Chapter 9 #2
Carson stood nearby, having refused to leave her side despite the nurses telling him he should go give his statement. His shirt was stained with her tears. His knuckles were bruised—probably from hitting something after Eugene was loaded into the ambulance.
He looked as wrecked as she felt.
“Can I go home?” Nora asked.
The doctor nodded. “You’re free to go. But I’d recommend staying with someone tonight. You’ve been through a trauma. You shouldn’t be alone.”
Nora almost laughed. Home. Where would that even be? Her apartment was a crime scene. Carson’s apartment was also a crime scene now.
“She’ll stay with me,” Carson said before she could respond. “I’ll make sure she’s looked after.”
The doctor gave him a knowing look. “Good. Make sure she eats something and gets rest. And if she has any trouble breathing or swallowing, bring her back immediately.”
After the doctor left, Nora turned to Carson. “Your apartment—”
“Is being processed by CSI. We can’t go back there tonight.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m taking you to a hotel. A real one this time, not some cheap place. Somewhere safe with actual security.”
“Carson—”
“Please.” His voice was rough. “Please just let me take care of this. Let me make sure you’re safe.”
Nora wanted to argue. Wanted to say she could handle herself, that she didn’t need him making all the decisions.
But the truth was, she was exhausted. Terrified. And the only place she felt safe was with him.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
***
The hotel Carson chose was upscale—the kind of place with a doorman and keycard-only elevator access. He got them adjoining rooms on the eighth floor, paying cash for both.
“I’ll be right next door,” he said, unlocking Nora’s room. “There’s a connecting door. Keep it unlocked on your side. If you need anything—anything at all—just knock.”
Nora stepped into the room. It was beautiful—plush bed, expensive furniture, a view of downtown Blackridge. Nothing like the bare functionality of Carson’s apartment.
Nothing like the bathroom where she’d hidden in terror just hours ago.
“I need to go give my statement,” Carson said from the doorway. “Captain’s waiting at the station. But I’ll be back in two hours, three max. Will you be okay until then?”
No. She wouldn’t be okay. The moment he left, she’d be alone with her thoughts. Alone with the memory of Eugene’s hand around her throat, the knife coming toward her, the certainty that she was going to die.
But she couldn’t say that. Couldn’t be that needy.
“I’ll be fine,” Nora lied.
Carson studied her for a long moment. “You don’t have to be fine, you know. You almost died today. You’re allowed to not be okay.”
The words broke something in her. Tears spilled over before she could stop them.
“I was so scared,” she whispered. “When he had that knife—I thought it was over. I thought you wouldn’t get there in time.”
“But I did.” Carson stepped into the room, closing the distance between them. “I did get there. And I will never let anyone hurt you again. Do you understand me?”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Watch me.”
He pulled her into his arms, and Nora went willingly, pressing her face against his chest and breathing him in. He smelled like gunpowder and sweat and safety.
“I’m sorry,” Carson murmured into her hair. “For last night. For pushing you away. For making you think I didn’t want—” He stopped. “This isn’t the right time for this conversation.”
“When will be the right time?”
“When you’re not traumatized and exhausted and bruised.” His arms tightened around her. “When I know for certain you’re safe. When I can think clearly and say what I need to say without screwing it up.”
Nora pulled back enough to look at him. “You’re not very good at this, are you? The emotional stuff.”
A small smile touched his mouth. “No. I’m terrible at it.”
“Good thing I’m patient.”
“Nora...” His hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently over her cheekbone. “What you said last night. About feeling safe with me. I need you to know—”
His phone rang. The ringtone that meant it was the station.
Carson swore under his breath. “I have to take this.”
“I know.”
He answered, and Nora watched his expression shift from tender to grim in seconds.
“What do you mean he’s not talking?” Carson listened, his jaw clenching. “Even with the evidence we found? The photos, the list of victims?” Another pause. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He ended the call and looked at Nora with frustration written all over his face.
“Eugene lawyered up,” he said. “Won’t say a word. His lawyer’s already claiming self-defense, saying he was at my apartment for legitimate reasons and I shot him without provocation.”
“That’s insane. He broke in. He attacked me—”
“I know. And we have evidence to prove it. But his lawyer’s good. He’s going to drag this out, try to get charges reduced.” Carson’s voice was tight with barely controlled rage. “Which means I need to go build an airtight case. Make sure there’s no way Eugene walks away from this.”
“Go,” Nora said. “Do what you need to do.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“I’ll be okay. You caught him. He’s in custody. I’m safe now.”
But even as she said it, something nagged at the back of Nora’s mind. Something that felt unfinished.
Eugene had said he’d been watching them. That he knew about the kiss. How had he known? How had he been watching Carson’s apartment when Carson had been so careful about security?
Unless Eugene had help.
Unless this wasn’t over.
Carson seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Lock the door behind me. Don’t open it for anyone except me. I mean it, Nora. No one.”
“I will.”
He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else. Then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead—gentle and lingering and full of promise.
“Two hours,” he said. “I’ll be back in two hours.”
Then he was gone.
Nora locked the door behind him and engaged the deadbolt and the chain. Then she stood in the middle of the too-quiet hotel room and tried to convince herself she was safe.
Eugene was caught. In custody. Facing serious charges.
So why did she still feel like someone was watching her?
***
Carson made it to the station in fifteen minutes, breaking at least six traffic laws in the process.
Captain Holloway was waiting in the interrogation observation room, watching Eugene through the one-way glass. Eugene sat calmly at the table, his shoulder bandaged, his lawyer whispering in his ear.
“He’s not giving us anything,” Holloway said without preamble. “Invoked his right to counsel immediately. Lawyer’s already filed a motion to suppress the evidence from the storage unit.”
“On what grounds?”
“Claims we didn’t have probable cause for the search.”
“We had financial records showing he was renting it. That’s probable cause.”
“His lawyer disagrees.” Holloway turned to face Carson. “But that’s not why I called you here.”
Something in his tone made Carson’s stomach sink. “What happened?”
“We ran Eugene’s phone records. The burner he used to text Nora, the one he used to call you at the storage unit—both purchased with cash, both untraceable.” Holloway paused. “But we found something else. Regular calls to and from a number registered to someone at Nora’s workplace.”
Carson’s blood ran cold. “Who?”
“Dan Morrison. Works in accounting. Same office as Nora.”
The name triggered a memory. Nora had mentioned Dan. Said he’d been acting weird, making comments about how she used to smile at him.
“Bring him in,” Carson said immediately.
“We tried. He didn’t show up for work today. And when we sent a unit to his apartment, he was gone. Place was cleared out. Looks like he left in a hurry.”
“Son of a bitch.” Carson’s hands clenched into fists. “Eugene wasn’t working alone.”
“That’s what it looks like. We’re pulling everything we can on Morrison—background, financials, known associates.
But, Carson?” Holloway’s expression was grave.
“If Morrison was working with Eugene, if they were coordinating... Eugene’s arrest might have triggered him to act. He might come after Nora himself.”
“She’s at the Grandview Hotel. Eighth floor. I’m going back there right now.”
“I’m sending a patrol unit to sit outside her room. And, Carson?” Holloway grabbed his arm. “You did good today. You saved her life. But be careful. This isn’t over yet.”
Carson was already halfway to the door.
Because Holloway was right.
This wasn’t over.
And Nora was still in danger.