Chapter 15
DUVAL
It didn’t take more than a few days for him to regret asking Noelle to tackle the old, grainy photo for an identification.
It wasn’t that she was doing a bad job.
It was that she’d become consumed with it.
When she said she wanted to help bring Aracely’s killer to justice, she wasn’t just saying the words.
She’d spent every moment she could drafting and re-drafting images about the man.
Anthony Coolidge.
The S.W.A.T. team had been busy serving warrants for the Texas Rangers, knocking down doors to bring people in.
They’d also been involved in a bank robbery turned hostage situation.
Perhaps that was why they hadn’t known about a news story that had suddenly taken over the news.
LOCAL ARTIST SEARCHES FOR KILLER
Douglas, that fucker, had been bragging to one of his friends about ‘their’ investigation into Aracely Santos’ murder.
Like the man had a damn thing to do about it.
He’d talked about the artist who’d given Aracely her face again and how she was working on putting a face to the murderer.
He’d been seconds short of handing out the name when he realized there was someone listening in.
At least that’s what he’d said to Chief Fagan when he’d had his ass hauled into the office.
Since that story came out, the press had been trying to hound Noelle.
And while Chief Fagan had put a quick ending to them surrounding her house, Noelle felt the additional pressure to produce a usable image for the investigation.
Duval had already been spending a good amount of his free time with the Garcias, but after the news stories came out, adding a ton of public interest to Noelle, he’d been spending every possible spare moment at the house to make sure that no one bothered her or her family.
Well, that and he just wanted to spend time there anyway.
Patricia set down a tray on the coffee table in front of him as he sat beside Ciela. “How are you doing, McCrae?”
He smiled at her words.
The Rangers all called him Duval, but his family called him McCrae. His mother, his sister, and now... Noelle and her family.
It made him feel... so many things.
“I’m okay.” He lifted a hand and touched the top of Ciela’s head where she sat beside him. “I’m better than okay, now.”
“She does that... for all of us.”
Ciela leaned forward, reaching for something on the tray and he had to catch her around the waist before she pitched head-first off of the couch.
Duval kept one arm around her, reached forward, and picked up the snack tray. When he sat back, Ciela settled on his lap and pulled the tray up in front of her.
All he could do was hold the tray and the little princess on his lap.
“Yeah,” he touched a kiss to the crown of her head and looked up at Patricia, seeing the resemblance to Noelle in her warm eyes and the thick waves of her hair. “She’s sweet. Just perfect.”
Patricia shook her head. “You’ve seen her when she’s tired and hungry, right? How sweet is she then?”
“You haven’t seen me tired and hungry, yet. That would send most people running.”
Patricia laughed softly. “We always have something in the house to warm up for just such an occasion.”
Smiling, she gestured to the cushion beside him.
“Would you mind if I-”
“Mind?” His brow furrowed. “This is your house, please. Have a seat.”
She settled beside him, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of Ciela’s hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you’re here, McCrae.”
He swallowed, unsure of what to say. Or how to react.
“It feels like we’ve known you and your family for... for years.”
He looked at Patricia, his brows slightly raised. “I hope that’s a good kind of ‘years’ and not the ‘we’ve outstayed our welcome.’”
Patricia laughed, shaking her head. “Very much the welcome kind. I was a little concerned at first, knowing the connection that Ciela’s had in the past with other Rangers.”
Duval looked down at the little girl sitting in his lap. She picked up a piece of fruit from the snack tray and took a bite of it. She didn’t seem to react at all to their conversation literally going on over her head.
He smoothed his hand over her hair and felt the weight of Patricia’s words settle over him.
He was all too aware of Ciela’s prior connection to the Rangers and he thanked the heavens every day that she didn’t react badly to him now that she knew that he was a Ranger.
“Time,” he spoke softly, “can heal a number of things.”
“Time, yes.” Patricia set her hand on his arm. “But in your case, I think it also has to do with the person. With you.”
Something about the way she said the words. Or maybe it was just the words. It was hard for him to grasp what had hit him like a brick in that quiet exchange.
It could have been a number of things that had knocked him off kilter, but the easiest thing he could think of... the first thing that popped up in his head was the fact that the Garcia family had become his.
Patricia, Ciela, and definitely Noelle. It wasn’t just that he cared about them, he...
“I think you and Noelle both need a night out.”
