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The big cop just nodded. "Mhmm. I take you. Come." He turned on his heel, leading her to the dust-crusted Jeep.
Rachel followed, her heart hammering in sync with the thud of her footsteps. The Jeep was an old military model, green paint faded to a dusty olive, the hood down like a brow furrowed against the desert sun. It was a relic, much like the land it traversed.
As Lone Elk pulled the door wider, the metal creaked, a protest to movement in this place where stillness reigned. Rachel climbed in, the seat warm beneath her. She glanced at the dashboard, where dust motes danced in the light streaming through the windshield.
"Seatbelt," Lone Elk grunted, pulling his own across his chest with a decisiveness that left no room for argument.
"Of course," Rachel murmured, fumbling with the stiff strap before securing it. They were in the belly of the beast now, she thought, both of them encased in a machine that felt as much a part of the earth as the rocks and brush outside.
As the engine roared to life, Rachel’s pulse synced with its rhythm, a primal beat that spoke of the chase.
The Jeep shuddered over the uneven terrain, kicking up plumes of dust that hung in the air like specters. Rachel squinted against the harsh sunlight that turned the sky into a bleached canvas stretched taut above them. The landscape was a study in desolation, with only stubborn scrub and distant mesas breaking the monotony.
"Councilman Whitehorse," Rachel ventured, her voice barely rising above the rumble of the engine. "He's respected around here?"
Lone Elk's eyes remained fixed on the road, his expression unreadable beneath the brim of his hat. "Yeah."
She watched a hawk circle lazily overhead, a silent sentinel. "And his daughter, Chey?"
"Seems so." His grip tightened on the steering wheel.
"Must have been tough on Chey," she pressed on, "living up to such a legacy."
"Suppose."
The conversation was like prying open a rusted lock—each word a labor, each answer a barrier. She took note of the terse responses, filing them away. Lone Elk was a wall, but walls had cracks.
"Any threats against them?" Rachel continued, studying his profile for any telltale flicker of emotion.
"None I know of."
A red-tailed lizard darted across the road, narrowly escaping the Jeep's advance. Rachel felt a kinship with the creature—out here, danger seemed both ever-present and hidden in the quiet places.
"Chey had big shoes to fill," she said, softer now.
"Big shoes," he echoed, almost to himself.
The silence that followed was thick with things unsaid, a tension that clawed at Rachel's throat. They were words away from a precipice, and she wasn't sure if the next question would send them tumbling over the edge.
"Is there—" Rachel started, but stopped short as Lone Elk's hand moved to his radio, fingers hesitating over the buttons.
"Radio’s dead out here," he said, pre-empting her inquiry.
"Of course," she replied, settling back into her seat. Her gaze drifted to the passing scenery, the stark beauty of the reservation unfolding with every jolt and turn. Each moment was a thread, weaving a tapestry.
The Jeep’s tires crunched over the gravel, a steady drumbeat against the hush of the desert. Rachel eyed the native cop, Lone Elk, his face a mask carved from the rugged terrain itself.
"Officer Lone Elk," she said, her voice slicing through the cabin's stifling air, "you've been here a long time. Anyone you can think of who might wish harm upon Whitehorse or his daughter--personally?"
Lone Elk's eyes, dark and unreadable, flickered to the rearview mirror, then away. The muscles in his jaw tightened, a subtle betrayal of his stoic facade. "Wyatt's place is just up ahead," he muttered. "Careful. They don't like cops."
"You're dodging my questions."
"Hmm."
"Come on, there has to be someone," Rachel pressed, feeling the weight of urgency heavy on her chest. "A disgruntled family member, a rival... anyone."
Her words hung suspended in the heat, waiting for him to shatter their fragile existence. He took a breath, and it felt as if the very air between them bristled with electricity.
