Page 55 of In the Dark of the Past

She rolled her eyes. “You can either sit your ass in the rig, or I can sedate you and carry you to the hospital. Your call.”

I looked at River. Her jaw was set, chin up. The last thing I wanted was to leave her here with the memory of me bleeding on a mountainside and the guy who’d done it being loaded into the back of a cruiser.

But I also needed my arm working. And if this was the opening act, I couldn’t afford to be half-crippled when the curtain went up.

“Linton,” I called. “You ride in with our friend. Torres, you take point on the scene. Get CSU out here to photograph the drop box and bag everything inside, including the Polaroid. I want chain of custody by the book.”

“You got it,” Torres said.

River’s hand tightened on my arm. “I’m coming back to the station,” she said, before I could argue. “I’m not going home and pretending what just happened didn’t happen.”

I met her eyes. The stubborn set of her mouth told me I’d lose if I tried to stop her, and a selfish part of me didn’t want her out of my sight anyway.

“Fine. Stick with Atlas, though,” I said. “You get in his truck, and you stay with him. And if anything feels off, call me. Don’t wait. Don’t try to handle it yourself.”

She lifted her chin. “I can handle⁠—”

“I know you can,” I cut in, gentler than I felt. “That’s the problem. But handle it by calling me this time, okay?”

Something in her expression softened. “Okay,” she said quietly. “But only because your arm looks like a horror-movie prop.”

“Flattering.”

Ainjil gestured toward the ambulance. “Move, Sheriff. I’ve got other idiots around town to patch up after you.”

I let them load me into the rig, the smell of antiseptic and wet pine following me inside. As the doors closed, I caught one last glimpse of River, standing in the mud, shoulders squared, watching our zip-tied suspect being shoved into the back of the cruiser. Her face was pale in the flash of the cruiser lights, eyes dark and steady.

I’d seen that look before. In my own mirror.

It wasn’t fear.

It was fury.

County General smelled like bleach and cheap coffee and every bad decision I’d ever watched someone make. They numbed my arm, stitched me up, and hung a bag of fluids “just to be safe,” which I tolerated for exactly nine minutes before I started unplugging things. Ainjil cursed at me, the ER doc threatened to write me up, and I informed them both that there was a man in my holding cell who knew where at least one body was buried, and I wasn’t letting him talk to anyone but me.

Eventually, they compromised by wrapping my arm in fresh gauze, jabbing me with a tetanus shot, and ordering me not to drive.

I walked out anyway.

Atlas’s truck idled at the curb, wipers smearing the mist off the windshield. River sat in the front seat, hair frizzed from the rain, clothes swapped for something dry and borrowed from who knew where. The second she saw me, her shoulders dropped half an inch.

“I’m sure they told you to rest. What part of that did you translate as ‘go directly back into chaos?’” she asked as I climbed in.

“The part that knows Linton is in over his head,” I said. “And that our guy’s lawyer will be here by sunrise if we don’t move now.”

Atlas snorted. “Relax, kid. Linton is babysitting him, not interrogating. I told him not to say a word beyond ‘Do you want water?’”

“Good.” I blew out a breath and flexed my fingers. My arm throbbed in time with my pulse. “What’s the count?”

“They’ve got the drop box,” Atlas said, pulling away from the curb. “CSU bagged the phone, the drive, the Polaroid, and some kind of code sheet that was folded inside. Numbers and letters. Looks like shit a teenager would cook up for a scavenger hunt, but I’m not ruling it out as something nastier.”

“Any sign of the other two?” I asked.

“Tracker lost them at the creek crossing. Rain wiped any decent prints.” Atlas’s mouth flattened. “Either they know these woods better than anyone, or this wasn’t their first run.”

My jaw clenched. “It definitely wasn’t. They’ve been using that drop for some time.”

River watched me, arms wrapped around herself like she was holding in heat. “You recognized something, didn’t you?” she said. “Out there. When they spoke.”