Page 23 of Not This Way

CHAPTER NINE

Rachel and Ethan slowly raised their hands. Rachel turned warily. A man emerged from behind a cluster of cactuses, a shotgun trained on them. He was tall and wiry, with sun-weathered skin and a wild look in his eyes.

“Who are you?” Rachel asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“I’m the owner of this here nursery,” the man spat. “And you two are trespassing on private property.”

“We’re with the Texas Rangers,” Ethan said, holding up his badge. “We need to ask you a few questions.”

The man sneered. “I ain’t got nothing to say to no cops.” His eyes narrowed, fixating on Rachel. “I seen you here before.”

She just watched him. “I’ve never been here, sir.”

“Well… then someone like you fair enough.”

She let out a slow breath, lowering her hands.

He kept his gun trained, but didn’t react. He looked nervous now, clearly having realized he’d made a mistake, but not wanting to lose face by backing down.

She watched him, a questioning look on her face.

“You thought someone who looked like me had been here before?”

He muttered under his breath. It sounded something like, “Y’all look the same.”

Ethan suddenly scowled, his hands lowered now as well. “Lower your weapon,” he snapped. “Now!” The ever-present friendliness in Ethan’s voice vanished in that moment. She glanced over at him, but he was still glaring at the man with the gun.

Rachel took a step forward, keeping her hands lowered. “We’re investigating a murder case, and we have reason to believe that the red dust used in your nursery might be connected.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he lowered the shotgun slightly. “What are you talking about?”

“Talking about exactly what I said,” she replied softly.

She didn’t make a big deal about his stereotyping her. She was used to it. The people on the rez saw her as a traitor because she worked with the Rangers. But people outside the res saw her as an outsider.

Not everyone. She’d often found good folk who didn’t care a lick. She forced herself to dwell on them rather than men like this.

She wasn’t sure she could’ve stayed sane otherwise.

But it bit. A casual sting that occurred whenever she was confronted by it.

The same sting she received when being excluded by the people she’d grown up with on the rez.

“I ain’t heard nothing about no murder,” the man said, his sun-bleached features like a wrinkled, worn map. He shrugged. “When was this?”

She didn’t reply. Instead, she said, “We need a customer and employee list. Spanning the last two weeks.”

He frowned now. “You got a warrant?”

She shook her head. “Do I need one?”

“Yeah. Need a warrant.”

“Alright,” she said softly. “But I’m going to have to ask you to close down until then.”

He stared at her. “What?”

“This might be a crime scene,” Ethan cut in, a bit eager again. “Can’t have people traipsing over things. Need to shut down for a bit. Shouldn’t take long for a warrant. Few days?” he said, glancing at Rachel.

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