Chapter 15
WEBB
The moment I walk through the doors of Blade and Arrow, my heart lifts.
My pace quickens from a walk to a jog as I hurry across the communal living room.
My duffel bag swings along with my movement, bouncing against my hip.
Unlike the other times I’ve come home from a job, when I’d do a quick sweep of the offices to see who was around, my attention is solely on getting back to my apartment.
Not that Noelle’s there, unfortunately. She went back to staying at her place in Williston last week, much to my secret dismay.
“I can’t hog the client apartment,” she explained. “You have other clients. People who need a safe place to stay.”
Technically, Noelle wasn’t really staying in the client apartment by then.
Her things were there, but she’d been spending the nights with me since the night Indy found out about the cameras in her old rental in Portland.
And after over a week of sleeping next to her—holding her in my arms, soothing her after her nightmares, sharing early morning sex and cooking breakfast together after—I wasn’t thrilled to hear about her plans to leave.
But as I held an inner debate with myself—Is it too soon to ask her to move in? Does it matter?—Noelle effectively put an end to it. “I love being here with you,” she said. “But I think it’ll be good for me to be back at my apartment for a while.”
When I opened my mouth to argue, she stopped me with a kiss.
“I’m still planning on spending a lot of time here.
We’ve got our weekly World of Warcraft session with Gage and Knox.
Eden and Bea want to start up a regular movie and charcuterie night.
Ace said he’s going to grill next weekend if the weather’s nice.
Plus—” She smiled sweetly at me. “Your bed is pretty comfortable. Much more than mine.”
“So you’re only using me for my bed?” I teased.
Her smile sobered. “Of course not. I love being here with you. But it’s time for me to clear out of the client apartment. And as much as I love having you close, I want to prove to myself that I can be on my own.”
I wanted to ask her if it would make a difference if she moved in with me.
I wanted to tell Noelle that I hated the idea of being away from her.
But it wouldn’t have been fair to push for more than she’s ready for.
Although I considered it. The first night Noelle was back in Williston, I couldn’t sleep for the worry.
Was she having nightmares, but this time, I wouldn’t be there to comfort her?
Was she scared? What if there was something about Ken Donaldson we missed, an accomplice who was determined to pick up where Donaldson left off?
But after combing through hundreds of files, pages of financial records, and phone logs for both Donaldson’s personal phone and the four burners he owned, we found no sign of an accomplice.
It was just one perverted man with an obsession with young, beautiful women who he had easy access to thanks to his position.
In the two weeks since the police discovered Donaldson’s body, six women have been informed about the secret recordings.
Five of them had no idea it was even going on, but one, like Noelle, caught him in the act.
In her case, she was too afraid of his influence to do anything, so instead, she quit her job and moved across the country to work for a community college as an acting instructor.
“I can’t imagine how awful it must be for them,” Noelle told me. “All this time, and they didn’t even know. Maybe it would have been better if they still didn’t.”
Then she went quiet for a while, just thinking.
“Actually, no. They deserved to know what was done to them. They deserve to know that he can’t do it again.
And even if they didn’t know about the recordings, I bet he did other things.
Inappropriate things. Staring. Touching.
Making them feel like they had to take it or lose their jobs. ”
Honestly, I’m not sure if we made the right decision.
But the alternative—covering up Donaldson’s actions—didn’t feel right, either.
It’s one thing tampering with evidence when it involves someone I know, and she gave permission to do it.
But to make that decision arbitrarily for a group of women I’ve never met?
“We’re not the judge and jury,” Ace reminded me when I brought up my concerns to him. “Yes, we operate in the gray area sometimes when it impacts the safety of our clients and the people we care about. But the other women? It’s not our place to hide it.”
Still. I worry about them. And I know the rest of the team does, too. That’s why we’re keeping an eye on the six women and setting up an anonymous non-profit to cover any counseling expenses they might need in the future.
As I near the hallway, I mentally reshuffle my thoughts, setting the bad ones to the side and bringing the ones about Noelle to the front. I slide my phone from my pocket to check it again, smiling to myself as I read her last message.
Just heading to work. I can’t wait to see you. It’s only been three days, but it feels like so much longer. Will you be back in town by lunch, do you think? I can save you a table if you’d like to stop by the diner. Doug made his strawberry rhubarb pie, and I can put a piece aside for you.
That was three hours ago, right before she headed to her shift at the diner.
I was still in Seattle with Tyler, finishing up a consult with the same CEO I’d met with a couple months before.
