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Hesitation gnawed at me. Something about this felt wrong. Why the ranch? Why the urgency? But it was Jake, and I trusted him implicitly.
"Okay, I'm on my way," I replied, trying to push aside the nagging doubts. Then, I turned toward the chief’s office and said, “I have to go. Jake needs me at Dalton Ranch.”
"Be careful, Kayla," the chief called after me as I hurried out. His concern was evident, mirroring my own.
I walked briskly to the police cruiser, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts. What had Jake discovered? How did it tie into everything we knew? And why did I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach?
As I climbed into the cruiser, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. This was it, the moment we had been working towards. But as I started the engine and pulled away from the station, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were heading into uncharted territory.
As my cruiser rolled to a stop at the ranch, unease crept up my spine. The sprawling property, usually bustling with life, lay eerily still under the brooding sky, the midday sun blotted out by clouds. I scanned the surroundings, noting the absence of Jake’s familiar truck. A knot formed in my stomach. Something was off.
I reached for my phone, fingers tapping out a quick message to Jake. “At the ranch. Where are you?” The air felt heavy, charged with a tension that made my skin tingle. I watched the screen, willing a reply to materialize.
After what felt like an eternity, the phone vibrated. “Stalker’s here. Lexi’s in trouble,” Jake’s message read. My heart skipped a beat. Lexi? Here? A million questions buzzed in my head, each more frantic than the last.
I fired back another text, “Why is Lexi here?” but the only answer I got was the sudden scream that shattered the silence coming from inside the house. It was a harrowing sound, filled with fear and desperation.
Instinctively, I pulled my gun from its holster, feeling the familiar weight of the weapon in my hand. My training kicked in, guiding my movements as I approached the house. Each step was measured, cautious, my eyes scanning for any sign of movement, any hint of danger.
The ranch house, once a symbol of safety and warmth, now loomed like a malevolent entity. Its windows, dark and unyielding, gave nothing away. The faint sound of sobbing reached my ears, and I paused at the door, listening intently. The sobbing continued, a low, mournful sound that seemed to seep through the cracks.
Was it Lexi? Or Mandy?
With a deep, steadying breath, I readied myself. Gripping my gun with both hands, I nudged the door open with my foot, prepared for whatever horror lay on the other side.
I pushed the door open wider, stepping into the dim interior of the ranch house. My boots made almost no sound against the wooden floor, a testament to years of careful steps on similar assignments. My eyes darted around, adjusting to the low light, every sense heightened.
The living room was a maze of draped furniture and plastic sheeting, remnants of the renovations Luke and Lexi had started. My gaze swept across the room, checking every potential hiding spot. The faint smell of paint lingered in the air, mixing with the scent of old wood and dust.
I moved slowly, methodically, my gun leading the way. Shadows clung to the corners, playing tricks on my eyes. Every creak of the floorboard underfoot made my heart race. I paused, listening intently, but the only sound was the faint whistle of the wind outside.
Stepping through a plastic curtain, I entered the dining area. The table was covered with a cloth, specks of paint dotting its surface. Chairs were stacked against the wall, their silhouettes ominous in the half-light. I scanned the room, but it was as deserted as the rest.
I proceeded to the kitchen, my movements precise. The renovation had left its mark here, too—cabinets stood open, and tools lay scattered on the counters. I checked behind the door, in the pantry, anywhere someone could hide. Nothing.
The silence was oppressive, a heavy blanket. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, yet there was no sign of Jake, Lexi, or anyone else.
I continued down the hallway, past the bathroom, its mirror covered in a dusty film. Each step felt like an eternity, my mind racing with possibilities, scenarios playing out in rapid succession.
Finally, I reached the bedrooms. The first was empty, its bed stripped bare, the closet door ajar, revealing an empty space. The second room was much the same, a ghost of a space once filled with life.
I paused at the door to the master bedroom. My hand rested on the knob, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open and stepped inside. The room was in disarray—bed unmade, drawers half-open. But like the rest of the house, it was devoid of life.
Finally, I stood in the center of the master bedroom, my gun still drawn, its metal cold and reassuring in my grip. I listened, the silence echoing around me.
Then, the realization hit me hard – I was standing in a trap. My heart pounded as I pulled out my phone, fingers tapping a quick message to Jake. "Where the hell are you?" I typed, urgency knotting in my stomach.
That's when I heard it—the faint buzz of a phone nearby. I turned sharply, my eyes scanning the room. There, on the windowsill, lay a phone, one I knew wasn't Jake's. I picked it up, my mind racing with possibilities.
The screen lit up to a gallery of photos, all of me, taken from angles I wasn't aware of. Each image was a violation, a silent watcher documenting my movements. My grip on the phone tightened as I swiped through the pictures.
Then, I came across a letter similar to those left for Lexi, but this one was addressed to me: "Surprise, Detective Bitch!" The words taunted me, mocking my failed attempt to catch the stalker.
I realized it then. Mandy, with her crazy crush on Jake. She was even crazier than I’d realized.
A noise behind me snapped my attention away from the phone. I whirled around, but it was too late. Something hard struck my arm, sending my gun clattering to the floor. I reached out blindly, but my assailant was quick and agile.
The next instant, a bag of concrete powder burst open, a cloud of dust engulfing me. My eyes stung, my vision obscured by the thick haze. I coughed, trying to clear my lungs, my thoughts racing.
