Page 7 of Outlaw Ridge: Ryker
And he was betting they weren’t even close to done.
Ryker tapped a few keys on the wall screen, pulling up Ethan Ross’s old case files. His photo appeared, clean-cut, confident, a little too smug, and Ryker hated how easy it was to picture that face stretched into the lifeless mask that they’d found under the tarp.
He glanced over at Emma. “The voice on the call from the utility worker,” he started. “You said it was muffled, but… do you think it could’ve been Ethan?”
She didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the screen, at Ethan’s face staring back at her, frozen in time. Then she gave a slow shrug.
“There was a lot of background noise,” she admitted. “Like wind or static. And the voice was low, distorted. Almost like it was run through a filter.”
“But?” he pressed.
She huffed out a breath. “Maybe. It’s possible. There was something familiar in the cadence. Something that made my stomach knot up.”
Ryker caught the subtle shift. The slight shiver she tried to cover with a rub of her arm.
“You must think I’m a lousy cop,” she muttered. “Not being able to recognize my ex-fiancé’s voice.”
Ryker tilted his head, a slow smile forming. “Not necessarily.” Then, in a gravel-deep, gritted version of his own voice, he said, ”Deputy Bonetti… meet me at the Calhoun Ranch. It’s urgent.”
Emma blinked, startled. Her brows lifted. “Was that supposed to be…?”
“Batman,” Ryker said, dropping back into his regular voice with a smirk. “Specifically, the Christian Bale growl version. You know, for drama.”
A reluctant huff of air left her. “You’ve been practicing that, haven’t you?”
He gave a small shrug. “Only in the mirror. And when traffic’s bad.”
The tension in her shoulders eased just slightly. Not much, but enough for Ryker to see that the moment had landed just a flicker of humor through the fear.
“But seriously,” he added, tone shifting back to steady, “even if itwasEthan’s voice, he’d know how to disguise it. And if he’s trying to get in your head, he’s counting on you second-guessing yourself.”
Emma looked at the screen again, at Ethan’s case file, and nodded. “Then I won’t give him the satisfaction.”
Ryker turned back to the digital wall screen, bringing up the archived file on Ethan Ross’s disappearance. The cold case database synced with the Outlaw Ridge network, displaying documents, time-stamped notes, photos, and news clippings in a crisp, organized grid.
Ethan’s face stared out from the corner profile, department ID photo, thirty-two at the time of his disappearance. Ryker expanded the incident timeline, reading aloud as he scanned.
“Last confirmed sighting: four years ago, February 12th. You and Ethan were here in Outlaw Ridge for a wedding. He vanished sometime after midnight.”
Emma stepped closer, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the screen. “We were living in Austin then. He was still on the job with APD, same as me. The wedding was his cousin’s, a big, loudthing at the VFW. The reception was at that bar off Main Street. Sal’s.”
Ryker tapped into the corresponding witness statements and brought up the relevant notes. “Multiple witnesses saw you and Ethan arguing at the bar. Loud. Heated. Some thought it was a breakup.”
“It was,” she admitted. Her voice didn’t waver, but there was steel behind it.
Ryker glanced at her. “I was there, you know. At the bar.”
Emma blinked, turning toward him. “You were?”
“Yeah. Came in for a beer with some Strike Force guys. Heard raised voices. Didn’t realize it was you two until someone muttered your names. I heard the volume, not the content.”
Emma nodded, her eyes distant now. “The content wasn’t subtle. I found a nude photo on his phone. Some woman I’d never seen before, posing like she thought she was the main event. She sent it while we were on the dance floor. He was checking his messages while I was two steps away, smiling like an idiot.”
Ryker muttered a curse under his breath.
Emma continued, her tone flat as if giving a briefing and not dredging up a hellish past. “That was our last public moment together. I lost it. Not proud of it, but I was done. Told him to get out of my life, called him every name I could think of. He left the bar. Never made it back to my dad’s house where we were staying.”
Ryker brought up the report from that night, Ethan’s car was found abandoned the next day behind the old mill, the engine cold, doors locked. No blood, no signs of a struggle. Just… gone.
