Page 60 of Outlaw Ridge: Ryker
Ryker popped open the trunk, and without a word, they each grabbed a Kevlar vest. Emma slipped hers on, and she took a backup sidearm from the gear case and holstered it at her ankle. Ryker did the same, checking the magazine before snapping his vest into place.
This wasn’t a show of force. This was survival.
They had no margin for error now.
They got in the cruiser, and Ryker pulled out onto the road. The trees thinned behind them, giving way to long stretches of icy pasture and silent hills. Emma was just starting to reach for her phone to check the backup team’s location when Ryker’s rang.
He answered on speaker. “Talk to me,” he said.
Hallie’s voice came through, tight with frustration. “Ethan just unleashed a flood of posts online. Video rants, social media blasts. The works.”
Emma’s stomach sank.
Hallie continued, “He’s calling on anyone who was ever arrested by either of you, wrongfully or not, to contact the FBI. Says, and I quote, ‘Flood the lines. Bring these two dirty cops to justice.’”
Ryker’s grip tightened on the wheel. “He’s trying to bury us in noise.”
Emma’s mind spun. Ethan was upping the pressure on every front. Turning the public against them. Forcing them to question their own cases. Drowning real threats in a sea of false ones.
“All part of the show,” she muttered. “He wants us distracted. Looking over our shoulders.”
Hallie sighed. “Exactly. I’ve already got Lexa and Griff triaging the incoming mess. But you two need to stay focused.”
“We are,” Ryker said.
Emma tried to tamp down her fury. Ethan could post whatever he wanted. He could spin his narrative. But in the end, they were the ones coming for him.
The road curved away from Outlaw Ridge, dipping into rougher terrain, narrower shoulders, heavier woods. Emma stared out the window, noting the stretch of pine and oak that boxed them in on either side. They were heading in the opposite direction of home base, and she couldn’t help but feel it wasn’t random.
“The meeting spot Ethan chose is the opposite direction from the station,” Emma said. “He knows that keeps us farther from immediate backup.”
Ryker gave a quiet grunt of agreement. “But with that one-hour deadline he had to know it’d be enough time for deputies to get close.”
“Yes. So maybe he’s not just planning an ambush. Maybe he wants us watching the tree line while the real danger’s under our feet.”
She looked out at the growing blanket of snow on the shoulders of the road. It softened everything. Made it pretty, almost.
Almost.
“If he planted explosives out here,” she added, “the snow’s going to make them harder to spot.”
Ryker’s grip on the wheel tightened. “We’ll stay sharp.”
They’d have to. Because if Ethan really wanted them dead, he wouldn’t come at them fromjust one direction.
The trees soon thinned into a clearing where the road narrowed to a single lane, lined with frost-covered grass and thick patches of cedar. The GPS flashed that they’d arrived.
Ryker slowed the cruiser and flicked on the flashers. He didn’t pull off immediately, letting the vehicle idle on the road as they both leaned forward to peer through the windshield.
The snow had blanketed most of the area, but beneath it, the ground looked undisturbed, no fresh tire tracks, no churned soil. Still, Emma knew that meant little. If Ethan had hidden anything beneath the surface, they might not see it until it was too late.
Ryker finally eased the cruiser onto the shoulder with care, tires crunching through the thin layer of snow.
“Twenty-five minutes early,” he said, checking his watch. “We use it.”
Emma nodded. They both reached under their seats for binoculars and scanned the clearing and tree line. It was quiet. Too quiet.
No sign of Ethan. No hostages. No movement at all.
