Chapter 12 #2
Finally, someone’s hand touched my arm, steady and careful.
For a second, I thought it was Jack, but when I looked up through the blur, it was Detective Nolan.
“I’m so sorry, Nicole,” he said quietly.
Jack wasn’t done. He was furious. “You turned a voluntary interview into a shit show,” he barked at Nolan.
Nolan kept his hand under my arm, keeping me from sliding onto the floor.
“You’re charging a traumatized woman who hasn’t said a word.
” Jack’s voice was gravel now. “Based on circumstantial evidence and blood on her clothes. I assume there’s no murder weapon, or that would have been mentioned.
And without a weapon, you arrested and abused a mentally traumatized victim.
Good luck explaining that to a judge. Let’s go, Nicole.
I need to call my assistant. We need to get an emergency hearing with the judge as soon as possible. ”
I nodded. Tried to stand. But my body didn’t listen. My legs felt like gel, and I almost went down.
Nolan caught me before I hit the floor.
“I …” My tongue felt so heavy. My jaw shook. “I need a moment.”
Detective Nolan walked me over to a bench set against the wall and helped me sit like I was an old woman who needed a walker. “You go ahead,” I told Jack. “Call Susan. Every second matters. We need to get Lacey out of here. I’ll be right out.”
He narrowed his eyes at Nolan. That lawyer look. A warning.
“I’ll be okay,” I said. “Go.”
“Don’t sign anything or talk to anybody about the case.”
“Okay,” I promised.
Jack threw Nolan one more angry glare, then turned and headed down the hallway in long strides.
I thought Nolan would leave too. Go do whatever cops did after something like that. Write reports. Call superiors. Eat doughnuts.
Instead, he sat next to me.
“I know it doesn’t mean much,” he said quietly, “but I really didn’t expect it would go this way.”
He held out a handkerchief.
My sleeve was already soaked from wiping my face like a child. I hesitated and looked him in the eyes. And when I saw empathy staring back at me, I accepted the handkerchief.
It was still warm from his pocket and smelled faintly of aftershave.
“Thank you.”
We sat in silence. Phones rang steadily in the background. The low murmur of officers behind closed doors drifted through the hallway.
“I never thought something like this would happen to you,” he said, finally breaking the silence.
My brows pulled tight. His tone … he spoke as if he knew me.
“You were always so kind,” he added. “God, you don’t deserve any of this.”
I shook my head, confused.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I studied him. I sometimes ran into former students of mine. But I’d never taught a Nolan. I’d remember that name.
But when I looked into his kind, brown eyes, something started to stir. A memory fighting its way up through all the chaos.
“My first name is James. But the kids back then also called me—”
“Noodle,” I said, the word slipping out before I could stop it. My cheeks flushed. “Oh my God. How did I not recognize you?”
He gave a dry, sarcastic laugh. “Noodle.”
“I’m … so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.”
“It’s okay.” His smile was soft. “That was a long time ago.”
“Well, they were cruel,” I said firmly. “And it drove me nuts when they called you that. I had more than a few talks with parents to get their kids to stop ganging up on the smallest boy in the class and calling him awful names.”
He shrugged. “It’s the law of nature. Pick out the weakest. Pretend you’re strong by torturing them.”
I looked him over again. More intently this time.
He had to be almost six feet now. Broad-shouldered and fit. The kind of cop who looked like he could sprint across a parking lot and jump over a fence to catch a fleeing criminal.
“Well, look at you now,” I said, nudging his arm with my elbow. “Not so small anymore, huh? Fighting crime. And you’re already a detective? You must be really good at what you do. How old are you? Twenty-four?”
He smiled again. “Twenty-five.”
“Good for you. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you, but for some reason I thought your last name was Smith.”
His expression shifted back to serious. “It was. Until someone finally called CPS and reported seeing my dad beating me and my mom.”
Ah. Yes.
I remembered the bruises all over his back and arms. The sort of marks on a child that were unmistakable. CPS had told us that teachers couldn’t intervene without a witness, despite the mother trembling in my office and confirming the abuse.
“We finally got the chance to leave after they arrested my dad,” he said.
“I always wondered where you went. You just disappeared overnight that fall. We were told you left town with your mom. That your father was in prison.”
“Yeah. We went to live with my grandma and took my mom’s last name.”
“So Nolan is your mom’s name,” I said quietly.
“It is.”
He shook his head. “I’m really sorry you’re going through such hard times,” he said. “It’s smart to get that emergency hearing with the judge.”
“Lacey didn’t do this.” My voice trembled on the last word.
He pressed his lips together. “Funny. They all say that.” Then his gaze lifted and met mine. “But if she’s anything like you … then I believe it.”
I placed a hand on his arm. “Is there anything you can do for her?”
He slowly shook his head. “Not anymore. Kara Belmont is taking over. And it’s unusual for the AG’s office to be this involved—unless it’s a high-profile case.”
“A high-profile case?”
He nodded. “We have so many murders and missing-persons cases. The Nabb family must be really important to get this much attention from the AG’s office.”
“I didn’t know Zach’s family was important. I know they’re prominent real-estate developers, but powerful?”
“Where there’s a lot of money, political donations are usually on the table. Especially with real estate. Developers are always trying to push zoning laws and building codes, get things rewritten for them. And from what I can tell, they seem dead certain it was your daughter who did this.”
Silence. Again.
I gently squeezed his arm. “I better go. You take care of yourself, James. And thank you for your kindness.”
He stood with me, staying close in case I lost my balance again. “I’ll walk you out.”
“No. If it’s okay, I’d like to be alone for a bit.”
He managed a sad smile.
I returned the smile. And for a moment, I didn’t see that tall, young detective in front of me.
I saw little Noodle. The skinny boy who’d once been a head shorter than everyone else.
With his too-large backpack and crooked teeth.
But he was a man now. Fighting for others.
Surviving the kind of childhood most kids don’t walk away from.
“Thank you again,” I said and turned to leave.
His hand caught my arm. Not rough, but I could feel the urgency in his grip.
My eyes jumped to his hand. Then up to his face.
“Do you know who the attorney general is?” he asked.
I shrugged. “No.”
“You might want to look into that.”
“Why? Who is it?”
He stared at me for a long second. Something unreadable in his face.
“You’ll see,” he said. “I hope it’s nothing, but there’s a chance I’m not the only part of your past that’s catching up with you, Mrs. Kolter.”
My mouth opened, but before I could ask what he meant, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen, and his whole expression changed.
“I gotta take this.” He answered the call. “Hello?” A pause. “Shit. All right. I’ll be right there.”
He hung up.
“I have to go. Good luck, Mrs. Kolter.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, watching him rush down the hallway.
Then, suddenly, I felt lost again. Sad. Angry. Afraid. Numb.
The kids would have a meltdown when I came home without their mom. And Brian … oh God, Brian. He would spiral without Lacey. And Amanda. Where the hell was she? I was sure someone had already told her lies about Lacey.
I wanted to sit. To collapse again. My legs were still wobbly, and my blood pressure was probably too high.
But I couldn’t.
There was no time.
I had to find Jack. We needed to get Lacey out of jail as fast as possible.
And we also had a new assignment.
Look into the attorney general—to answer one very important question.
Why was this case getting his close attention?