Destined (The Rangers of Ridge County #1)

Chapter Thirty-Six

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

EMMETT

I was a volatile mixture of restless and angry, and it was barely nine in the morning. Having already yelled at three of my deputies, Dorothy all but tossed me out of my office with a swift kick in the ass. Needless to say, my attitude was quickly wearing down any sympathy the crew had for me.

I just found out Millie was dosed with Thumper during the home invasion.

Lightning flashed in the distance before thunder boomed loudly—the weather still in consensus with my rage.

I spent the last hour reviewing the preliminary report from Millie’s house, and my anger mounted with every page. Each finding was worse than the last. Looking at the photos of her destroyed bedroom made my stomach lurch.

At least the evidence determined we were looking for one male suspect instead of multiple. Though that wouldn’t make finding him any easier. It was glaringly obvious we were dealing with a deranged individual.

Navigating my way through the rain-soaked streets, I kept my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Something was going on in my town, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what.

The number of open case files piled in my passenger’s seat taunted me. Two murders, a fatal car accident, and a home invasion.

On a hunch, I’d also grabbed a file from last August. Unfortunately, Roxy Sanders’s case went cold—quickly.

Other than the two homicides, there weren’t any glaringly obvious similarities connecting these cases.

Besides the Thumper each woman had in their systems.

What was I missing?

While Montana’s crime rate ranked somewhere in the middle compared to other states, Ridge County’s was shockingly low. Which was exactly what made this particular grouping stand out—the sheer violent nature of them.

I took in the state of the home before me and scowled.

Frank Bennett’s place was in worse shape than Millie’s. But it wasn’t going to stop me from asking the questions I needed answered.

Pounding on the door, I heard muffled cursing and a loud thump that sounded like a bottle hitting the hardwood.

“Fucking hell,” I muttered, ready to get this over with.

“What the hell do you want?” Frank spat as he flung the door wide. His clothes were wrinkled, and the stench of alcohol and piss wafting off of him was so strong I had to take a step back.

“I need to ask you a few questions, Frank,” I stated. “Can you tell me where you were between the hours of midnight and two this morning?”

“Why?” he asked, his bloodshot eyes narrowing.

“There was an incident at the farmhouse,” I gritted out.

“That damn house has been more trouble than it’s worth,” Frank grumbled. “And the boy won’t let me keep any of the money for myself.”

What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

Before I could ask, Frank continued. “I was at Rowdy’s ’til close.”

Which meant his alibi would be easy enough to confirm .

“You can ask Greg if you don’t believe me,” he huffed. “He’s the one who called my nephew. Said I was too drunk to drive.”

“Don’t you worry, Frank,” I assured. “I’ll definitely be looking into your whereabouts.”

Millie’s rental loomed in the distance as I turned into the driveway. I was here under the pretense of gathering things she might need during her hospital stay. In actuality, it was because I couldn’t shake the feeling I should do another walk through of the crime scene. Greer had been consistent with updates, so I felt comfortable knocking a few more of these tasks off my to-do list before heading to the hospital.

Crime scene tape billowed in the wind from where it twisted around the porch columns—my grip tightened on the steering wheel at the sight. Driving around back, I radioed into dispatch before climbing out of my cruiser. I wanted procedure followed to the letter which meant everything needed to be well documented. There was no room for error—not under my watch.

Pulling Millie’s key from my pocket, I made quick work of the lock on the backdoor. I shook off the rain then stepped inside, wiping my feet on her cat covered welcome mat and sliding on my crime scene gear. The weather made collecting evidence difficult—washing away any type of tracks outside. Though, it had created mud. Which the perpetrator hadn’t managed to avoid as evidenced by the muddy footprints that followed no clear path throughout the main level—as if he came and went multiple times.

Walking through the first floor, I didn’t find too much out of place until entering the living room. The pictures once lining the mantel now lay broken on the floor. The pillows on the couch were slashed, presumably with a sharp bladed knife, and stuffing had been strewn across the room. The curtains were also shredded and hung in ribbons. One lamp laid in pieces on the rug while the other’s shade sat askew .

After a thorough inspection of the destruction, I didn’t note anything missing from the report. So I moved on to the second floor, pausing to assess the top stair that had caved in—the hole roughly the size of the prints downstairs. Stepping up and over, I inhaled a calming breath and started down the hallway. The doors to the guest room and hall bath were shut, and I opened them to find both undisturbed.

My hands were trembling as I pushed toward Millie’s room.

The door frame was as wrecked as the actual door on the floor. I stepped around it and looked toward the tarp covering the busted window on the other side of the room—the sight of it making me feel ill. Averting my eyes, I realized every dresser drawer had been pulled out and emptied—the contents tossed haphazardly around the room. The destruction here was overwhelming and had my blood boiling over.

A full-length mirror sat shattered in the corner, reflecting a view of Millie’s bed. I turned my attention to it.

My team had collected the rose, but the image of it there was burned into my brain.

Its memory taunted me, reminding me of what I’d failed to do—protect the woman who had started to feel like so much more than just my neighbor. I exited the room in a hurry, desperate to get to Millie.

In my haste, I almost bypassed the cracked door of the hall closet.

Swinging it open, I found the space empty. Except for a box on the top shelf.

There was no way of knowing what was inside without opening it, and my gut raged at me to do so. Grabbing the supplies I had stuffed into my coat pockets, I carefully unfolded the flaps—immediately locating the smaller box housing a pair of earrings. I bagged them on a whim.

With the new evidence in hand, I made my way back to my cruiser.

Pulling into a parking space in front of the hospital, I tried to calm myself using some ridiculous breathing technique Greer had sent. Nothing was working.

Millie didn’t need this version of me. Hell , nobody did. Closing my eyes, I reached deep, grasping for any of the steadiness I typically felt. My fingers closed around the steering wheel as my breaths quickened, becoming shallow.

How was it possible to feel like this? Like I was sprinting despite sitting still.

Didn’t it defy the laws of nature to simultaneously feel flight and fight?

What a fucking paradox. Frustrated, I raked my hands down my face before massaging my temples. I’d been doing just fine before Millie Rushing crashed the party. There was no rationalizing these stupid emotions.

The chime of my phone made my eyelids spring open and my heart rate spike.

Greer:

She’s awake.

Those two words instantly shifted my perspective. Finally latching onto some semblance of the composure I couldn’t find moments before, I flung my door open and stepped into the downpour.

The blinding florescent lights of the hospital’s hallway caused my eyes to squint. That dull ache behind them served as another reminder of just how little sleep I’d gotten in the last twenty-four hours. But I kept moving with determination.

I rounded the corner and spotted Deputy Bria Sutherland standing guard at Millie’s door. Nodding to her as I marched closer, she returned it with one of her own.

Plenty could be relayed with simple gestures and minimal communication. I knew each of the individuals working for me well enough to be confident in this form of briefing for the time being.

“Doctor just went in,” Bria reported once I was within earshot.

My pace quickened. “Thanks, Bria,” I threw over my shoulder as I passed through the doorway—thankful to have made it in time. My steps faltered at the wailing sound coming from the monitor attached to Millie.

She was in distress, and if the alarm hadn’t given it away, the tears streaming down her face would have.

No one else in the room existed as I crossed the space.

All that mattered in that moment was her.