Not This Place (A Rachel Blackwood Suspense Thriller—Book Seven) by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2024-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

The dusty road crunched beneath the tires of their unmarked car as it rolled to a halt, facing the newest crime scene where Cheryl's boyfriend's body had been discovered.

Rachel Blackwood's gaze sliced through the chaos of police officers and the flash of red and blue lights, settling on the grandeur of the Hargreaves estate. Looming. Silent. Accusing.

"Looks like the whole department's here," Ethan muttered, his eyes scanning the perimeter.

She stepped out, boots hitting the ground with purpose. The air carried a chill, the kind that seeped into bones.

She strode towards the body, a shroud of yellow tape marking its sanctity. Jake Shields lay on his back, eyes open to the Texas sky. He would’ve been a handsome man if he’d been alive, with

his sharp jawline and smooth features. His hands, she noticed, were rough, though. The hands of a laborer. Now, he was a grim testament to the brutality of his death, his body sprawled in an undignified pose on the manicured lawn of the enormous estate.

A slash across his throat—a violent grin in the stillness of death. No flailing arms. No clenched fists. Serenity in the horror.

"Throat's cut clean," Rachel observed, voice stripped of emotion. "No signs he fought back."

A figure cut through the cluster of uniformed officers, moving with an air of authority that parted the sea of blue. Rachel recognized the coroner, Dr. Sierra Hart, by her white coat and the purpose in her stride.

Dr. Hart had worked with Rachel on cases in the past, especially those that took them to southern Texas.

"Ranger Blackwood," Dr. Hart greeted, voice steady and even.

“Dr. Hart.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your aunt,” Hart said quietly.

Rachel frowned. “That news making the rounds?”

“If someone takes a shot at one of our own…” Hart shrugged, trailing off. Her hair was dyed, judging by the pale roots under a reddish fringe.

Her eyes studied Rachel. Speculative, cautious eyes that somehow made Rachel think of a crow in how dark they were and the way

they flickered furtively around, gathering information.

"Thank you," Rachel nodded, her voice succinct. "What can you tell me about the body?"

Dr. Hart nodded, her gaze turning to the sprawled figure of Jake Shields. Her gloved hands sifted through the tools in her bag before she pulled out a small flashlight. She clicked it on and bent down to examine the body, the bright beam focusing on the gruesome wound at his throat.

"Judging by the state of rigor mortis, I'd estimate he's been dead for more than thirty hours," Dr. Hart said, her voice measured as she took note of the signs of lividity on the corpse.

"Thirty hours," Rachel echoed, noting down the time frame in her mind.

"That seems about right," Ethan chimed in beside her, his gaze focused on the body as well. He crouched down next to Dr. Hart, glancing at Jake's hands before his eyes landed on something peculiar.

Dr. Hart nodded, her face a mask of professionalism. She embodied her role—clinical, composed. Her dark hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, and her glasses sat perched on a wide nose.

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