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It didn’t seem right.
None of this felt right.
And women were dead.
She drove rapidly, moving swiftly to the rendezvous with Ethan at the suspect’s location.
And then her phone vibrated. She glanced down. A message from Ethan Morgan.
On it. Found him. Where are you?
Found him.
She let out a long sigh of relief.
Custody?she wrote back.
Affirmative,came the quick reply.
And only then did she stop, slowly driving off to the shoulder of the road, her eyes heavy, exhaustion weighing on her.
She put the car in park, idling in the morning light.
Her eyes kept drooping.
She was so damn tired.
And as her head dipped, the thought of driving back to a motel seemed… unlikely at best. A hassle at worst.
No…
No, these seats were perfectly comfortable.
Her mind began to drift… and darkness closed in, even as the engine rumbled.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Rachel woke to someone knocking on the parked car’s window. She blinked sleep from her eyes, trying to regain her senses.
She blinked and looked up, noticing a figure peering through the window.
She reached out, trying to roll down the window. But it was stuck.
She frowned, glanced with a shaky gaze toward the dash.
“Shit.”
The car had run out of gas, idling for who knew how long.
She blinked a few times, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and then slowly pushed open the door.
The tall, smiling frame of Ethan Morgan stood out against the backdrop of sunlight.
“Howdy, partner,” he said, his southern drawl even more pronounced than usual.
“Ethan,” she muttered, giving a quick nod.
She leaned back, reclining her head against the seat and trying to catch her bearings.
