Page 10 of Not This Way

She stared at him.

He smiled. “They never outpace me. Nowrun!”

She screamed, breaking into a sprint, racing in the opposite direction.

He watched her flee, enjoying the sight.

And then he broke into a canter of his own until the night swallowed them both.

CHAPTER FOUR

Rachel stepped outside the Austin headquarters, her boots crunching on the gravel. A black sedan idled near the entrance, exhaust curling from its tailpipe into the crisp morning air.

Must be her new partner. She sighed, walking over and peering into the driver’s side window. A man glanced up, startled. “Ranger Blackwood?”

“That’s me.”

He scrambled out of the car, hand extended. “Ethan Morgan. Homicide PD, newly transferred. I guess that makes me a Ranger now.” He beamed at her.

Rachel shook his hand once, releasing it quickly. She knew his name and rank, nothing more. The brass shuffled partners often, but she preferred working alone. Few could keep up—quite literally. She was fleet-footed.

Ethan opened the passenger door. Rachel slid inside, leather creaking, and stared out the window as he settled into the driver’s seat.

“So, uh, you’ve been a Ranger how long?” Ethan asked, voice tentative.

Rachel kept her response curt. “Five years.”

“Impressive.” A pause. “This your first big case?”

Her jaw tightened. She said nothing. No need to scare him on his first day.

Ethan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, shifting into gear.

The sedan rolled forward, buildings blurring outside Rachel’s window. Her fingers curled into fists on her thighs. She had a job to do, and personal feelings didn’t factor into it. But Captain Smith had gone out of his way to browbeat her.

Likely, he wanted—expected—her to fail.

But she’d faced worse before.

Still, she couldn’t ignore the twinge in her gut. The heiress’s murder would attract publicity, and she despised politics. But if it led to the truth, she’d weather the storm.

Ethan was speaking again, and she picked up on his thick, southern drawl now. The more comfortable he got, the more it came out.

She glanced at him. He had freckles and close-cut, military hair. His jaw and cheekbones were pronounced, suggesting a very low body-fat percentage.

Her eyes slipped down his tight, button-up flannel, and she wondered if the rest of him matched.

Ethan’s dark brown hair was trimmed neatly but with a slight hint of ruggedness and the occasional cowlick lending him an endearing touch of boyishness.

He noticed her attention and glanced over with a wink. “Like what you see?”

Instantly, he seemed to realize this wasn’t proper for fellow coworkers meeting for the first time.

“Shit, sorry. I’m nervous. I joke when I’m nervous.” He grimaced in her direction.

She didn’t comment. She’d been considering the size of his abdominal muscles, so she decided they were even.

As they left the city, Rachel stared out the window as scrubby fields whipped by, broken only by ramshackle barns and livestock. The familiar sight usually calmed her, but today it only amplified her tension.

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