Chapter Eight #2
Ryker leaned forward slightly, his tone calm but direct. “Tell us about your relationship with Ethan.”
Dr. Colvin opened her mouth, but Ryker held up a hand to stop her.
“Before you answer, I already know Ethan didn’t make a single payment to your practice in the six months before he disappeared. I checked the records.”
That made her blink. It was quick, but Ryker caught it.
There was a long pause. Then finally, she spoke.
“Ethan and I… chose to end our professional relationship.”
Emma tilted her head slightly, arms crossed. “Why?”
Dr. Colvin didn’t answer right away. Her gaze stayed on the photos as if she could will them to disappear.
“Because,” she said slowly, “we developed feelings for one another.”
Ryker didn’t move. His voice came flat, even. “You became lovers.”
“I won’t comment on that,” she said, coolly.
Which, to Ryker, was all the confirmation he needed.
He tapped the photo in the center, the one where she was staring at Ethan like he was the only man in the room.
“Good thing pictures don’t need your comment,” he said. “This one right here? It’s worth a whole damn affidavit.”
Emma reached into the folder and pulled out a different photo. “We’re not here to ruin reputations, Dr. Colvin,” Emma said. “We’re here to find answers.”
She laid the image face-up on the table.
It was a crime scene photo, harsh, graphic. A close-up of what was left of Lionel Ruiz. Burned flesh. Bone fragments. The kind of image that clung to the backs of your eyes no matter how many times you blinked.
Dr. Colvin gasped, her hand instinctively lifting to her mouth. “My God,” she whispered.
Ryker didn’t flinch. “Do you believe Ethan could’ve done that?”
Dr. Colvin looked between them, clearly rattled for the first time. “You think he’s capable of something like that?”
“We think he’s a suspect,” Emma said carefully. “And we think he may be alive.”
The words hung in the room like a fog, thick and suffocating. Dr. Colvin shook her head slowly, but there was doubt behind her eyes now. Or maybe fear.
Ryker didn’t press the accusation that he was holding close, but it was simmering there all right. Because if she loved Ethan, and that other photo from the reception said she had, then she could be more than just a grieving former lover.
She could be helping him.
Or worse… avenging him.
Dr. Colvin cleared her throat, as if trying to swallow the horror still lingering after the photo. Her hands had folded tightly on the table again, but her voice was steady when she finally spoke.
“I’m not sure if Ethan is alive,” she said, her gaze drifting from the image to the two of them. “I don’t believe he is. If he were… he would have gotten in touch with me.”
Ryker didn’t say anything, but the thought twisted through him like a knot. That’s almost exactly what Charlotte said. Word for word.
But he wasn’t convinced Ethan would’ve contacted either of them. If he’d truly meant to disappear, if he’d burned his life to the ground before vanishing, why drag anyone from his past into the light now?
Unless, of course, that was the plan all along.
Emma leaned in slightly, her tone low and direct. “If Ethan murdered someone, we need to find him before he kills again. But if he didn’t, if he’s still out there, he could be a target. Someone may be trying to draw him out.”
Ryker decided that targeting and drawing him out was a smart angle. He didn’t necessarily believe it, but it was good leverage. And judging by the way Dr. Colvin’s posture stiffened, it landed right where it needed to.
Her eyes widened just a fraction. “You think… someone’s trying to kill him?”
Emma didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence work for her. And it did. Because Dr. Colvin’s lips parted, and then, quietly, she started talking.
“Ethan always said he had enemies,” the doctor said, eyes flicking between them. “Fellow cops who resented his success. People he’d arrested. People who felt like he’d taken something from them.”
She paused, then looked directly at Emma.
“You,” Colvin added, evenly. “He believed you were using him. That you were only with him to get ahead at Austin PD. That once you’d advanced far enough, you’d leave him behind.”
Emma didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. Her expression remained unreadable, her hands steady on the table.
But Ryker? He felt the muscle in his jaw tighten.
Because he’d seen how it was. Ethan hadn’t been the one used. He’d been the one doing the using.
