Page 11 of Not This Soon

Rachel shook her head. "They wanted us to find her. Wanted to make a statement."

"But why? What's the point?"

"I don't know." Rachel's jaw tightened. "The cartels are often vicious.”

“Think that pendant was intentionally left, though? Red herring?”

“Possible. But also they might want to take credit for their work. A warning to anyone else who might cross them.”

They pressed on, the trail twisting and turning through the dunes. Rachel's eyes never left the ground, her focus unwavering.

Just as she was beginning to wonder if they'd lost the trail, Rachel spotted something in the distance. A glint of metal, barely visible against the sand.

She froze, her hand instinctively reaching for her weapon. "Ethan."

He stepped up beside her, his eyes following her gaze. "What is it?"

Rachel didn't answer. She was already moving, her steps quickening as she closed the distance to the object. As she drew nearer, the shape became clear - a spent shell casing lying in the sand.

She crouched down, carefully picking up the casing with a gloved hand. It was still warm to the touch, the metal gleaming in the sunlight.

"Rachel?" Ethan's voice held a note of concern.

She looked up at him, her expression grim. "We're on the right track. And we're not alone out here."

Rachel stood up, the shell casing clutched in her hand. The wind whipped at her hair, sending strands dancing across her face. She scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement.

"This feels familiar," she said, her voice barely audible over the wind. "Like when I was tracking that mountain lion a few years back."

Ethan frowned. "A mountain lion?"

"It was terrorizing a small town," Rachel explained, her gaze still fixed on the distant dunes. "Killed a couple of hikers before the state called me in."

She remembered the hunt vividly - the long days spent tracking the beast through the rugged terrain, the sleepless nights spent waiting for it to strike again. It had been a grueling experience, both physically and mentally.

But the lion hadn’t tried to cover its tracks… Part of her had often wondered if the lion hadwantedto be found. It kept circling back in her direction.

"I spent weeks on that animal's trail," she murmured, her voice taking on a distant quality. "Learned its habits, its movements. In the end, I was able to predict where it would strike next."

Ethan nodded slowly. "And you think this is similar?"

"In a way. We're dealing with a predator. A human one, but a predator nonetheless. And like any predator, they'll have patterns. Habits."

She looked down at the shell casing in her hand. "We just have to find them."

With that, she tucked the casing into her pocket and started walking again. The trail led them deeper into the desert, the dunes rising up around them like ancient sentinels. The sand shifted beneath their feet, making each step an effort.

But Rachel didn't slow down.

The sun beat down on them mercilessly, the heat shimmering off the sand in waves. Rachel could feel the sweat trickling down her face, stinging her eyes. Her throat was parched.

Still, she pushed on. The trail was growing fainter now, the tracks harder to discern in the shifting sands.

She paused. The gap between the dunes had widened now. She stared at the casing in her hand.

The killer hadn’t left brass at the actual crime scene.

She paused, wrinkling her nose. Something felt off. They were exposed here. The wind had picked up, suggesting less obstacles. She glanced one way then the other, her body tensing as she surveyed the landscape.

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