Chapter 5
Eli opened his mouth and closed it again, clearly swallowing the burning questions that had to be bubbling inside him like magma, ready to erupt.
Noelle respected his willpower, his ability to shove down the queries.
But he was a man of integrity. He’d promised to let the topic rest during their dinner, and he would honor his promise.
“How about this?” she asked, reaching across the table to lay her hand on his. “Tomorrow or the next day, we can make a trade. You have questions about our breakup, and I have questions about my sister’s murder. We’ll meet somewhere quiet and swap information.”
His brow dipped in consternation. “You’re going to hold personal information about our relationship hostage if I don’t give you classified intelligence on an active investigation? That’s apples and oranges, Noelle. Not an even trade.”
A pulse of heat spiked in her core. “When you put it that way, it sounds bad. I only meant we both want information…”
“I can’t barter case information, Noelle.”
She nodded, guilt plucking at her. “Of course not. Forget I asked.”
“But…” His cheek dented, telling her he was biting the inside of his mouth.
She remembered from college this habit of his that told her he was deep in thought. Images of him from those earlier days flashed in her brain. Her chest knotted with bittersweet agony, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“You mentioned before that you think your work in analytics could help us get a better overview of the case.” Eli took a slow sip of his water. “How would that work?”
Noelle straightened in her chair, the first whispers of encouragement stirring in her since she’d arrived in Alaska.
“It’s really not as complicated as it sounds.
” She filled her tone with the enthusiasm for her job and the hope that she could offer something to the investigation.
“I’ll feed case data into the programs, at which point I can then break the information down statistically or create databases to search for commonalities or use for cross-reference.
Tell me what would be most helpful, and I’ll do my best to get the program to run that analysis for you. ”
He snorted and gave her a wry grin. “Any chance it can look at the case as a whole and spit out the name and address of the perpetrator? ’Cause that’s what I need it to do.”
Returning an enigmatic smile, she lifted her chin. “You never know until you try.”
After finishing their meal, Eli had asked for a demonstration of Noelle’s analytic programs. “I’m not promising anything regarding the Fiancée Killer case, but I am intrigued to see what you do for a living.”
Noelle vacillated briefly. While she still wanted to avoid an overly intimate setting, she couldn’t miss this opportunity to prove the value she could add to the investigation.
In the end, she had him follow her back to the hostel.
As she set up her laptop, she tried not to think about the bed just feet away and how she’d tossed and turned the night before, her body aching for Eli and her mind replaying sensual encounters from their past. Summertime skinny-dipping.
All-nighter studying that eventually evolved into sex at dawn.
Dinners that turned into frisky food fights and creative uses for vanilla pudding and sugar sprinkles.
When the software was up and running, she cast a sly side glance at him. “The best way to show you the program’s usefulness to you would be to input information from the case and let it run a simple algorithm.”
He arched a dark eyebrow and gave a soft laugh.
“You’re right, of course.” Turning up his palms, he stalked back toward the front door.
“Fine. You’ve worn me down. I’ll call you a hired consultant on the case, which means you’re sworn to protect the information I share with you and keep the details confidential. ”
She lifted her chin, relieved to finally be getting what she wanted but also a tad hurt he’d felt the need to couch the access as he had. “You don’t need to call me a consultant before you confide in me with the case information. Do you really not have any more faith in me than that?”
He sighed heavily, dipping his head as he stared at the floor. “Of course I trust you, but this satisfies the department’s protocols.”
“So why didn’t you call me a consultant the first time I asked?”
His head came up, and the muscles in his jaw flexed and bunched.
“Because your potential contribution to the case wasn’t evident then.
I can’t grant every family member and inquisitive citizen special status on a whim.
” He flipped up his palm in query. “Why are you being prickly about this? You got what you wanted.”
Why, indeed? She needed to rein in her turbulent emotions.
She was already walking a thin line between professionalism and heartbreak with Eli.
The only way she would survive this trip with her soul intact was to detach her emotions from her business.
She only had to keep it together a few days, a couple weeks, and she could find closure with both Allison and Eli.