The gaslighting. The manipulation. The slow erosion of Emma’s confidence until she’d barely recognized herself, Ryker had watched it unfold from a distance, and now he was watching the fallout up close.
Ryker leaned back slightly in his chair, keeping his expression neutral, but inside, he was already filing this moment away. Because Dr. Colvin wasn’t just sharing information. She was revealing what Ethan had let her believe. And that, more than anything, told Ryker how deep this ran.
Ryker kept his voice calm but firm, leaning in just slightly.
“Dr. Colvin,” he said, “help us understand him. Help us find him, before it’s too late.”
She hesitated, eyes flicking once more to the photo of Ruiz before she finally exhaled and gave a small nod. “Ethan could be… obsessive,” she said slowly. “Especially when it came to justice. To being misunderstood. He hated being questioned. Hated being wrong. Even when he was.”
Ryker watched her closely. There was a shift in her voice, less clinical now. More personal.
“He used to talk about something he called his Reset Plan,” the doctor added.
Emma straightened a little. “What did he mean by that?”
Dr. Colvin folded her hands tightly, gaze fixed somewhere just beyond the table. “He wanted a clean slate. To start over. Somewhere no one knew him. Where the past couldn’t follow him. He didn’t want redemption, he wanted erasure.”
Another pause, this one longer. Ryker didn’t rush her.
Finally, she looked back at them. “There was a time… we talked about leaving together. Starting fresh. That was part of the plan. A new city, new names, no baggage.” Dr. Colvin’s jaw tightened, and a flicker of something sharp flashed in her eyes.
“But then,” she said, voice clipped, “I saw the photo. On his phone.”
She didn’t have to say which photo.
Janette. Nude. Sent to Ethan. Proof that whatever promises he’d made, he was still playing games.
The anger flared in Dr. Colvin’s eyes, just for a breath. Then she swallowed it, smoothing it down like pressed linen. “That’s when I realized Ethan wasn’t ready for a committed relationship,” she murmured.
Emma didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But Ryker didn’t miss the way her chin lifted, the flicker of steel in her silence. He was willing to bet that’s the exact moment Emma had figured that out, too.
Dr. Colvin cleared her throat, soft, polite, but final. Then she stood, brushing invisible wrinkles from her jacket and smoothing her expression back into its cool, professional mask.
“I think I’ve said enough for now,” she said. “I need to consult my attorney before continuing any further discussion about Ethan.”
Ryker gave a slight nod and reached for the recorder.
“Interview concluded,” he said, citing the exact time and pressing the button to stop the recording.
Dr. Colvin turned toward the door, her heels clicking once on the tile, then she paused, hand on the handle. She didn’t turn fully, just glanced over her shoulder, eyes landing on Ryker with something too pointed to ignore.
“One last thing,” the doctor said, voice softer now. “Ethan talked about you, too.”
Ryker straightened.
Dr. Colvin’s eyes sharpened, the edge of a cold memory in them. “Ethan didn’t like the way you looked at Emma. Or the way she looked at you.”
And with that, she opened the door and walked out, leaving behind silence that felt a little too loud.
Ryker stayed still, jaw tight.
Because whatever Ethan had seen between him and Emma, it wasn’t just imagined. And now, it might be one more reason Ethan wanted him gone.
Ryker lingered for a moment on the door where the doctor had just made her exit, and then he turned toward Emma. She hadn’t moved. She was still standing beside the interview table, arms crossed, face unreadable.
He stepped in close, lowering his voice. “You okay?”
She looked up at him then, and whatever he’d expected, grief, maybe, or some quiet unraveling, it wasn’t what he saw. Her eyes were bright with frustration. And something colder, harder.
Determination.
“Ryker,” a voice cut in.
He turned where Jesse stood in the doorway. One look at him and Ryker knew something was wrong.
“Talk to me,” Ryker said.
Jesse didn’t waste time. “We just got another call,” he said. “We have another dead body wearing a mask.”
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