The first ring sent a chill of anticipation through Rachel. Knowing that this phone call could save a life or take them directly to their killer made each ring from the other end seem like a jolt of electricity. The phone rang a second time, then a third. When the fourth ring ended abruptly and kicked over to the outgoing message, she hoped it would be the voice of the phones owner, giving their name and asking the caller to please leave a message. Instead, they got the monotone voice of a female robot, reciting the users phone number at them. Frustrated, Rachel killed the call. Her thoughts were rampaging through her head and she once again felt that brief flash of dizziness. She looked back to the door shed kicked in and felt a growing tension within her. Her chest grew tight and panic started to grip her. Great, she thought. A panic attack on top of everything else…

Rachel?

She looked at Jack and saw that he was reaching for the pad. She handed it to him and when her arm moved, it felt like she was underwater. She was feeling far too overwhelmed. She needed to sit down. She needed to run away.

Its okay, he said, casting a concerned look her way. Ill get my guy at the bureau to locate the phone. We know its a cell because of the automated outgoing message.

The idea brought Rachel out of her momentary haze. She nodded and asked, How long do you think itll take?

Ill make it clear how important it is. We can probably have a location for it in the next fifteen or twenty minutes. In the meantime, maybe we can have Branson and his men run the number and get a name for the account.

Yeah, okay.

Hey…Rachel. Seriously, its okay. She could see that he was still concerned and that he was fighting the urge to ask her once again what was wrong with her.

I know, she said. Sorry about that, by the way, she said, pointing to the door.

Not a problem. Seems it was your gut working overtime, and once again coming up right.