Chapter Five
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Emma stared at the cold case board, the pictures and words blurring together. She blinked to refocus, and that helped. But the bone-weary fatigue was trying to claim what was left of her energy.
She suspected it was the same for Ryker.
They’d taken their showers, ordered in greasy tacos from the diner up the street, and set up camp in the cold case office like they were preparing for battle.
Emma felt like she’d already lost a few rounds.
A dozen files were spread out across the table. The digital wall glowed softly, displaying their evidence map, timelines, and the photos of every body, every mask, every threat. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, frustration crawling beneath her skin like a rash she couldn’t scratch.
They weren’t getting anywhere.
“Nothing?” Ryker asked from across the table, his voice low, half distracted as he scrolled through call logs on his laptop.
“Voicemail,” Emma muttered. “Again. That’s three missed calls and four texts. Charlotte’s not answering.”
Ryker didn’t look surprised. “Maybe she’s in hiding.”
Emma made a sound of agreement. “If I found out my blood was used to write a threat on a dummy meant to scare the hell out of my brother’s ex-fiancée, I’d at least call someone back.”
“She’s either terrified,” Ryker said, “or involved.”
Emma didn’t want to admit how much that second possibility made her stomach twist. Charlotte adored Ethan, which meant the woman had plenty of reason to hate Emma.
But had Charlotte been the one behind the trigger at the oil field? The one who set the explosive beneath the body?
Emma shook her head, jaw tight.
“I just don’t see her doing that kind of damage,” she admitted. “She’s bitter, sure. But shooting at cops? Planting a bomb? That feels like something else.”
“Or someone else,” Ryker added.
Emma’s gaze drifted back to the evidence board. Ethan’s photo stared down at her like a ghost who never really left. She didn’t know if he was alive. She didn’t know if he was pulling the strings or if he was just the face someone else was using to tear her life apart.
But one thing was becoming terrifyingly clear, whoever they were, they weren’t finished.
The door creaked open and Hallie stepped inside, looking as if she’d been running on fumes for hours. Her hair was pulled back in a hasty twist, and the tired look in her eyes told Emma she wasn’t the only one feeling the weight of the day.
“We got something,” Hallie said. “CSIs recovered the ring from the oil field. The one you saw on the body.”
Emma sat up straighter. “They find anything else?”
“Bits of the body are at the lab now,” Hallie replied. “Not much left, but the ME’s working on it. Ring’s going through trace and print analysis. Might give us something useful.”
Emma didn’t say anything. She just nodded, even as frustration gnawed deeper. “Might” wasn’t good enough. They needed answers. If that was Ethan’s body, then it changed the entire focus of the investigation.
Hallie glanced between the two of them. “I’m heading home before I fall asleep in my office chair. You two should do the same.”
She turned toward the door, then paused and looked back.
“Someone’s gunning for you, Emma. You both know it. So do me a favor, watch your back.”
Then she was gone, leaving the door half-closed behind her and the warning hanging in the air.
Ryker turned in his chair to face her, and Emma knew what was coming before he said a word. “I don’t want you going home alone tonight.”
She opened her mouth to argue. She was a cop. Trained. Armed. Not someone who needed hand-holding or babysitting. But the words died on her tongue.
Because Hallie was right.
Someone wanted her dead. And she wasn’t stupid enough to make it easy for them.
“Are you offering to stay with me?” Emma asked.
Ryker met her eyes, steady and unwavering. “No,” he said. “I’m insisting.”
Emma held his gaze, steady and calm on the surface, but underneath, the heat that always simmered around Ryker flared to life again, just like it had earlier in the cold case room.
The line between comfort and something far more dangerous was razor-thin, and right now, she felt like she was teetering on the edge of it.
The way he was looking at her, solid, protective, all-in, it tugged something low and familiar in her gut. Something she’d shoved down for weeks. Maybe longer.
And yeah, it scared the hell out of her.
Not because she didn’t want it.
Because she did.
And that heat… it had a mind of its own. It wasn’t backing down anytime soon.
Fine. She’d just have to be careful. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now. Not when the shadows were getting closer.
She pushed up from the chair and crossed her arms, half a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You know the last two guys who got involved with me didn’t exactly walk away unscathed.”
Ryker didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, well… if someone torches my truck, I’ll just consider it a down payment on catching the bastard.”
His voice was smooth, confident, but there was something deeper beneath it, something that said he wasn’t going anywhere.
Emma felt her stomach flip. Not fear this time. Something warmer.
