One Last Step by Sarah Sutton (top rated ebook readers TXT) 📕

She let the words roll off her tongue and when she was finished, she felt a sudden surge of relief. It was the first time she admitted how helpless she felt to someone other than herself and it felt good to confide in him, even if he might not fully understand.

“I hear you.” John let out another yawn. “But remember, they wouldn’t have put you on this case if they thought you couldn’t handle it. And, if they thought differently after all you’ve shown so far, they would’ve pulled you by now, right?”

Tara was silent as she mulled over his words in her head. He always knew the right thing to say—to remind her of things she easily and quickly forgot.

“I guess you’re right,” Tara finally replied.

“And your partner, how many years has he been doing this?”

“A very long time.” Tara could already see where he was going with it.

“Exactly,” John added, and she could almost hear his smile forming through the phone. “So, this isn’t tough because you’re new and don’t know what you’re doing. Even the most skilled FBI agent is struggling to solve it.”

Tara felt the confidence flood back into her. He was right.

“I’m no agent,” he chuckled. “But in accounting, there’s always an answer.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to word what he was about to say. “I’m assuming if a crime occurred, there’s got to be answers too. I mean, it happened, so there has to be answers, right? It’s just about finding them.”

Tara chuckled too. “It’s not always that easy,” she replied, but in a way he was right. There had to be answers, she just had to find them, even if it was harder than she expected.

He continued to try and instill confidence in her—that she could do this, that she had it in her, and needn’t let doubt seep into her mind. And after their conversation on the subject ended, John felt the need to bring up something else—something Tara dreaded to speak about.

“Have you had any nightmares?” he asked.

She knew he was bound to bring it up, and upon its mention, she realized that she had gone all day without interference from her own demons. Talking to Warren must’ve really helped, she thought. And, while John was helpful, again, the last thing she needed was for him to worry unnecessarily, so she chose her words carefully.

“I was having them a bit in the beginning. I guess certain things about a murder investigation just stir up some emotions.” She laughed a little, trying to make light of it all, but when he didn’t react the same she lost the playfulness from her voice. “I’m okay though, I think I have a good handle on it now.”

There was a silence from the other end of the phone and then John chose his next words carefully.

“I know you said you didn’t want to do therapy again but—”

“John, I’m okay,” she said sharply, relieved now that she didn’t tell him the full truth.

“Tara, it’s going to happen again,” he pleaded, his frustration boiling through the phone.

“I’ll think about it.”

She quickly changed the subject to something lighter and he finally let it go. They spoke for a while longer until Tara grew tired and soon they agreed to go to bed.

After hanging up the phone, Tara wondered if maybe she should consider going back to therapy, but as the thought entered her mind, her eyes grew heavy and she quickly drifted off into sleep.

***

Tara’s eyes fixated on the ceiling in the darkness. She had woken moments ago, yet again. Each time she fell asleep, her thoughts would pull her awake and she now felt so tired of fighting it.

It was something John said. If a crime occurred, then there has to be answers. It was such an obvious statement, yet it stirred something within her. The compass, the sun etched into the tree, and of course the words—they never leave. It meant something, it had to.

She suddenly sat upright, and once again, reached for her nightstand and turned the light on. The etched sun. It was the one thing she didn’t fully think out what it could mean. The killer had been striking at night it seemed, so maybe it was a clue to the time of day he would strike next. But that almost seemed too easy, and Tara wondered if there was a deeper or double meaning to the image.

She reached for her laptop, went to Google, and held her fingers over the keyboard. Setting sun, Hanover. She didn’t quite know what she was searching for, but thought of any way to make a connection and let her fingers type in response.

She scrolled through the results. Mostly images of setting suns and places to watch the sunset. She decided to search a larger area. Setting sun, New Hampshire. Setting sun, Vermont. She searched over and over, narrowing down by town and then expanding. She dug up pictures and looked for anything suspicious. She dug up places—anything she could find related to the area.

But each search result was insignificant, and her eyes eventually fell heavy and she decided to lay her head down for just a moment. But sleep quickly washed over. She couldn’t fight it anymore and her mind drifted off.

***

Darkness surrounded her except for the sliver of light above. She looked up at the moon, illuminating with such intensity. Tall pine trees scraped the sky, scattered every way she looked. Everything looked black—like shadows—in the darkness. For a moment she felt protected by them. As if their tall trunks and sharp needles shielded her from all that was negative in the world.

She took a deep breath, inhaling the strong aroma of pine needles. The smell was so strong, it was unnatural, but it caused her to relax.

But then she heard something. It was a sound she’d heard before and her heart picked up speed as she realized