Page 10 of Not This Soon

Rachel's gaze settled on a small depression in the sand, barely visible amidst the shifting dunes. She crouched down, her fingers tracing the edges of the disturbance. The imprint of a rifle bipod, the mark of a boot heel. Signs of the shooter's presence.

"He was here," Rachel said, her voice low and steady. "Set up shop, waited for his target."

Ethan nodded, his eyes scanning the surrounding area. "No shell casings. Professional job."

Rachel stood, her hand resting on the butt of her holstered gun. The metal was warm against her palm, a familiar comfort.She turned to face the crime scene below, the distant figures of the other officers and the coroner milling about like ants.

She studied the body from afar, taking in the details. Rebecca's hair fanned out around her head, almost as if she were sleeping.

"We need to get forensics up here," Rachel said, her voice breaking the stillness. "Comb every inch of this spot. If there's anything left behind, I want it found."

Ethan nodded, already reaching for his radio. Rachel turned back to the horizon, her eyes searching the vast expanse of the desert. Somewhere out there, the killer was hiding. Waiting. But she would find them, no matter how long it took.

Ethan frowned, his brow furrowed in thought. "But why handcuff her first? If the sniper's goal was to kill, why bother restraining the victim?"

Rachel paused, considering the question. Her mind raced through possibilities, trying to make sense of the killer's actions. "It's possible they were toying with her.”

Ethan's eyes widened, a look of disgust crossing his features. "You think the sniper's some kind of sadist?"

Rachel nodded, her jaw clenched tight. "It fits the profile. The careful planning, the choice of location, the unnecessary restraints. This isn't just about the kill. It's about control, domination."

She scanned the area around them, her senses on high alert. The desert stretched out in all directions, an endless sea of sand and scrub brush. Somewhere out there, a killer lurked, watching and waiting for their next move.

Ethan's voice broke through her thoughts, his tone grim. "We need to find this bastard, Rae.”

She didn’t reply. Didn’t see the need to.

Rachel moved forward, her boots sinking into the soft sand with each step. Eyes narrowed, she scanned the ground,searching for any sign of the sniper's passage. Ethan followed close behind, his hand resting on the butt of his holstered gun.

The heat shimmered off the dunes. Rachel ignored the discomfort, her focus solely on the task at hand. On the hunt, she often felt most in touch with her heritage. How often had her people hunted this land? She’d grown up on the reservation but had left her past behind.

Now, the hunt was all she had left.

Suddenly, she froze. There, barely visible amidst the shifting sands, was a faint indentation. A footprint, partially obscured but still discernible to her trained eye.

"Ethan." Rachel's voice was low, urgent. She pointed to the mark. "Look."

Ethan crouched down, studying the impression. "Could be anything. An animal, maybe."

Rachel shook her head. "No. It's a boot print. And there's more." She gestured to a series of faint disturbances in the sand leading away from the dune. "A trail."

Ethan frowned. "It's barely there." Ethan was a pro when it came to interrogations and navigating social politics, but his experience didn't entail tracking.

"Trust me." Rachel's tone left no room for doubt. "Whoever made this knew what they were doing. They tried to cover their tracks, but they missed a spot."

She straightened up, squinting against the glare of the sun. The trail stretched out before them, disappearing into the distance. A sense of foreboding settled in her gut, a chill that had nothing to do with the desert heat.

"We need to follow it." Rachel's voice was grim. "But we have to be careful. If the sniper's still out there, they could be watching us."

Ethan nodded, his expression mirroring her own. "Lead the way."

Rachel took point, her steps measured and cautious as she began to follow the trail. The rugged terrain made for slow going, the shifting sands threatening to swallow her boots with each step. Ethan followed close behind, his presence a reassuring constant at her back.

As they walked, the sounds of the crime scene gradually faded, replaced by the eerie silence of the desert. The only noise was the crunch of their footsteps and the occasional whisper of the wind.

Rachel's mind raced as she navigated the treacherous path. She'd tracked plenty of criminals in her time as a Ranger, but this felt different. The sniper's methods, the brutal efficiency of the kill - it spoke to a level of ruthlessness she rarely encountered.

"Why go to all this trouble?" Ethan's voice broke the silence, his words echoing her own thoughts. "Covering their tracks, leaving the body out in the open like that?"

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