She met his eyes. “Just don’t get yourself shot.”
He grinned. “Only if you promise not to take on this investigation solo.”
She didn’t promise. But she didn’t argue either.
Emma had just grabbed her coat from the back of the chair when her phone lit up on the table. She paused mid-movement, heart giving a little jolt when she saw the caller ID.
Charlotte Ross.
She exchanged a glance with Ryker, who arched a brow but said nothing. Emma answered and immediately hit speaker.
“Charlotte,” she said.
Charlotte’s voice came sharp and fast. “Haven’t you done enough to destroy my life without harassing me now? What the hell do you want?”
Emma kept her tone even. “You need to come in for an interview. First thing tomorrow morning. We have questions about an attack and a dead body found earlier today.”
There was a beat of silence, then Charlotte snapped, “A what? What are you talking about?”
Emma met Ryker’s steady eyes. “Check the news, Charlotte. A body was found at the oil field outside of town.”
Another pause. Then Charlotte’s voice came through, brittle and unsteady. “Is it Ethan?”
“We don’t know yet,” Emma replied. “Forensics is working on it.”
There was a sharp inhale on the other end of the line, then a shift in Charlotte’s tone, still angry, but laced with something colder. “Why are you calling me about this?”
Emma didn’t blink. “Because your DNA was found at a related scene.”
“What DNA?” Charlotte demanded. “What the hell does that mean?”
Emma didn’t offer specifics. “It was recovered from a note. One that included a threat, directed at me.”
Charlotte’s voice came back, low and uneven. “I haven’t written any threatening notes, Emma.”
Emma didn’t react. “Then you should have no problem coming in to talk about it. Tomorrow at nine?”
A pause. Hesitation. Ryker stood still beside her, watching the phone like it might explode.
Charlotte’s voice came quieter this time. “Have you seen Ethan?”
The question hit harder than Emma expected. She blinked, caught off guard. “You’ve been adamant that your brother’s dead. That I’m the one who killed him.”
“I still believe that’s what could have happened,” Charlotte said, her tone sharpening again. “I haven’t seen him since the wedding reception. That night he stormed out… I thought that was the end of it.”
Emma’s pulse kicked up, but she kept her voice level. “Then why ask?”
There was another pause. Then Charlotte said, “Because I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.
Can’t get him out of my head. I started going through my old phone, looking at the pictures I took at the reception.
I saw something in several of the photos.
Something I hadn’t noticed before. Ethan’s therapist, she was there. At the reception. Did you know that?”
Emma felt the words land like a stone in her chest. “No. I didn’t.”
But even as she said it, her mind spun. There had been so many faces at that reception, friends, coworkers, plus-ones. If Dr. Maris Colvin had been there, Emma wouldn’t have recognized her. She’d never met the woman.
Emma cleared her throat. “Are you sure it was her? You knew her?”
“No,” Charlotte admitted. “Ethan mentioned her once or twice. But I didn’t know what she looked like. Not then. I ran facial recognition on the reception photos. That’s how I found her.”
Emma’s brows lifted. “And what was she doing in the photos?”
Charlotte hesitated again. “I’ll send them to you. It’s easier if you just see it for yourself.”
There was a long beat of silence before Charlotte added, “For years, I believed you killed Ethan. But after seeing these pictures… now I’m wondering if she did.”
Emma blinked, stunned. “His therapist?”
Charlotte didn’t answer with words. A moment later, Emma’s phone buzzed with a text. Then another. And another. Three photos.
Each one came with a brief caption.
First photo: Before the argument, Charlotte had noted.
In this shot, Emma saw Ethan smiling, glass in hand. Dr. Maris Colvin was standing behind him, looking at him, not casually. Not passively. Watching him as if she’s in love with him.
Second photo: Mid-argument, Charlotte had spelled out.
Emma remembered that moment. The shouting. The phone was in Ethan’s hand with the naked photo of Janette. Dr. Colvin was visible in the background, stunned. She was close, close enough to have seen the screen.
Third photo: After, was the label Charlotte had put on this one.
Here, Ethan had turned away, clearly angry. Dr. Colvin was still in frame. Her expression was nothing like before, not with hurt, not with confusion.
She was glaring at him.
Not with hurt. Not with confusion. With something colder. Like she wanted him dead.
Emma stared at the screen, blood rushing in her ears.
She hadn’t even known the woman was there.
But now… it was burned into her brain. And just like that, the web twisted tighter, with one more suspect caught in the strands.
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