Page 62 of Not This Night

The patrol car skidded across the dirt road, dust clouds erupting around them, the crunch of gravel echoing in the stillness of the night. Big Joe's grunt of relief was barely audible over the rustle of sand and pebbles.

"Lift your feet." Rachel's voice sounded distant as she leaned over the console to unlock his cuffs.

"Don't make me regret this," she warned as he stretched his massive frame out of the cramped back seat, a sigh of relief seeping through his gritted teeth.

Rachel's gaze remained locked onto Big Joe's retreating figure.

Rachel's mind was a whirlwind of what-ifs and unanswered questions. If Charlie had gone to blackmail Lucy Thompson and Miguel Ortiz, what had gone so awfully wrong? Why were they dead instead?

Her fingers curled and uncurled restlessly as she stared blankly out at the desolate Texas landscape. She felt like she was missing something – a crucial piece of information that lurked just beyond her mental grasp.

She tugged out her phone and checked her email again. No reply yet from the coroner.

“I can’t wait,” she said suddenly.

“What’s that?”

“Coroner’s report,” she muttered. “I can’t wait. We need to go see.”

“What? The coroner’s office?”

“Yes. I want to see Miguel and Lucy.”

“O-okay… We calling ahead?”

“Don’t care. I just want to see them. If Charlie was there to blackmail Lucy… how come she’s dead?”

“Maybe it went south?”

“Then why kill the others? If his was a money play… why turn serial?”

“He snapped? Lucy rejects him, maybe she even threatens to reveal whatever secret he had herself—you know, take away his leverage. He can’t deal with that big of an upset, all his plans coming unraveled. And he goes on a rampage.”

“Maybe.”

“I mean… it fits, doesn’t it?”

Rachel bit her lower lip. It didn’t sit right. And Big Joe’s conviction… Charlie wasn’t a killer. It wasn’t a stellar character witness, but it wasn’t something to ignore either.

"Then we've got to figure out what's going on," Rachel said, determination flashing in her eyes. "Cause right now, all we have are loose ends and dead bodies."

Ethan gave a grim nod, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He pulled the car back onto the road, the engine's growl echoing as they raced towards the morgue.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

The Reaper paced. Concrete beneath his boots seeming even rougher than usual on the rubber soles. His eyes, predatory and sharp, scanned the family planning center. He was a shadow, transient as he moved, his gaze etching every detail into memory—windows, doors, escape routes.

How long had it been since he’d visited?

Years ago.

Years and years…

The memories flashed through his mind, his rage rising to meet them. He had to bite his tongue, biting even harder until he drew blood.

He released a slow, echoing whimper.

He opened his mouth, breathing softly, tasting the tang of copper.

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