She exhaled a cleansing breath, sobered by the promise of putting the past firmly behind her at last. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re doing me a favor, and I’m being difficult. Forgive me.”
He took a step nearer her and brushed a wisp of her hair back from her face. The tips of his fingers skimmed her cheek, and her pulse skittered. “Forgiven.”
He lingered a moment too long. His gaze, the same startling blue of an Alaskan glacier, held hers, making her heart thump and a hum of longing stir deep inside her.
“Let me get my case files from the Jeep,” he said at last. His timbre held a husky rasp that fanned the heat in her belly. “Be right back.”
“So much for emotional distance,” she muttered to herself as she returned to her laptop and opened the software. But then her body had a mind of its own, it seemed, when it came to Eli. How did she quash an attraction so strong that a simple touch or lingering look could turn her on so powerfully?
“Why couldn’t the lead on the case have been some wrinkled, smelly, old man? Or a brash, icy woman?”
“What’s that?” Eli asked, returning from his vehicle.
She chuckled awkwardly. “Just talking to myself. So what do you have?” She gestured to an empty spot where he could set his files as she slid her chair over to make room for him to pull another up beside her.
They huddled over the laptop, choosing bits of information that could be processed and organized in ways that might reveal patterns. The ages and physical description of the victims. Their level of education. Line of work. Home address. Frequently visited restaurants, stores, offices. Hobbies.
Noelle studied the data her program spit out, hoping some telling pattern or salient characteristic stood out.
“Hmm.” Though thoughtful instead of sexual, Eli’s low hum vibrated in her like a plucked guitar string.
Swallowing hard, she glanced at him and studied the furrow in his brow. “Do you see something new?”
“Not exactly, but it’s interesting to look at things from a different angle, so to speak.”
She found herself staring at the cut of his jaw and savoring the light scent of his aftershave. Focus, Noelle. You’re supposed to be helping. Show him the value you can offer the investigation.
Turning back to the computer, she tapped a few keys. “We can analyze the raw data for a number of factors, even though our sample size is small.” She hit Enter on the keyboard, and after a moment, the program displayed a number of graphs and charts. “Voilà!”
He nodded. “Impressive.”
She studied the displayed information and pointed to the screen. “That’s curious.”
He leaned closer, squinting at the laptop. “Huh. All of the victims had dark brown hair and blue eyes.”
“That’s not a common combination.” She pointed to the statistic the program had produced.
“Most dark brunettes have brown or green eyes, statistically speaking. I don’t remember the exact percentage, but my parents used to comment on how special Allison’s blue eyes made her.
” She forcefully quelled the spike of envy that reared its head.
“Here…” She clicked the mouse and called up new data.
“We can cross-reference and get the exact—wow. According to this, fewer than ten percent of people with black hair have blue eyes.”
Eli gave a wry grunt. “Guess that makes my family the exception to the rule. Most of us have dark brown or black hair and blue eyes.”
A tingle raced through her as she met the blue eyes in question. “Really? The whole family? That’s exceptionally rare.”
“That’s genetics,” he said with a grin. “My parents both have blue eyes. And my uncle Ryan.”
“So does this mean anything to you?” She waved a hand at the laptop screen, indicating the new statistical data.
“Well… I don’t believe in coincidence. Clearly this connects the victims in a new way we hadn’t recognized.
I’ll take this to the team in the morning, but in the meantime…
” He pivoted on his chair to fully face her.
“You’ve made your point. Your analytics could prove very useful in breaking the case. Well done.”
Pleasure poured through Noelle, disproportionate to the small admission from Eli.
Having his approval, knowing she had something to add to the case, seeing the light that came into his eyes, directed at her, soothed an ancient ache.
The hurt predated Eli by many years but had contributed to their breakup and a different sort of pain in the years since college.
She’d found ways to compensate for her childhood wounds, had built a life and a career and a self-confidence to match the one she projected to the world, but…
Returning to Alaska, seeing Eli and dealing with her aunt had all contributed to unearthing the vulnerabilities of her past. Raw places she’d thought healed were scraped and bleeding again.
“Noelle? Are you okay?”