Page 19 of Not This Soon

She frowned. “A sadist… but… what if…”

Ethan studied her.

“What if that’s backwards?”

“How so?”

"What if he was taking her out of her misery? What if the snakebit was… that was seen as a horrible way to die. Right? What if he got cold feet? What if he shot her to speed up the death?"

“You’re saying he showed her mercy by shooting her? Doesn’t explain the snake. Tying her out here. Doesn’t explain shooting at us.”

“Two killers?”

“Two personalities?” Ethan said. “It’s possible…”

Rachel sighed. She glanced once again at a picture of the cartel pendant found near the body. A red herring?

“So what now?” Ethan asked. “The search could take all night.”

“Could take all week,” Rachel murmured.

Part of her wanted to tip back her white hat, to march forward and join the search parties. But another part of her knew that the best use of her time was to approach this from multiple angles.

Staring at the pendant, she slipped it into her pocket. "I'm going to meet with the family," she said, her gaze settling on Ethan. "And I'm going to push them a little bit."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You think they're hiding something?"

"I think they're scared," Rachel replied. "Something's going on. Maybe they know more than they're letting on. Or maybe... maybe they know exactly who's behind this, and they're afraid for their lives."

Ethan nodded, understanding, lighting his eyes. Families often held secrets and hidden fears that only came to light under the harsh glare of a murder investigation.

"Alright," he agreed, stepping back from the map. "I'll coordinate here. See if we can find the bastard.”

Rachel reached out, placing a steady hand on his shoulder as he turned to leave. "

Ethan, remember," she cautioned, her gaze meeting his. "This guy's injured but still dangerous. Assume he's armed and ready for a fight."

He offered her a tight nod, a hint of a smile touching his lips despite the grim situation. "Thanks, Rae. I'll keep that in mind."

She watched him go, then turned back to the map once more. Every instinct screamed at her to join the search, to hunt down the man responsible for Rebecca's death, but she knew she had a different role to play now.

Two angles. A two pronged approach.

Racing off into the desert wouldn’t help anyone. But finding out what the Morris’ knew? It could change the game.

She let out a slow, leaking sigh, and then adjusted her hat and marched away from the coordinated search efforts.

***

Rachel watched the Morris’ from a distance, studying their body language. She saw the way Rebecca’s mother clung to her husband, her face a mask of frozen grief. Father stood tall despite the weight of despair that visibly hung from his shoulders. He was doing his best to hold himself together - for his wife's sake no doubt.

But as she watched Mr. Morris closer, she realized it was something else. He wasn’t quite trying to comfort his wife. Rather, he stood coldly at her side, wearing a deep frown. He occasionally arose from the chair he’d been given in the interview room, and he would pace back and forth.

He had the appearance of a well-to-do career man:

sharp suit, polished shoes, well-groomed hair. Yet, despite this carefully crafted exterior, Rachel could see the cracks beginning to show. His fists were balled up at his sides, his jaw set tight. There was a fire in his eyes that didn't match the quiet despair of someone simply mourning a loss.

Still, she knew better than to jump to conclusions. Appearances could be deceiving.

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