He frowned at her words, not because he didn’t want to spend time with her...
He’d learned quickly that Noelle was a woman driven by her work.
He was, too.
There was a difference though.
His work was investigative. He collected facts and put them together.
Noelle’s work was creative in nature.
The concentration that she used to do the magic she did?
He didn’t want to interrupt her.
Patricia gave his arm a couple of pats. “She could use the break. I’ll be here.” She dipped her chin down and looked at Ciela’s face. “She’ll probably go to sleep in a little bit. She’s used to her mom working odd hours when she’s creating.”
Ciela shifted on his lap and looked up at her grandmother first and then up at him. “Mama’s in her cave.”
Patricia’s smile widened. “Her creative cave.” She met Duval’s curious look. “It’s how we describe her workroom to Ciela so that she knows that her mother is working on something important.”
Duval nodded slowly, understanding what Noelle’s mother was saying.
Patricia held her arms out to Ciela. “Come here, chachetona.”
Ciela turned her head and puffed out her cheeks before she blew a raspberry. “I’m not chubby, abuela!”
“No,” Patricia shook her head, “but when you were a baby you were round and squishy and perfect.”
Duval kept his hand on the tray and lifted it out of the way as Ciela scrambled over onto her grandmother’s lap.
When she was settled, Duval handed the tray over to Patricia and Ciela put her hand into the little cup of goldfish crackers with a giggle.
Patricia caught his eye and lifted her chin toward the master bedroom of the house.
Her unspoken message was clear and simple.
With a nod, Duval got up from the couch and worked his way around the back, hoping that he wouldn’t disturb Ciela’s snack and tv show.
He made his way to the master bedroom and knocked softly at the door.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
“McCrae?”
“Yeah, I stopped by to-”
“Come on in.”
He thought he heard a note of relief in her voice and was smiling to himself when he opened the door and stepped inside.
Noelle got up from her art table with a grace he couldn’t even begin to approximate. She liked to sit on her chair with one leg tucked under.
How she managed to do that without having her leg fall asleep was beyond him.
“Hey, beautiful.” He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace with a soft smile, laying her cheek on his chest. “Need a break?”
She groaned and he smiled.
“Yes,” she turned her face into his chest and rocked her face back and forth, “how did you know?”
“I’d like to say that I’m just that great of a guy, but your mom told me that you could use a break.”
She went still and then she lifted her head until her chin touched his chest. “You are that great of a guy, but my mom is still right. I definitely need a break.”
Duval wasn’t sure if he should ask to look at what she was working on, but she beat him to the punch.
“You want to see what I’ve been working on?”
He smiled and she lifted up her hands, smoothing her fingertips at the corners of his eyes toward his temples.
“You have the cutest little wrinkles starting here.”
Her voice sounded softer, dreamier than it had been moments before.
“Wrinkles, babe?” He sighed and leaned in for a kiss. She returned it, slow and gentle. “Are you saying I’m getting old?”
She rolled her eyes. “Old, no. But vain? Prob’ly.” She took a step toward the desk, and he kept a hand on her lower back as he followed her. “I’m kind of at a stand still on the image.”
He stepped up beside her to look at her work and was surprised in the best way possible at what she had done.
The problem was, they all looked good.
“I think you can see the problem, right?”
He turned to look at her and saw the exasperation in her gaze. “Yeah. I know this isn’t what you do-”
“But I wanted to try. I feel like... I feel attached to this. To her.” She walked him through the half dozen images she’d drawn using the old, grainy black and white image as a reference.
“The first one was trying to clean up the original image. I used Donal and Bradley’s faces from that era as a reference, trying to gauge the distortion by their own faces from that time.
” She moved that image to the side and took another image and put it beside the older photo.
“I tried to figure out the skull beneath the image, but without more detail from the photo... It felt like I was working in the dark.”
She dropped her arm to her side and sighed.
“The rest are similar issues. Attempts using family resemblance, but that’s if he has a resemblance to his cousins. I’m... I’m... ugh!”
Noelle balled her fists up at her side. “I need a break.”
“I’ve got one for you. I already talked to your mom. She says CeeCee is likely going to sleep soon. Why don’t I take you out for food and a couple of beers. We can both take a few hours to relax.”
The smile that touched her lips... Well, it fucking touched his soul.
He needed this time with her.
Fuck.
He needed her.