The forest slowly opened before them as their black SUV rolled down the asphalt road. In the distance, an old sign, half-covered with moss, appeared among the trees.
—Welcome to Banshee Town —read Jessica (formerly Sartana Rivera) with a faint smile, leaning over the dashboard.
—Home sweet home —murmured Ethan, slowing down to take a turnoff.
The SUV drove onto a gravel path. Through the windshield, rays of sunlight filtered between the branches, bathing the interior with golden reflections. They had spent weeks in New York, hiding, waiting for things to calm down.
Jessica rested her elbow on the window, watching the scenery around them.
—Compared to the desert, this is beautiful —she said in a relaxed tone— I think I could live here forever.
The vehicle stopped in front of a steel gate. As it did, Ethan rolled down the window and entered a sequence on the access keypad. A short beep confirmed the correct code, and after a metallic hum, the doors slowly opened to the sides.
The black Range Rover advanced along the gravel road, surrounded by tall pines swaying under the cool afternoon wind. The air smelled of damp earth and freshly fallen leaves. As they climbed the hill, the landscape opened up to reveal the cabin.
The cabin looked just as it always had, though the place showed signs of abandonment: a layer of dust covered the porch, dry leaves had piled up on the steps, and weeds had grown in several spots.
In front of the house, a small lake stretched quietly, its surface barely broken by the reflection of the setting sun. Ethan turned off the engine and sat for a few seconds, taking in the view. He hadn't been there in over a month.
—Well —he said finally, unbuckling his seatbelt— welcome home… or something like it.
Jessica smiled, gazing at the lake with interest.
—Come on, you'll have plenty of time to look around later —Ethan said, patting her on the back—. You'll get bored soon enough.
—I won't get bored —Jessica replied.
The wind carried the scent of pine and evening moisture. Ethan opened the front door, the wood creaking under his boots.
Jessica followed him in, taking in the details: the stone fireplace, the worn wooden table, an old industrial lamp hanging from the ceiling.
—Do you live here alone? —she asked, dropping her backpack on the couch.
—Yeah, my father left it to me when he died —he replied, flicking on the lights with a click.
Jessica glanced at him sideways.
A strange smell of dampness filled the room as the door opened. Ethan dropped his heavy pack and quickly opened the windows and doors to let the fresh air in.
—And it's been a while since your father died, huh? You don't talk much about yourself.
Ethan gave a faint smile.
—Almost two years. We didn't get along —he confessed, digging through old memories—. When I finished college, I joined the academy, thinking maybe we could patch things up… but he died before I graduated.
Ethan fell silent for a moment, not sure why he was talking about it; maybe it was nostalgia still clinging to him. It was rare for anyone to ask about old Morgan.
—Still, he left everything ready so I could join the sheriff's department, so I guess in his own way, he was proud.
Ethan hadn't thought about it much. Those weren't really his memories, but the ones belonging to the body's former owner. In the original timeline, Ethan had died on Brantley's orders, never making it to Banshee.
Curious as always, Jessica began to explore. The mounted deer head in the living room caught her attention.
When he left, he hadn't known how long he'd be gone. The house had simply been sealed up, and the furniture was covered with a thin layer of dust.
They took out rags, buckets, and an old brush from the closet. Ethan started with the floor, sweeping up the dust while Jessica removed the covers from the sofas. Outside, she stretched a line and hung the fabric to dry in the sun. The warm midday air moved them gently.
—Looks like this'll take all day —she murmured, shaking out a rug on the porch.
—At least we'll get some exercise —Ethan joked, wiping the windows clean.
Little by little, the house began to come back to life. The musty smell faded, replaced by the scent of soap and wet wood. When they finished, they collapsed onto the clean couch, exhausted but satisfied.
—Not bad —Jessica said with a smile, glancing around—. It's starting to feel like a home.
Ethan nodded, watching the dust still floating in the glow of sunset.
An hour later, Ethan came out of the shower whistling. After the trip and all that cleaning, a bath had done him good.
Once he had set up the bedding, the sound of running water came from the bathroom. Lying on the bed, Ethan picked up his phone.
After a while, Jessica emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a towel, her bare feet touching the wooden floor.
—What are you doing? —she groaned, dropping onto the soft bed and turning over.
—Job —Ethan replied, turning on his phone— Just checking on a few things he's been helping me with.
—And what did he say? —Jessica asked, pulling a pillow under her arms to lean on.
—Everything's fine.
