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"Hello there," she said, studying the evidence of a recent inhabitant. A worn sleeping bag lay crumpled in the corner, surrounded by empty food containers and discarded wrappers.
She ran her fingers along the edge of an empty can, feeling the jagged metal beneath her fingertips. She clenched her jaw, anger simmering beneath the surface.
Rachel's heart pounded against her ribcage, echoing the drumbeat of her ancestors in her ears. The tightness in her chest made it difficult to breathe as she tried to process the implications of someone squatting in her family home. Sweat beaded on her brow, a mixture of fear and anger churning within her.
Someone was squatting in her family's home...
A clue?
No... No, twenty years later. An abandoned house was easy pickings.
But still...
She stared at the sleeping bag, frowning.
Then, she pulled a phone from her pocket and placed a call.
Once it connected, she said curtly, "Greywolf, I need a favor.”
If anyone would do it, it would be her old Ranger friend. He’d been something of a mentor figure to her for years. “Yeah,” she continued at his grunt of a response. “It's Blackwood. I need a camera installed at the following address. Actually, multiple cameras. Every angle. And keep it dl. Don't let anyone know." A pause, a reply. She frowned. “No. Don’t ask why. You gonna do it? Yeah. Thanks.”
She rattled off the rest of the information, frowning as she did, feeling her stomach tightening. Greywolf wasn’t the sort to pry. It was one of the many reasons she liked him so much.
Someone was here, and maybe they had found something. Especially if they'd squatted for years... Maybe they'd stumbled on something... some small clue.
She refused to look in the direction of the shattered window in the kitchen.
The blood-stained glass had long since been cleared.
She hesitated, feeling a flicker of unease, and then turned on her heel, moving swiftly back out of the house.
As she did, her phone rang.
Were the cameras ready to set up so soon?
"Yeah?" She paused, listening.
Then frowned.
A new case.
A welcome challenge. She picked up the pace, moving away from her family's old home.
She refused to admit it to herself, but she was glad for a reason to focus on another hunt. On something far less personal.
She reached her car, tilted the brim of her hat, and slipped into the front seat.
CHAPTER TWO
Rachel sat in the worn leather chair, its stuffing pushing through cracked seams. She leaned forward, forearms on her thighs, hands clasped as she listened intently to Ranger Graywolf.
The single bulb above cast ominous shadows across his weathered face. "We got a body on a ranch—a ranch with deep roots in the area. Belongs to the Clarks.”
She glanced at Ethan Morgan, her partner. His eyes were distant, deep in thought. He had handsome features and kind eyes that often crinkled in the corners when he was smiling. His upbringing couldn't have been more different than hers. He came from a large family with a religious background.
Rachel, on the other hand, had been orphaned at the age of ten.
Still, she liked her new partner--and it helped that he was easy on the eyes.
