Page 55 of Not This Time

Finally, they reached a spot where they could hear the voices of the men on the porch. Rachel motioned for Ethan to stay put, and then she crawled forward, using the shadows and foliage for cover.

Peering through the leaves of a nearby bush, she could see Silas and Jeb sitting on the porch, smoking cigars and talking in low voices. They looked relaxed, but Rachel knew that appearances could be deceiving.

The men were speaking in hushed voices. Rachel watched a few moments longer, then shook her head and began to move away from the porch.

As they stealthily traversed the vast property, Rachel couldn't help but think about the victims. Their unseeing eyes haunted her subconscious.

She frowned, moving along the small incline lined with mulberry bushes, shielding them from view.

She scanned a copse ahead of them, searching the land forsomething.

Light filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting eerie shadows on the damp ground below. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and decaying leaves, their decay a stark reminder of the death that had brought Rachel and Ethan to the Clark farm.

"Over there," Rachel whispered, pointing towards an old horse paddock and a dilapidated pig pen. The rusted hinges on the gate creaked as they carefully pushed it open.

"Be careful," Ethan warned, his voice barely audible. He kept glancing back in the direction of the treeline, where the path led up to the ranch. But so far, no one had spotted them.

Rachel paused long enough to clear their trail, using the edge of her boot toerase any footprints they had left behind. Then, they entered the paddock, their steps muffled by the soft dirt and hay underfoot.

"What are we looking for?" Ethan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Anything that might connect them to the murders," Rachel replied, scanning the area with sharp eyes.

The first paddock was empty, save for a few bales of hay stacked against one corner. Rachel crept forward, studying the ground and approach the second paddock.

The smell hit her before she even got close. It was a mixture of rotting flesh and manure, and Rachel had to fight the urge to gag.

As they approached, she could see that the pen was empty save for a few scraps of feed and a couple of water troughs. But as she looked closer, she noticed something strange.

On one of the troughs, there was a small smear of red. Rachel's heart began to race.

"Ethan, look," she whispered, pointing to the stain. "I think we found something."

Ethan's eyes widened. "Wow. How'd you see that?" he leaned in for a better look.

She just waited.

But Ethan hesitated, shrugging one. "That could be anything. Maybe they just slaughtered a pig."

"Maybe," Rachel agreed.

They moved closer to the trough, examining the stain. It was dry, but still a dark red color. Rachel took out a small plastic baggie and carefully scraped a sample of the blood into it.

They continued to comb the area, searching for clues beneath rotting planks and overturned feeding troughs. The tension between them was palpable, fear and anticipation coiling in their stomachs like a snake ready to strike. Every rustle in the bushes, every snapping twig, sent bolts of adrenaline racing through Rachel's veins.

"Nothing," Ethan muttered with frustration as they came up empty-handed. "What if there's nothing here?"

Before she could reply, her phone buzzed softly in her pocket. She glanced down at the screen, relief flooding her face as she read the message from Thomas Greywolf.

How are things on the ranch?

She hesitated, frowning. Of course, Thomas didn't know they were quite literally on the ranch, but her supervisor had often taken an interest. As the only two who shared the same heritage with the rangers, Thomas had taken her under his wing.

She sent back a quick reply.Fine. I will keep you posted.

She sent the message, then was about to add a follow-up question when she paused.

"Wait," Rachel said suddenly, her eyes narrowing as she spotted something unusual near the edge of the paddock. "What's that over there?"

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