During that time, Jessica had made some simple changes to her appearance. She had straightened her hair; the curls she used to wear were gone. Her blonde hair was now dyed brown, giving her an entirely different aura.
—Wanna go out to eat?
—Ah, now you're speaking my language —she replied, letting the towel drop as she rummaged through her suitcase for clothes—. Besides, I need to go shopping; a girl can't live in the woods without her essentials.
By noon, Ethan opened the garage door.
His Dodge Challenger had been sitting there for almost a month, patiently waiting for its owner's return. Job's yellow convertible was parked nearby, both cars covered in dust.
Ethan pulled off the cover from the Challenger, quickly admiring the bodywork before sliding into the driver's seat. He turned the key and pressed the gas pedal a few times, feeling the familiar roar of the engine.
After carefully cleaning the car's surface, Jessica finally stepped out of the house. She wore dark blue skinny jeans tucked into brown combat boots and a light brown jacket.
She walked over to the Dodge Challenger and ran her hand along the hood.
—What a sexy car —she said— this one suits you better.
—Thanks —Ethan replied, tossing a towel over the porch railing.
He settled into the driver's seat, turned the key, and grinned like a kid with a new toy. He pressed the accelerator, and the car roared to life, leaving the cabin behind.
—Hey! —Jessica shouted, gripping the seat—. Slow down! I don't want us thrown in jail on the first day.
—Jail? They'll never catch us! —Ethan laughed, shifting gears with precision.
Jessica rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, but she couldn't help smiling.
—I'm just saying, if the cops see us, I'm going to laugh… and you're the one getting the ticket.
—Wow! —Ethan burst out laughing, turning the corner carefully but clearly enjoying every second—. Check this out!
At the next intersection, a Crown Victoria appeared behind them, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
—Shit… —muttered Jessica, more amused than worried—. Told you so…
—Ha! —Ethan raised an eyebrow and lightly tapped the brake, giving her a wink—. Relax, I've got this.
Jessica couldn't help laughing, letting the rush of adrenaline fill the car and the road.
—Shit.
She saw the patrol car closing in from behind and quickly buckled her seatbelt.
—It's fine. I just went a little over the speed limit —Ethan said.
He hit the brakes hard and came to a stop, wondering who had pulled him over.
—Vehicle ahead, please turn off the engine and place your keys on the roof —boomed a voice from the loudspeaker of the Crown Victoria behind them.
The voice was so distinct that it was impossible not to recognize who it was.
—Idiot —Ethan muttered under his breath, reaching to switch off the car, took the keys out and placed them on the roof—.
He left the keys there and gave a middle-finger salute. Two people quickly stepped out of the patrol car behind them.
One of them approached aggressively and, with a stern expression, said:
—Sir, you're suspected of speeding and reckless driving. Please show me your insurance and driver's license…
Ethan pushed his sunglasses back, his eyes gleaming as he stared up at the officer's big belly.
—I thought you spent your days sitting around eating donuts and drinking coffee, not chasing cars.
—Hey, that's no way to talk to an officer of the law! —Brock said, leaning against the car, trying to sound serious—. You'll have to step out of the vehicle, keep your hands where I can see them, and don't make any sudden moves.
—Go to hell!
Brock burst out laughing, his stomach shaking as he gave the hood a friendly pat.
—Did I scare you? —the sheriff asked, winking at Jessica as he tried to regain his composure.
—Idiot —she replied, half amused, half annoyed, as Ethan nudged her with his elbow.
—Come on, it was just a joke… good to see you again, Ethan. Things have been pretty dull without you and Hood around. —Brock said in his usual firm tone, though a smile crept across his face—.
—Haha, good to see you too —Ethan replied, relaxing his shoulders.
Jessica grabbed Ethan by the arm, speaking through clenched teeth:
—Aren't you going to introduce me? —she asked, folding her arms with a smile.
—Of course —Ethan said, with a playful grimace—. Brock's the town sheriff, and this is Bunker, my old partner.
He turned toward her and added:
—And this is Jessica, my friend.
—Hi —they all said at once, smiling as they shook hands.
—I didn't expect to see you today —Brock said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
—Just got here, only stopping by for lunch —Ethan replied with a shrug.
Brock hesitated for a moment, then tossed the car keys back to him with a mix of annoyance and amusement.
—Well, we've got to get back to patrol —Brock said with a crooked grin—. Just wanted to say hi… though I didn't expect you'd show up with such a beautiful girl. Shioban's gonna be jealous.
