makeshift cover. Jeff cursed, ducking behind the armchair.
A voice, sharp and laced with amusement, drifted in from outside.
“All you had to do was stop asking questions, Agent Storm.”
Zoe knew that voice. Viktor Axenov. Rage seared her skin, turning her blood hot. She tightened her grip on the gun.
She peered through the shattered window, her heart pounding.
Viktor stood just beyond the porch, his silhouette sharp against the flashing lightning behind him. He had a pistol in one hand, a smirk on his face, and was absolutely calm.
“Viktor,” she called out. “I should’ve known you were too much of a cockroach to stay buried. I see Darren sent you my message.”
Viktor laughed, tilting his head slightly. “He did. I thought I should oblige and pay you a personal visit. Clearly, you didn’t get my message in Harborwood.” He took a step forward, tapping the barrel of his gun against his thigh. “Now, be a good girl and step outside. I only want to talk.”
Zoe shifted slightly, silently signaling to Jeff to stay put. Her heart raced as she quickly tried to figure out how to get to safety. She pulled up her phone and dialed 911, but before she could tap the call button, there was an ear-splitting sound and the front door blasted open.
“Ah!” Jeff shouted.
Zoe fired a bullet but Viktor ducked, laughing, dodging her shot by inches as he disappeared behind a tree just beyond the porch.
“You aren’t as good a shot as your mother!” Viktor called out.
Zoe’s pulse was a roaring drumbeat in her ears. He knew her. Of course he did. She wasn’t surprised. She moved fast, cutting toward the side of the cabin, her gun steady. She caught sight of Jeff moving behind the kitchen counter, trying to get to his phone.
Zoe’s phone was lying a few feet away from her after falling out of her grip. She contemplated reaching for it when another shot blasted through the air.
This time there was another sound that followed. A squelching, sickening, wet sound. Zoe lifted her eyes to Jeff standing in front of the window. Blood poured from a hole in his chest, trickling down his white robe and turning it red.
“No!” she screamed.
Jeff staggered against the counter, eyes wide, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. He slipped down the wall, landing on the floor with a thud.
Viktor stepped into the house. “Tsk, tsk,” he mused. “Are you going to put up a fight, Emily?” Zoe was still crouched behind an armchair, her heart thundering. “Your mother certainly did before I killed her.”
Zoe didn’t stop to think.
She fired three times. Fast, sharp, her aim clean.
Viktor barely had time to react before one of the bullets slammed into his shoulder, another grazing his ribs. The last one lodged in his stomach. His laugh twisted into a grunt of pain, and he stumbled back.
Zoe didn’t hesitate. Her instincts took over. She advanced, gun steady, her heart ice-cold. Viktor choked out a breath as his legs gave out. His jaw hung open as he took raspy breaths, his beady eyes wide in disbelief.
Zoe towered over his withering frame, satisfaction swelling inside her. “Who do you work for?”
Viktor’s smirk flickered, just for a moment. Then he tipped his head back and laughed. “You’ll find out soon.”
Her eyes darkened. “This is for my mother.”
Zoe drilled a bullet through his skull. He fell limp at her feet. His blood pooled around her boots. The spell broke. A strangled whimper escaped her throat and her knees knocked together.
Her chest heaved, adrenaline still racing through her as she turned back to Jeff. He was on the floor, blood pooling beneath him, his breathing ragged.
Zoe dropped beside him, pressing both hands over the wound. “Jeff, stay with me,” she whispered, panic bleeding into her voice. Where the hell was her phone? Her frantic eyes searched the place, but her eyes were stinging with tears and everything was a mess.
He gave a weak chuckle, coughing. “Never thought I’d go down in this damn house.”Zoe shook her head. “No, don’t—don’t do that, don’t talk like that. I’ll get help. Please hang on.”
He gritted his teeth, his fingers curling weakly against hers. “Listen,” he rasped. “Your mother… I loved her. Tell Gina about me. I know I wasn’t there because I felt so g-guilty for betraying my family. I owed it to them to stay away b-but she was always on my mind.”
Zoe swallowed past the lump in her throat, nodding. “I will. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He coughed, blood sputtering out of his mouth. “The man your mother worked for…” And then under the dwindling light of the day, Jeff went still.
All the air squeezed out of Zoe’s lungs. She leaned back on her hands, taking in the carnage of the cabin.
Two dead men, and the name of the man behind it all had died with them.