Page 62 of Not This Soon

Then she saw it. Ethan's car, parked at the far end of the lot. The driver's side door was ajar, and there was a dark stain on the pavement beneath it.

Rachel's blood ran cold. She drew her gun, moving cautiously towards the vehicle. "Ethan?"

No response. She edged closer, her finger hovering over the trigger. The stain on the ground was red and slick. Blood.

And the car was empty.

No sign of her partner.

Ethan was nowhere to be seen.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The distinctive tread of ATV tracks carved a path through the sand ahead of her. Rachel gripped the steering wheel, her knuckles white as she pushed the accelerator to the floor. Ethan's car lurched forward, kicking up a spray of grit in its wake.

She tried not to focus on the bloodstain on the carpet at her feet. Nor did she allow the creeping dread to seep into her bones.

Her eyes narrowed, locked on the trail. She swerved around a cluster of scraggly bushes, the chassis shuddering as it cleared the rough terrain.

The night pressed in around her, broken only by the stark white beams of the headlights. They illuminated the tracks of the ATV leading through the sandy dunes, the only lifeline she had to finding her partner. To finding the killer.

Rachel's breath came hard and fast. Every second counted. Ethan was out there somewhere, at the mercy of a murderer. The same murderer who had butchered two women.

A shudder rippled through her. She couldn't let history repeat itself. She wouldn't.

The tracks veered sharply to the right, disappearing over the crest of a dune. Rachel yanked the wheel, the tires skidding across the loose sand as she fought to keep the vehicle under control.

She crested the dune, the car going airborne for a heart-stopping second before slamming back to earth. The suspension groaned in protest, but Rachel barely registered it.

Her attention was fixed on the landscape ahead, her mind working furiously to decipher the signs left behind by the killer. The depth of the tread marks, the spacing between them - each detail held a clue.

She followed the trail down into a shallow valley, the car fishtailing as it hit a patch of softer sand. Rachel corrected the slide with a deft twist of the wheel, never losing sight of her quarry.

The tracks skirted the base of a towering butte, the red rock face looming out of the darkness like a sentinel. Rachel scanned the area, searching for any indication of where the killer might have taken Ethan.

But as she drove, the trail seemed to fade… No… no, had she lost it?

She cursed.

She scanned the ground, her heart pounding against her ribs. Nothing. No tracks, no trail, no clues to guide her to Ethan. She ran a hand through her hair, frustration and fear warring within her. Every second lost was another second Ethan was at the mercy of maniac.

Rachel slammed her palm against the car door, the metallic thud echoing through the stillness. She winced, pulling her hand back, and that's when she saw it - a dark, glistening stain on her skin. Blood.

Ethan's blood.

She’d been trying to ignore it. Trying to focus on the controllables… This was the problem with getting too close. This was why she’d never allowed it before.

She released a slow, pent-up breath.

"No, no, no," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Ethan, where are you?"

She closed her eyes, taking a deep, steadying breath. She couldn't afford to lose focus, not now.

She needed to find the trail.

Rachel's phone vibrated in her pocket, the sudden sensation jolting her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing as she saw the notification.

Not now.

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