Page 35 of Not This Place

Silence fell between them again as Rachel studied him.

Rachel's heart thumped against her ribcage, a rare flutter in a chest usually bound by control. She stepped back, the space between them crackling with the echo of their shared moment. It was a vulnerability neither of them could afford, yet it lingered there, as tangible as the cool metal of her badge against her chest.

They’d flirted. Gone on dates. Grown closer…

But this was different. There was more behind that kiss than any interaction they’d had before.

Rachel touched her lips, the warmth of Ethan's kiss still lingering as a stark contrast to the chill in the air. She studied him for a moment, recognizing the genuine fear that had prompted his bold move. There was no room for softness in the harsh light of dawn, yet it found a way to sneak past the barriers she meticulously built.

"Okay," she started, her voice betraying none of the emotions swirling within. "Alice Danvers. We need to figure out what she knows."

Ethan just watched her.

Rachel sighed. She could see the scorned puppy dog look return to Ethan’s face. She hated that.

“You know I think you’re hot, right?” she blurted out.

He smirked. “How hot?”

She hesitated, then leaned in, giving him a quick kiss back. “Now don’t make a thing out of it. Focus, okay? I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re both fine.”

He sniffed, nodding. “Sorry… sorry, I don’t mean to be a wimp.”

"Yeah, well. Stop it then," she said. Then she winked, so he knew she was half-kidding.

Ethan was always more comfortable with emotions.

He was more emotionally oriented than she was, coming from a large family and all. Yet Rachel had spent her life learning how to stow away those feelings in favor of tangible facts and concrete actions. She knew emotions could be messy, unpredictable.

But with Ethan?

She found she didn’t mind so much.

She walked past him and slapped him on the backside as she did.

“How hot?” he repeated.

"Let's go then." Rachel approached the unmarked car, the black paint job absorbing the early sunrays. They drove in a strangely contented, after-glow silence, each lost in thoughts, the quiet hum of the engine blending with the distant calls of waking birds.

The station loomed ahead, its brick facade an unyielding fortress against the sprawling Texas landscape. They parked and walked through the doors, badges visible, purpose clear. The fluorescent lights flickered overhead as they made their way down the sterile hallway to the interrogation room.

The closer they drew to the interrogation room, the more Rachel’s thoughts focused on the task at hand.

Ethan at her side was source of warmth, of support.

She shot him a glance, quirking an eyebrow. “You ready?”

He nodded and pushed open the door.

Alice Danvers sat at the table, a bright red dress enveloping her form like a warning sign. It was a bold choice, and Rachel noted the calculated effect it had on the room. Alice looked up, her gaze sharp and assessing, a coy smile playing on her lips as if she were at a social event rather than an interrogation.

"Mrs. Danvers," Ethan greeted, pulling out a chair across from her.

"Agent Morgan," Alice replied, her voice smooth. "And Ranger Blackwood. Good to see you again."

Rachel gave a curt nod, taking her place beside Ethan. The game was set. Now it was time to play.

Ethan leaned forward, his elbows bracing against the cold metal table. His fingers interlocked, creating a steeple that pointed straight at Alice Danvers. "Let's talk about the night your daughter died."

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