Page 54 of Not This Soon

“Then who did?”

“And why are they two hours south, killing Eleanor here,” Rachel replied.

Rachel fell silent for a moment, her gaze affixed on the woman's pale body illuminated under the harsh white light of the crime scene. The gruesome tableau offered no easy explanations. She shifted her gaze back to the ground, scanning the multitude of prints and trails once again.

"Do we have Eleanor's phone?" she asked abruptly, breaking the pensive silence.

"We got it," Ethan replied. "The tech team is working on it now."

"Good," Rachel nodded, her mind churning with fresh theories. "We need to know who Eleanor was in contact with before she was killed."

Rachel turned back to Eleanor's lifeless body, crouched down and began examining her clothes. She noted every detail: the torn hem of her ripped jeans, the sandy imprints embedded into the fabric of her blouse, and even a small hole near the waistband - possibly from a bullet.

She scanned the area around Eleanor's body once more for any signs of struggle or self-defense. The roughened skin on Eleanor's knuckles suggested evidence of a fight, but there were no other immediate signs to indicate otherwise.

She kept staring at the trails on the ground. Rattlesnakes…

Why rattlesnakes?

They were native to Texas. Specifically, the West Texas desert and the Rio Grande Valley - both places characterized by a hot, dry climate. It was not uncommon to encounter rattlesnakes in the wilderness areas of Texas, especially during summers when they were most active.

But there was a reason rattlesnakes had rattles on their tails.

They vibrated their tails when threatened, a warning mechanism before striking. Was Eleanor Hartley given a warning too? The question hung in the air, heavy and somber as she studied Eleanor's corpse one more time.

A swirl of sand danced by her foot, twirling up in the night breeze before dissipating into the darkness. It was starkly quiet apart from the whispering wind, carrying echoes of desolation from the distant desert dunes.

Rachel finally tore her gaze away from Eleanor's remains, her stern eyes landing on Ethan again. "A warning… not a threat…” she said quietly.

“What’s that?”

She looked up. “The rattlesnake’s tail gives a warning. It tells predators tobackoff.”

“And?”

“The cage… the pendant. They’re warnings,” she murmured.

“How do you mean?”

"They're not meant to scare," she elaborated, her voice low and contemplative. "They're meant to deter. To protect."

Rachel fell silent, her gaze wandering back to the cage and the lifeless snakes inside. She felt a chill creep up her spine, an uncanny sense of dread settling in her stomach. The silence of the desert was deafening.

"Protect whom?" Ethan's voice pierced the quiet, yanking Rachel back from her thoughts.

“Them.”

“Them?”

“The victims…” she said. Pieces were now clicking into place. “The mercy,” she said, speaking faster now. “He shows them mercy because he’s protecting them. The warnings are forthem.”

“For Rebecca and for Eleanor?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, insistently. She waved her hat about, nodding as she did. Her mind raced, and her fingers brushed through the turquoise beads in her hair. “He’s showing them mercy…”

“So, Rebecca… was being hunted by the cartel. So his warning was about them?”

She nodded once.

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