Chapter 3 #2
She pursed her mouth and gave a dismissive shrug. “Yeah, well, it was harder on Allison than me. I’d already grieved the loss of my parents for all practical purposes long before their plane went down in the mountains.”
“What do you mean, you’d already grieved their loss? What happened?”
She waved off his question. “Not important now. All you need to know is that the call three years ago about our parents was the last time I talked to Allison. So, no, I know nothing about her love life or friends or new people.”
Eli grunted. “Another dead end. Damn.” His gaze flicked up, embarrassment flushing his cheeks. “Sorry. Poor word choice.”
“Whatever.” She wasn’t concerned with semantics or tiptoeing around each other based on false sensibilities. Gathering her thoughts, she tried a new line of inquiry. “You keep saying ‘he.’ You’re sure the killer is a man?”
He sipped his coffee, then nodded slowly. “Based on what little DNA we’ve found on the victims, yes. He’s careful, though, and leaves little trace evidence behind. Unfortunately, his DNA is not in CODIS, which is the US database, or in Canada’s system, either, so we haven’t got an ID on him yet.”
Their waiter appeared at the table again and asked if they were ready to order. When Noelle hesitated and scrabbled for the menu, Eli ordered his “regular.”
“Grilled salmon sandwich with fries,” the waiter said, not bothering to write it down.
Even though she could get all the fresh salmon she wanted in Seattle, Noelle told the waiter, “I’ll have the same.”
The waiter left, and Noelle nibbled her bottom lip as she processed what she’d learned. “So…he’s not in the system. Meaning he’s never been arrested before?”
“Not every person arrested is swabbed for DNA, but he likely hasn’t been arrested for a sex crime, violent crime or a number of other significant felonies.”
She frowned and lifted her beer for a sip, ruminating. “So what leads do you have? What ties the cases together? The news reports dubbed this guy the Fiancée Killer because of the diamond ring the victims wore, right?”
He nodded. “That’s right.”
“And I read that they were all found wearing a black dress. Right?”
He only stared at her with those heart-stopping blue eyes.
She took another swig of beer and steeled her nerve to ask a harder question. “How did Allison die? Did she suffer?”
He gave her a dubious look. “Noelle, do you really want to know the gritty details? Don’t torture yourself with that kind of information.”
Her grip tightened on her beer mug. “I know it’s not pleasant. And I don’t want to dwell on it, but… I need to know.”
“Why? What good does it do?” His voice was gentle, compassionate. His expression said he didn’t want to see her hurt.
Something in her core longed to reach out to him, to curl in the comfort his arms could provide…
and sob. But her brain shut that foolish impulse down.
She’d done what she had to in college in order to protect herself from that sort of vulnerability.
When she’d felt herself growing dependent on him, falling in love with him, putting her heart at risk for him, she’d broken things off, shut him out.
She wouldn’t unravel the years of work she’d put in, knitting together a protective cocoon, constructing a new life for herself that put him in the past.
She squared her shoulders, hoping to present herself as more determined and courageous than she felt. “Because I need closure.”
His blue eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. He nodded and appeared ready to tell her what she wanted to know, when she blew it by adding, “And because I want to work with you on the case. I want to help you catch the man who killed my sister.”
Eli sloshed the coffee he’d lifted toward his mouth, so stunned by Noelle’s pronouncement that he’d flinched. “What!”
“Before you get defensive—” she started, holding up her index finger.
He scoffed an incredulous laugh. “Not defensive. Just practical. And, well, following the law. You cannot be involved in this case. Period.”
“Not even if I can be helpful? I can offer my services at no charge to the ABI, and I won’t—”
“Your services?” His coffee splashed again as he thunked the ceramic mug onto the table harder than he intended. “Are you saying you’re in law enforcement?”
She shifted her weight restlessly on the padded booth seat. “Uh, no. But—”
“Well, then that’s an end to it. Case closed.”
“Would you listen? I can be valuable to the investigation.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”
Her jaw firmed, and she drilled him with a level, all-business stare. Despite the seriousness of her gaze, his belly jolted as he met her beautiful dark eyes, remembering…
“Analytics.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Computer analytics. Statistics. Data mining. It’s a way of looking at large amounts of information in new ways, looking for patterns and contrasts. Of maximizing data to reveal truths not readily apparent otherwise.”
“I know what analytics means. I’ve heard of sports teams using computer statistics and so forth to find the best players and the best game strategies. How would you use analytics on the Fiancée Killer investigation?”
“I’d input everything you know about the—”
“Nope, nope, never mind.” He waved both hands. “I shouldn’t have asked. You can’t be involved.”
Her brow furrowed over her dark brown eyes, and her mouth pinched.
“Not even if I can be useful? Are you so stuck on your blessed rules that you’d shut out an offer to make a difference in the case?
