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In his mind, he was already plotting his next move, tracing pathways through the rough terrain, considering how best to intercept his quarry.
This wasn't over.
It couldn't be.
The female agent... the one with the white hat...
She was a different breed.
They'd meet again.
And the next time, she wouldn't escape his rifle.
He hurried back to the front seat of his vehicle, but paused. He frowned at the tire tracks on the ground. He'd have to switch tires. Worn tires, muddied. They couldn't appear fresh.
The stench of burning flesh lingered on the air as he slipped into the front seat of his vehicle and tore away from the macabre scene.
CHAPTER SIX
The sun blazed down on the parched earth, casting elongated shadows from the sparse buildings that made up the reservation's spine. Rachel pulled her cruiser into a vacant slot by the sheriff station, gravel crunching under the tires. Her gaze snagged immediately on the solitary figure standing outside the entrance.
She stepped out of the vehicle, but held up a hand, indicating Ethan should stay put. He watched through the windshield, but nodded, showing he understood.
The sheriff was standing outside his office, arms crossed, his features creased. It looked as if he'd been waiting for them to arrive.
Sheriff Dawes turned towards her, his face etched with lines of weariness and resolve. Turquoise beads—a symbol of protection—hung around his neck, stark against the tan of his uniform. The beads swayed slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.
She closed the door behind her, gravel crunching underfoot as she approached the man.
"Rachel," he greeted, voice betraying a strain she knew all too well.
"Dawes." Her reply was curt, professional. She stepped away from the cruiser, eyes darting past him, scanning the vicinity for another presence she half-expected, half-dreaded to see.
No sign of Kai.
Relief washed over her in a silent wave, retreating quickly as she remembered why she was here. As she approached, the sense of relief ebbed completely, replaced by a cold focus.
"Thought I might find your son here," she commented, keeping her tone even. It was both an observation and a probe.
"Kai's off," Dawes replied, the beads clicking softly as he shifted his stance.
"Good." The word slipped out before she could catch it, wrapped in more personal sentiment than she intended. She moved past it, her boots kicking up dust. "We need to talk."
"About?" His brows knitted, defensive walls already rising.
"Let's go in." She gestured toward the station door. She glanced back towards where Ethan watched her from the car.
The sun bore down, relentless and hot, on the parched earth of the reservation. A fine red dust swirled in the breeze, coating everything it touched with a faint ruddy hue. It settled into the creases of Sheriff Dawes's weather-beaten face as he stood, a stoic figure amidst a landscape that demanded resilience.
Ethan, a silent shadow in the cruiser, gave her a nod. Rachel's boots left shallow impressions in the dirt as she moved towards the door of the office, but Dawes remained outside. He made no move to enter.
He just watched her.
"Sheriff," she began, her voice betraying none of the turmoil within. "How did you get the victims' names?"
Sheriff Dawes squinted against the glare, his fingers absently touching the turquoise beads around his neck.
"Anna was recognized," he said tersely. "And the trucker... Kendra... had her ID on her. We left it in the cabin of the vehicle."
