Page 59 of Not This Soon

Ethan Morgan.

He'd watched the two rangers leave a few hours ago. Now they were back. The darkness of the dead of night seeped into early morning.

“Ranger Morgan,” he whispered, staring at the sandy-haired man moving along the parking lot.

Where had they gone?

Of course… heknewwhere they'd been. He checked his phone, where the chaplain assigned to the hospital had warned him.

The text message read,Rangers here. Checking footage.

He scrolled to the photos his old friend had sent him.

The images were blurry, taken from a distance. But they depicted a familiar scene. Rachel and Ethan, standing within asecured room, their backs turned to the camera as they watched the footage.

His gaze lingered on the last image - Rachel pointing urgently at a screen. A cold chill ran down his spine. Had they found him? Had they seen what he did?

His grip tightened around his weapon as he watched Ethan disappear into his car. He made a mental note of this. The detective was alone... vulnerable.

He suppressed a shiver of anticipation.

"Ranger Morgan," he repeated, savoring the taste of the name on his tongue. The weaker of the two rangers. Too trusting. Didn't Ethan know Rachel Blackwood was a danger? A menace?

He needed to help Ethan to realize. Tosavehim from the coming pain.

Suddenly, the sounds of distant sirens filled the air, echoing eerily through the arid expanse. He lowered his scope and turned his attention back to his phone. The screen glowed ominously in the darkness.

APB out, it read, Suspect: white male, red cap, green sedan, partial plate GT4.

His heart pounded in his chest. They were closing in... faster than he'd expected.

A fresh surge of anticipation washed over him. This was part of the thrill - the chase. They thought they had him cornered, but that was far from reality.

He stowed away his scope and turned the ATV's engine to life with a swift jerk of his wrist. The roar echoed through the silence of the predawn hours.

Looking back one last time at the distant crime scene, he relished in the sight - chaos and confusion reigned under flickering police lights.

Humming under his breath, he veered away, down the dune.

He sped up the dusty desert trail, racing in the direction of the parking lot near the crime scene.

He needed to help. Tosave.To protect.

His body ached. Pain up and down his wrist and arms. His shoulder throbbed.

He needed to see it through.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

They’d returned to the crime scene. It was the way of the hunter, to find the scent and pursue it.

Rachel Blackwood stepped out of her unmarked vehicle, the soles of her boots crunching against the gravel scattered across the asphalt. The flashing red and blue lights from the police cruisers cast an eerie glow across the crime scene, illuminating the grim faces of the officers milling about. A bitter, metallic tang hung in the air, mixing with the acrid smell of exhaust fumes from the idling engines.

She surveyed the area, her keen eyes taking in every detail. Yellow police tape cordoned off a section near the base of the Corpus Christie bridge, where a white sheet draped over motionless forms. Rachel's jaw clenched, a familiar sense of resolve settling in her gut.

She turned away from the corpse, though, and instead moved towards the bridge. This particular predator was now solidifying in her mind, and she felt as if she had a better idea of who she was chasing.

She turned towards the bridge. The highest structure.

---