To get a better perspective on the big picture?
I might be able to help you get a clearer idea of the sort of person the killer is. ”
“That’s what our profiler does. We’re already compiling an outline of the killer’s likely personality and physical traits.”
The waiter arrived with their meals, and Eli hoped it would be enough to derail the conversation. But he should have known better.
“What has your profiler determined?” she asked, choosing a french fry from the stack on her plate.
He rolled his eyes. Noelle had always been stubborn. When she fixed her mind on an idea or plan of action, she could rarely be persuaded otherwise.
The most painful example of this was her notion that because of their differences—a term she never defined—they couldn’t have a future together.
After an intense and passionate two years together in college, she’d abruptly broken things off.
He’d tried to convince her he cared far more about the ways they were the same and that his love was strong enough to overcome any challenges.
But she’d been certain their differences would someday come back to bite them.
She’d said only that experience had taught her that even the people you loved and trusted most could change their mind about you and push you aside.
“Like you’re doing now to me?” he’d retorted hotly.
Her guilty expression had said his comment had hit its mark. “Well, I learned from the best.” She’d turned then and walked away, never to answer another call or text from him. Until two days ago, when he’d notified her of Allison’s death.
Rather than answer her question, Eli picked up his salmon sandwich and took a big bite. Two could play this game. And he had the policies of the ABI backing his stance not to involve her in the investigation.
When it became clear to her that he didn’t intend to answer, she groaned her frustration. “Okay then. I’ll guess.” She fixed a keen gaze on him, ignoring her food. He swore he could see the gears in her sharp brain turning. Calculating, even without her spreadsheets or analytics software.
“If he’s been operating for three years and killed five women that you know of without getting caught…
” she propped her chin on her hand, her elbow on the table “…he’s patient.
And if he hasn’t left any significant, useful evidence behind, then he’s intelligent.
Smart enough to think things through and be careful. So, he’s a planner. Organized.”
Eli took another bite of his sandwich and chewed, trying to keep his face impassive despite being impressed with her logic. And accuracy.
She tilted her head to one side. “Am I right so far?”
He reached for the ketchup and squirted a puddle onto his plate.
“I am, aren’t I? Your silence says yes, even if you don’t.”
He scowled at her. “That makes no sense. Silence is just silence. I’m not committing to anything one way or another.”
When she continued to stare intently at him, clearly reading his expression, trying to catch him out, he dropped his gaze to his plate. He dipped a fry into the ketchup and grumbled when the sauce dripped on his shirt on the way to his mouth.
Noelle chuckled. “I am right. You would always get peevish and evasive when you knew you’d been outflanked. At chess or poker or in life.”
That she’d remembered that detail about him, that she’d used it against him, only irritated him more.
He huffed and pushed his plate away. “Fine. You’re right about the killer’s profile, but you haven’t deducted anything our department hadn’t figured out within the first few hours of gathering evidence from the first body. ”
She sat back with a smug smile on her face and lifted her beer for another long drink.
“But,” he added before she tried to wheedle any more information from him, “I still can’t tell you anything else about the case.”
Her grin morphed to a disgruntled pout.
“Besides, I brought you here so you could release some steam regarding your aunt’s nasty behavior.” He waved a hand. “So vent away.”
Noelle rolled her eyes. “What’s the point? It’s nothing I’m not used to.”
Eli cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
She gave him a withering look. “I mean not every family is as happy and loving as the Coltons are. You may have grown up with familial harmony and support, but not everyone’s so lucky.”
“So your aunt’s always been like that?” he asked, a pang of sympathy spearing him. He had been lucky in most family matters. He and his siblings were as close to his cousins as to each other. Holidays were joyful, celebratory events, and support was woven into the family motto, Believe.
Noelle lifted her sandwich rather than answering him. “Mmm. That’s good fish. But isn’t salmon fishing over this late in the year? It can’t be wild caught, could it?”
“Depends on the weather. Some years, RTA takes groups out salmon fishing as late as October or early November. Mostly Coho this late in the season, though, if I remember right, but you’d have to ask my cousin, Spence. I don’t get too involved in RTA business.”
“RTA?” she asked.
“Rough Terrain Adventures.”
She nodded. “Oh right. Your family’s outdoor adventure tours company. I remember now.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Now who’s being evasive and stealthily changing the subject?”
She set down her sandwich and plucked up another fry. “We can go back to talking about the investigation if you like.”
When she batted her eyelashes in feigned innocence, Eli laughed. “Oh, Noelle. I have missed you.”
When her cheeks blanched and her eyes widened, he realized how his offhand remark had sounded. But he wouldn’t take it back. Because he had missed Noelle. Terribly.
And now, with her back in town for a few days, he had his chance to repair the gulf between them. He had the chance to right whatever had gone wrong all those years ago.