Jessica smiled and shook her head, amused.
Ethan waved goodbye to them, started the engine, and drove off, this time keeping the speed down. Feeling their gazes still on him like little needles, he coughed.
—Got something to say?
—You knew it was them from the start, didn't you? —Jessica asked, glancing toward the patrol car disappearing in the distance.
—Of course. There are only a handful of guys at the station —I know them all. I figured it'd be one of those idiots —Ethan replied with a lopsided grin.
Jessica frowned, skeptical.
—I still can't believe you were actually a cop… I mean, what kind of cop keeps millions of dollars in his trunk?
—Yeah, well… I never said I was a good cop —he answered with a half-smile, raising his eyebrows with a trace of irony.
Jessica said nothing; she just nudged Ethan's head playfully, wondering how he could be so shameless.
When they reached the center of town, Ethan slowed down and looked for a place to park.
He carefully turned the wheel, aligning the car between two vehicles in the lot, stopping right in front of Milles' restaurant.
—We're here —Ethan said, turning off the engine and gesturing for Jessica to get out.
She opened the door, stepped out carefully, adjusted her jacket, and waited while he closed the door behind him. They walked side by side through the parking lot, weaving between cars and greeting a few familiar faces.
When they reached the sidewalk in front of Milles' restaurant, Ethan pushed open the glass door and stepped inside.
The place was calm; most of the tables were taken, and the smell of fresh food filled the air. Only a few tables remained empty, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun streaming through the windows.
Ethan quickly spotted an empty booth and pointed to one in the corner near the window—his favorite spot.
—Ethan! I didn't expect to see you here —said Daria, approaching with surprise—. When did you get back?
—Just today —he replied, hugging her warmly—. It's good to see you too.
Daria pulled back and glanced curiously at Jessica, raising a brow and smiling.
—And who's your friend? —she asked with interest.
—Daria, this is Jessica —Ethan said, gesturing toward her—. Jessica, this is Daria.
They exchanged smiles and a brief wave before taking their seats by the window. After ordering, Daria got up and headed toward the kitchen, swaying her hips.
Ethan noticed Jessica's look and smirked, tilting his head.
—What are you staring at so intently?
Jessica slid her foot under the table, brushing lightly against his, and said with a teasing tone:
—I think you two have a bit of history.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, amused.
—Oh yeah? And why do you think that? —he asked, his smile slowly forming.
—Because of the way she looks at you —Jessica said, holding his gaze—. She undresses you with her eyes… did you sleep with her?
Ethan chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat.
—A few times —he admitted casually—. Nothing serious.
Jessica stared at him, incredulous. She'd caught that spark in Daria's eyes the moment she saw him; a mix of passion and lust that was impossible to hide. Her instincts were rarely wrong.
—You're unbelievable… —she muttered, rolling her eyes—. I don't know whether to praise your honesty or slap you for your shamelessness.
—Definitely the latter —he said with a crooked grin, the kind of smile that both irritated and intrigued her.
Moments later, Daria returned with their food. At Ethan's invitation, she joined them during her break. To Jessica's surprise, the tension she expected never showed up; instead, the three of them slipped easily into a light, lively conversation.
Driven by curiosity, Jessica began asking Daria about Ethan's past—bluntly, without trying to hide it. The talk flowed naturally, jumping from old stories to small-town gossip, fashion, and music. Before long, they were laughing together, their shared humor catching them both off guard.
Ethan sat back, watching them with quiet amusement. When he finished his meal, he saw the two women still chatting away and shook his head.
—You two keep at it. I'm going to check in on some friends —Ethan said, standing up.
He walked to the counter, packed his lemon pie to go, paid the bill, and crossed the street toward the old sheriff's office.
It had been nearly two months since he'd left, and the place was completely renovated now. Looked like the mayor had finally stopped withholding the funds for repairs. When he opened the glass door, he froze for a second—everything was new.
—Ethan! —a surprised voice called out, and Alma stood up from the reception desk, eyes wide—. Oh, it's so good to see you! We've missed you! Even that fool Lotus, though he denies it, keeps asking if I've heard from you.
—Alma, it's great to see you too! —he exclaimed, setting the pie box on her desk and giving her a tight hug—. Please, I only quit a few weeks ago. It's not that big a deal. Brought you a lemon pie.
—Told you, pay up, Emmett —sang Siobhan with a triumphant grin as she approached. She snatched the ten dollars from his hand before he could protest, folding the bill neatly.
