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Chapter 1180: The Killer Calls (Part 2)

“I’m a federal agent. What else could I possibly be doing?” Jack asked, feigning confusion.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jack. You’re here to make this all go away. They sent you to find me, to clean things up, to make me disappear, just like they want!”

The woman’s voice was seething with rage, each word like a ticking time bomb.

To everyone’s surprise, Jack responded with a light chuckle. “I get that you’ve probably been betrayed too many times to trust anyone anymore. But have you ever stopped to wonder why someone specifically had me brought in from New York to investigate this case? You’re a smart woman, but you’re not exactly an expert in forensic counter-surveillance. Don’t you think there are people in Dallas who’d be more qualified—or at least more conveniently located?”

Before she could answer, Jack continued without pause. “Tell me, when you killed for the first time, didn’t it feel satisfying? And now, I bet that feeling’s fading. The satisfaction is barely there, isn’t it? And it’s getting harder to find ‘worthy’ targets, isn’t it? Take that poor bastard you’ve got at gunpoint right now—did you even talk to him?”

There was a long pause on the line before she answered hesitantly, “How do you know that?”

Then she admitted, “Yes. We talked. He told me his wife died of cancer a year ago. When we first met, he was so awkward… he really didn’t seem like one of those men.”

“Trent Rubb is a decent man—loyal, honest. This time, you picked the wrong target. Don’t be surprised I know this—it’s because you’re using his phone.”

Jack was making it up. In truth, he didn’t know anything about Trent Rubb beyond the dossier Aubrey had shown him minutes earlier.

“I don’t know who you are—yet. But I know you used to be a good person. Still, nothing you’ve gone through justifies killing the innocent. And that man you’re threatening right now? He is innocent.”

The sobs on the other end of the line grew louder. Jack seized the moment.

“There’s a reason I haven’t gone public with what we’ve found. But it’s not what you think. No one can buy me—not with money, not with favors, not with promises.”

He took a deep breath. “Let’s make a deal. Let him go. Give me three days. Just three. And you’ll see exactly what you want to see. How about it?”

There was no response. Just a tense silence.

Time dragged. At some point, Jubal, Clay, and Aubrey had silently left the apartment. Only JJ and Hannah remained with Jack.

After a sigh, the woman spoke again, teeth clenched. “Why should I believe you, Agent Tavoler?”

“You don’t have to,” Jack said calmly. “But let’s be honest—you’ve never been that great at judging men. Isn’t that right, Miss Elevator Lady?”

He added with a wry smile, “Honestly, I’m kind of regretting not taking you up on your offer that night. Maybe we would’ve had a better setting to sit down and talk—get to know each other.”

This time, the pause was shorter. A soft, ironic laugh came from the speaker, followed by her reply.

“One day. You have one day. By this time tomorrow, if I don’t see what I want in the media, I swear, Jack—you’ll regret it.”

Click. The call ended with the hollow tone of a dead line.

Jack let out a long breath, his body sagging as though he’d just run a marathon. That conversation had been intense in the most literal, life-or-death sense. One wrong word, and Trent Rubb might’ve been executed right then and there.

Though the decision to keep their investigation out of the media was a collective one, it had been Jack’s call. He’d only done it to lull the lawyers into cooperating. He hadn’t expected the suspect to react this violently—to grab an innocent man just to send him a warning.

“Well done, darling.” Hannah pulled him into a tight hug and kissed him firmly before pushing him toward the door.

“Go. Alice just traced her. She’s at 1818 Collins Street.”

Jack had braced himself for the worst. But when he drove with Hannah and JJ to the location Alice had identified and saw Clay and Aubrey escorting a portly middle-aged man from the underground parking garage, he finally let out a sigh of relief.

Trent Rubb’s face was red and puffy, tape marks still visible around his mouth. He hadn’t even wiped the snot and tears off his face. His knees wobbled as they walked, clearly shaken to the core.

Jack approached, frowning. “Mr. Trent Rubb… haven’t you heard the rumors?”

The Texan nodded miserably. “My lawyer warned me, but I thought it was just an urban legend. That girl—Helena—I had to beg her to go out with me. How could I have known…”

Jack couldn’t help but sigh. It’s true—there were no American idioms warning that “lust leads to death” like in some cultures.

Jubal opened the car door and gestured politely. “Mr. Rubb, please come with us to the station. We’ll need you to work with a sketch artist.”

“No need. I know what she looks like,” Jack said suddenly.

Everyone turned toward him in surprise. They’d gathered from the phone call that something had happened between Jack and the suspect, but none of them expected this.

“I’ve seen her. The night I arrived in Dallas, actually. We ran into each other in the elevator at the hotel where the murder happened. She looked like a high-end executive from a Fortune 500 company—polished, classy. I didn’t think much of it.”

“I mean, who suspects a stunning woman who flirts with you in an elevator of being a killer?” JJ asked, her voice lilting into a mock imitation of the suspect. “Jack? Aren’t you the kind of man who’d want to go out with someone like me?

Jack pretended not to hear the jealousy in her tone and shifted into analysis mode. “Remember? When the DA, Patrick Jackson, was speaking to me at the elevator, he mentioned the name of one of the victims just as the doors opened. Then, as I left, he called me by my full name. She must’ve put it together right then.”

“So… do you actually regret not going for that drink?” Hannah leaned in with a teasing smirk.

“I might’ve ended up on an autopsy table,” Jack deadpanned. “You’d all be trying to catch the killer instead of standing here listening to me talk about her.”


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