She tore her attention away from it. Her eyes roved over the back of the house. The back door was already wide open, the metal frame dented.

That had to be the killer's entry. Ruby cautiously followed up the steps, listening for another scream.

She peered inside. The place looked like it had been hit by a tornado. There were papers thrown across the floor, the table was turned over, and cupboards and drawers were pulled open, their contents strewn across the floor.

Ruby toed around the scattered cutlery on the floor, trying to navigate through the kitchen silently. She looked to the knife block on the counter.

It was completely empty.

Ruby cleared the room, scanning her flashlight into the shadows and crevices. Gabe's parting words kept ringing in her mind. Try not to get yourself killed.

A slow creeeeeak whined from upstairs. Ruby turned to it.

The staircase was old. The steps were all a little worn down in the middle from use. With each step, Ruby expected the wood to groan underneath her. She was vulnerable on the stairs, exposed with only one way down. She hated how quiet it suddenly was.

Keeping low as she reached the top of the stairs, finally there was a person in her eyeline. Not just signs and sounds of a struggle, but a person.

He stood in the middle of the room. In one hand, he clutched a knife, holding it as comfortably as if it were an extension of him. The blood was already dark and slick.

Ruby raised her gun, her finger wrapped around the trigger.

He turned around, his eyes filled with a manic fervor.

In the flash of an instant, Ruby knew exactly who she was looking at.

“You!” she breathed. She'd stared right at him, spoken to him at Marcia Reuben's motel room. He'd been in arm's reach.

If they hadn't been in such a hurry to find Marcia, they could have stopped and questioned him further, and had him in custody.

Instead, Ruby had left him there, leaving him free to find Dana Jacobsen

Suddenly, a clatter broke Ruby out of the moment. A closet door burst open behind the killer. Dana herself burst out, her fingers wrapped tightly around a badminton racket.

In a flurry, she swung.

The man turned just in time to grab it, yanking Dana forward. Her body blocked him as she struggled against his grip.

There was no way to get a clear shot. Ruby acted without thinking, sprinting the remaining distance. There was no other way to stop him.

Ruby lunged for him, honing in on the knife in his hand. Her fingers found his wrist, but the knife found her arm, sending a white-hot pain radiating all the way up. She instantly stumbled back, reacting on instinct.

Dana clawed at his skin, thrashing in his grip until she broke free enough to thrust and smash her elbow into his jaw.