Ethan watched, half confused, half amused. Emmett sighed dramatically.
—What's this about? —Ethan asked, crossing his arms.
—A bet —Emmett said with a shrug—. Siobhan said you'd bring a lemon pie, and I said it'd be apple.
—Too predictable —Siobhan interrupted with a sly smile—. Alma's favorite is lemon, so I win.
Ethan looked down at the dessert and chuckled.
—Guess you know me better than I thought.
—Of course —Siobhan replied, slipping the bill into her pocket—. Men are easy to read.
Emmett rolled his eyes while Ethan laughed, and the room filled with that familiar warmth that only came when the three of them were together again.
—Sorry, but my favorite girl will always be Alma, buddy —Ethan said, smirking—. I'm guessing Brock told you I was back. The idiot pulled me over this morning.
—Glad to see you again —Siobhan said, rising on her toes to give him a quick hug before pulling away, slightly embarrassed.
They'd stayed in touch while he was gone; she knew he'd be back that day before Brock even mentioned it.
After some casual talk, Ethan grabbed a chair and sat down.
—When I saw Brock earlier, he seemed worried about something —he said.
Emmett and Siobhan exchanged a look. Emmett sighed and spread his hands.
—There's been a string of murders in the area —Siobhan said through clenched teeth as she sat—. All the victims were young, blonde, and beautiful women.
—All of them? —Ethan asked, his tone sharpening—. A serial killer?
—That's what we suspect. The FBI found similar victims in New York and Philadelphia. Two women here in town so far —Siobhan explained, glancing at Emmett, who pretended not to listen as he took another bite of pie.
The case was still unsolved, and technically they weren't supposed to share any details with civilians—but Ethan was an exception, and Emmett knew it.
—You contacted the FBI? —Ethan asked, frowning.
—Yes, since the first body —Siobhan nodded—. It was found in a federally protected area, so Brock made the call immediately. The special agent assigned to the case arrived yesterday afternoon.
Ethan nodded slowly, piecing things together.
—You know Brock —Emmett said quietly—. He's only been sheriff for two months, and now he's got two murders on his hands. The mayor's breathing down his neck, and the town's losing patience.
Ethan understood how federal cases worked. When a crime occurred on federal land or crossed jurisdictional lines—like interstate transport, kidnappings, or linked murders—the FBI took over, while the sheriff stayed as the local liaison.
—Alright, then I'll head back first —Ethan said, glancing out the window, spotting Jessica leaving Milles' restaurant—. By the way, I'm hosting a barbecue at my place Saturday at seven. Don't be late.
Since his personal safety was no longer at risk, he didn't feel the need to get involved in the investigation. After all, he wasn't a cop anymore.
Siobhan grabbed a slice of pie from Emmett's plate, took a big bite, then leaned in close and whispered:
—I need to talk to you… can I see you tonight? My shift ends at nine —she said softly, her eyes uncertain—. Come by my place. I'll buy you a beer.
—Yeah, sure —Ethan replied, slightly thrown off. He wasn't used to seeing Siobhan so shy—. Why that look? Something wrong? Your ex back in town?
—No, nothing like that —she said quickly, shaking her head—. I just… need to tell you something.
Ethan pinched her cheeks playfully, rubbing them with affection, not knowing what else to say.
—Alright, see you tonight.
After leaving the station, he and Jessica headed to the grocery store to pick up supplies. She was in high spirits, humming softly to a song playing on the radio.
—Didn't expect you to hit it off with Daria so quickly —Ethan said, glancing at her—. Seems like you're settling into Banshee fast.
—She's way more interesting than you —Jessica replied with a smirk.
Ethan raised an eyebrow, grinning mischievously:
—Perfect. So you're hanging out with girls now?
Jessica shot him a glare, crossing her arms.
—Ethan! It's just girl talk, don't get any ideas.
He laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender.
—Alright, alright… but you've got to admit, Daria's cute, huh?
—Don't you dare say that again —she growled, though she couldn't help but smile a little.
Ethan's tone grew more serious.
—Anyway, I've got to see someone tonight. I think she's in trouble… so I can't take you out for dinner.
Jessica nodded, relaxing.
—That's fine.
—It's good you're making friends, so you don't feel too alone. I can't stay in Banshee Town to keep you company all the time —Ethan said firmly, meeting her eyes—. I'll feel better knowing you've got someone around.