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Another pause. "What's this about?"
"About Anna Longshadow. The night she—"
"Know nothing about no Anna," a gruff voice interrupted from the other side, the words spoken as if through gritted teeth.
"Mr. Boyd, we can do this the easy way," Rachel countered, her resolve unshaken. "Or I can come back with a warrant."
A beat passed, then another. Finally, locks clicked, and the door opened a crack. A sliver of a man appeared, his features obscured by the room's dimness and the fall of cloud cover outside. Eyes that had seen too much peeked out at them, wary.
"Talk then," he grumbled, opening the door wider to a room scantily furnished, the walls bearing the ghosts of photographs long taken down.
She registered the details—the musty smell of disuse, a table set for one, papers scattered as though in haste.
Now, the police cruiser behind them had come to a stop on the side of the road. Rachel could feel the eyes peering out at her through the tinted windows. For now, though, it just sat and watched, like some bird of prey, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.
"A woman named Anna Longshadow was supposed to meet someone the night she...disappeared," Ethan started, his gaze flicking to Rachel before continuing. "We have reason to believe that was you."
"Reason to believe a lot of things," Boyd retorted, his stance defensive. Rachel caught the slight tremor in his hands, the way his eyes darted to a corner of the room.
Boyd had a scruffy
beard, his unkempt hair falling into his eyes as he peered at them suspiciously. His face was weathered, etched with lines that told tales of a difficult life. Deep-set eyes, the color of faded denim, held a weariness.
His frame was thin and wiry, as if years of hardship had whittled away at his once sturdy physique. A faded flannel shirt hung loosely on his bony shoulders, the fabric worn and threadbare. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms marked by scars and calloused hands that spoke of a life lived by toil and labor.
Boyd's hands trembled slightly as he nervously tugged at the frayed edges of his shirt. Rachel couldn't help but notice the dirt under his nails.
His face was tanned from long hours spent under the sun, lines etched deeply around his mouth and eyes. His nose bore the remnants of an old injury, slightly crooked from a past altercation.
As Boyd shifted uneasily on his feet, Rachel's eyes traveled downward to his worn-out boots. They were scuffed and caked with dirt.
He noticed her gaze and frowned. "Was doing some yardwork."
She just shrugged.
"What do you want from me?" he snapped.
"Let's start with the truth," Rachel pressed, her voice firm. "It's the only thing that'll clear the air."
"Air's fine as it is," Boyd snapped.
"Mr. Boyd," she said, her tone softening just enough to be considered an offer rather than a command. This was more Ethan's realm, but she knew that one often caught more flies with honey. "I just need to know," she said softly, "why was Anna calling you the night she disappeared?"
He opened his mouth as if ready to talk, but then went still. His eyes had widened, and they were peering past Rachel towards an approaching figure.
She turned.
"Rangers," a voice rumbled from the street, the syllables heavy with barely restrained anger. Kai Dawes emerged from the shadow of the parked vehicle, flanked by two burly figures, their postures rigid as fence posts.
Rachel turned slowly, trying to keep her frustration in check.
"Deputy Dawes," Ethan acknowledged, his own voice steady but edged like a knife held against the skin. Their eyes locked, two forces in a silent battle of wills.
"Boyd ain't talking to anyone else tonight," Kai declared, his words hanging between them like a dare. "Hey Boyd," Kai called out. "Walter Boyd, right. That's you?"
He had a shark-like quality to his gaze as he fixated on their suspect.
Rachel felt the prickle of adrenaline, the wind carrying the weight of unspoken threats. Her gaze flickered to the deputy's clenched fists, his friends' shifting stances. She pushed back the coil of fear, letting the cold resolve settle in her veins.
