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Evil roamed beside them; she’d seen enough murder and violence to know that was true.
Bethenny blew out a long breath.
“I’m going to find who did this to her,” she said through clenched teeth.
LACHLAN
He looked up at Bethenny, her expression stony; her voice was deep, a threat.
He didn’t think for a second that she wouldn’t follow through on the promise she’d just made.
He respected her for that.
And he respected her for the brave career she’d forged.
Bethenny Monroe might not realize it, but she was a local hero, and Lachlan was beginning to understand why. She had a presence—one even he couldn’t deny, and he wasn’t drawn to women easily.
Only one woman had ever held his interest.
His wife.
Hislatewife.
He swallowed hard, the pain was like a knife to his heart even two years later.
They say time heals all wounds, but Lachlan couldn’t agree with that. He thought he’d carry that wound forever, and he knew that’s why he hadn’t been in a relationship since. It was hard to have feelings for someone when you couldn’t let go of the past.
“Lachlan?” Bethenny asked, raising an eyebrow.
He shook his head. “Sorry, what?” He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
“I’m going to survey the area around here. Considering the rain has turned most of the dirt to mud, I think it’s probably pointless, but it’s still worth a shot. I’ll do a quick walk and see if I notice anything unusual,” she said with a nod.
He looked past Bethenny to the raging storm surrounding them.
He paused, suddenly not wanting her to go out alone. But if anyone didn’t need protection, that person was Bethenny Monroe. Despite her warm persona, he knew she was tough as nails.
“Sure. Be careful,” he said, immediately regretting it. He meant to be polite—he certainly didn’t mean to sound patronizing.
But Bethenny nodded and turned on her heel. He watched her walk away, feeling uneasy. He shrugged it off and returned his attention to the crime scene. He tried to guess how old the victim was, but it was difficult given the dirt that still remained on her skin. Finally, he guessed she had been in her twenties, but he wouldn’t bet his life on it.
He kept brushing over her abdomen and the more of her decomposing body he revealed, the more the scent of rotting flesh made his stomach turn.
He scrunched up his nose as he looked at the wound. It took considerable physical power to dismember a body like this. The killer would’ve needed a weapon; a machete perhaps, though he knew an axe could do the job. A previous case he’d worked on had involved as much.
But why cut the victim in half?
And where was the rest of her body buried?
His eyes dropped to his watch as he noted the time. There wasn’t a lot more he could do until the crime-scene team arrived and collected the body. He took a few more photographs, his eyes lingering on the mark on her hand.
He shook his head. The entire case was weird.
He’d come to Redwater to start over—for a quieter life. A new city, a new house, a new start... or so he’d prayed, because he’d needed God’s strength to get through the last two years. It was the only thing that had kept him going this long. Without God as his constant companion he wouldn’t have been able to get up in the morning.
It was a hard thing to lose the love of your life.
It was even harder when it was your fault.
