Page 16 of Not This Way

“A glitch? Coincidence?”

“You believe in those?”

“Glitches, yeah.”

She shook her head, frowning.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking maybe we haven’t found everything there is to find in the earth.”

“What?” Morgan blinked at her, his pronounced jawline growing even sharper as he went still. “You mean… likeanotherbody?”

She shrugged. “Gonna have to shut things down after all… and go digging.”

“Huh. Well, shit.”

CHAPTER SIX

The scorching sun beat down on the barren oil fields, shimmering off the rusty pumpjacks that dotted the landscape. Rachel wiped the sweat off her brow, her boots crunching on the gravel as she walked toward the cluster of officers in the distance.

She tilted the brim of her pale hat back, allowing the breeze to assuage her warm features.

Two bodies lay sprawled on the ground, pale limbs splayed at impossible angles. Blonde hair matted with blood and dirt, tattered sundresses offering no protection from the elements. Bruises already blossoming along their ankles and wrists were visible past the black sludge from the oil.

Rachel swallowed hard, clenching her jaw.

Her hunch had been right.

A body at sensor nine.

Another at sensor twenty-two.

She glanced back toward the oil fields where more police and response vehicles were combing the oil fields. Excavators had been brought up, and cranes were being used to clear paths for the search teams to look for any other hidden corpses.

Three bodies total so far.

Would they find more?

She pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket and crouched beside the nearest victim. Young, maybe early twenties. The calluses on her hands suggested she was no stranger to hard labor.

Rachel traced a finger along the jagged wound slicing across the woman’s throat. Deep. Precise. The work of someone highly skilled.

Her stomach churned as she peered at the other body. Nearly identical lacerations. No signs of a struggle. Whoever did this wanted the women immobilized. Vulnerable.

Bile rose in Rachel’s throat. She gritted her teeth against the rage simmering inside her.

She stood up slowly, scanning the crime scene with a practiced eye. Somewhere in this sea of chaos lay the clues she needed. The breadcrumb trail to lead her straight to the reaper’s door. In the distance, police lights flashed against the azure sky—a chaotic ballet of red and blue.

A figure was approaching them. A middle-aged woman, wearing a scowl as deep as the ridges along her dark brow.

The woman stepped over dusty terrain, frowning at the two of them. When she caught Rachel’s eye, she gestured for her to approach.

Rachel picked her way across the rocky terrain, her boots crunching on gravel and sand as she drew near the approaching coroner.

The coroner in question didn’t wear a lab coat, didn’t look professional. She wore a dusty sweater and sweats.

But Dr. Avery was one of the best in the business, and Rachel had worked with the woman on more than one occasion. The two new bodies lay behind Rachel, discarded like refuse.

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