Page 17 of Not This Night

Rachel stepped into the cluttered living space, a narrow path winding through the chaos. Ethan hovered by the door, eyes sweeping the scene.

"Where's Jenna?" Rachel’s words cut through the stale air, sharp and clear.

The presumed boyfriend shifted, his gaze skittering away. "Haven't seen her. She takes off sometimes."

"Jenna often go missing for days on end with no word, Miles?" Ethan's voice was steady. “Miles?”

The boyfriend, Miles, glanced at him. “Do I know you?”

“No, but we’re going to talk anyway. Now focus, we’re here about Jenna. When was the last time you saw her?”

"I don’t know, man. Jenna's got her ways. Gets all prissy and drives off. Sometimes it takes a day or two," he muttered with a shrug, scratching at a day-old stubble. "But she always comes back."

Rachel's eyes locked onto something unexpected – a flash of turquoise circling his wrist. An incongruous adornment against the grim backdrop.

"Nice bracelet," she commented, nodding towards the piece of jewelry.

He glanced down, as if noticing it for the first time. "Oh, this? Jenna gave it to me."

"Special occasion?" Her question hung in the air, pointed.

"What? Nah. I mean, it was just... because." His response arrived after a pause, his ponderous words suddenly losing their edge as he forced a nonchalant tilt of his head. It was conversational, casual… too casual.

"Interesting choice. Turquoise, right?”

“I guess.”

Rachel leaned in, her shadow falling over the coffee-stained table that separated them. "When exactly was the last time you saw Jenna?" she pressed, voice steady.

"Look, I told ya, I don’t keep a diary," he snapped back, irritation creeping into his slurred words. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding her piercing gaze.

"Easy, we're just talking here," Rachel said, though her stance remained unyielding. She observed him closely, searching for any telltale sign of deceit—a twitch, a too-quick denial, anything.

"Talk then," he retorted, folding his arms defensively across his chest. The bracelet slipped slightly, exposing a thin line of pale skin beneath.

"Your neighbors say it's been quiet around here. Unusual for Jenna," Rachel said, narrowing her eyes slightly. Silence hung heavy for a moment. This was a lie, but sometimes, deception was required to shake predators from the underbrush.

Ethan shifted uncomfortably at her side.

"Jenna's loud when she's here, sure. So what?" He glanced toward the door, as if considering an escape.

"Two days of silence is a lot, don't you think?" Ethan chimed in, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

The boyfriend let out a scoff, then dropped his gaze to the floor, wincing as he looked away from the empty bottles littering the space. "I've been... out of it," he admitted grudgingly. "Decided to relax a bit, okay? Maybe she had enough and took off. She doesn’t always stop to yell at me when she gets bent out of shape about something… Shit, or maybe she did?" Miles stopped himself, staring into space as his disordered mind tried to organize his memories.

"Two days?" Rachel asked, her tone insistent yet controlled.

"Could be more," he muttered, rubbing his forehead as if trying to erase the throbbing reminders of his indulgence.

"Could be," Rachel echoed, her mind racing through the implications. She made a mental note of his state—too wrapped up in his own fog to notice Jenna's absence.

Rachel's gaze fixated on the turquoise bracelet enveloping the boyfriend's wrist, a stark contrast against his pale skin. "That's Jenna's?" she asked, her voice steady as steel.

"Yeah," he answered, twisting the bracelet around his wrist. "Like I said. A gift."

"Did she get it from the reservation? Does she go there often?" Rachel probed, her eyes locked onto his, unblinking.

"Sometimes," Miles replied, shifting uneasily in his seat. "There's this shop... Artifacts. Guy named Scott Hawkeye runs it."

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