I didn’t want to go out of town yet, but it hardly seemed fair to put the job on one of my teammates when, really, there was no reason I couldn’t do it.
It gives me a new appreciation for how hard it must be for Rafe and Indy when they’re traveling for a job.
But at least they have the reassurance of Eden and Bea living at Blade and Arrow, where they know they’ll be safe.
Noelle is ten minutes away in her little apartment, with significantly less security to protect her.
Well. I may have upgraded her security again. And asked the guys if they’d drive by to check on her. And I gave her a custom necklace with a GPS tracker inside it, just to be safe.
Yes, I know she thought I was being overprotective when I gave it to her.
But really, can you ever be too protective when it comes to the woman you love?
Hoisting the strap of my duffel over my shoulder, I start down the hallway while typing out a quick text to Noelle.
Just got back to B and A. I’m going to take a quick shower, change, and then I’ll head over to the diner. Should be there in under half an hour. Love you.
Smiling to myself, I slide the phone back into my pocket.
Then I unzip my duffel to peek inside, making sure the gift I bought for Noelle didn’t somehow disappear between Seattle and here.
But no, the little stuffed newt is still sitting safely inside, the hopefully perfect companion for Bigfoot and Grizzle.
“I hope she likes you,” I tell the newt, giving him a quick pat on the head. Then I re-zip the bag and quicken my pace as I near my apartment.
“Webb.”
From behind me, Rafe’s voice carries an undercurrent of urgency that makes my muscles tense. And when I turn to face him, his expression only adds to it.
“What’s up?” I ask, selfishly hoping he’s not about to tell me something that’ll delay me going to see Noelle. “Did you want to talk about the Seattle job? I submitted my reports and recommendations already. If you—”
“It’s not the Seattle job.” As he nears me, I notice the concern in his gaze.
“What is it, then?” A worrying thought hits me. “Is it Eden? Is she okay?”
“Eden’s fine.” Rafe comes to a stop. His features are hard. Solemn. A muscle in his jaw twitches. “I was going to call you, but then I saw you come in, so—” He grimaces.
My gut twists. “What’s wrong?”
He puffs out a heavy breath. “I just got the autopsy report on Ken Donaldson.”
Worry sharpens my tone. “And?”
“He didn’t die of natural causes, like we thought.”
“What?”
Rafe gives a quick nod. “They didn’t prioritize it because it seemed cut and dry. Sixty-two-year-old male, high blood pressure, suspected heart attack…” He scowls. “The guy was poisoned.”
“What?”
“Arsenic. Can you believe that?” He shakes his head. “Fucking arsenic. Did you know you can buy it online? It’s— Never mind. It doesn’t matter. But this changes things.”
“Someone killed him?” My pulse races at the implications. “How did they do it?”
“They don’t know yet. The results just came in this morning. Tyler’s on it right now. And I’m going to head to Portland to meet with the police.”
A chilling thought clutches at me. “What if they think Noelle did it? She would have had motive. She hadn’t left Blade and Arrow, but still, they’ll question her. She’s already been—”
I snatch at my phone. “I need to call her. Shit.”
“Where is she now?” Rafe asks.
“The diner. She’s working a double. She texted me… three hours ago. Right when she was leaving for her shift.”
My gut isn’t just telling me something’s wrong, it’s shouting it.
We thought everything was over. But if Donaldson was poisoned… Fuck. The police will drag her in for questioning, and even though she’s got an ironclad alibi—she was here with seven other people around—it’ll be so incredibly stressful for her. Her nightmares…
As her phone kicks over to voicemail, the terrible feeling in my gut intensifies. I leave her a message to call me back, then send a text saying the same.
Rafe looks at me with a concerned expression. “She’s not answering?”
“No.” I drop my duffel on the floor. “She’s probably busy, but… shit. I just need to talk to her.”
Forget showering and changing. I need to get over there now. Turning on my heel, I start jogging back towards the living room. “I’m going over to the diner. I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“Spidey. Calm down.”
I spin back around and snap, “How can I calm down? They’re going to drag her to the station.
Accuse her of murdering the man who harassed her.
He had a fucking gun in his closet, Rafe.
An unregistered gun. Fuck knows what he was going to do with it.
She would have been in her rights to kill him.
But Noelle… she feels guilty that she’s not sad about him dying. She would never—”
Rafe closes the distance between us and grips my shoulder, giving it a hard shake.
“Calm. Down. We’ll handle it. And before you drive over there like a maniac, just call the diner.
They have a landline there, don’t they? You can talk to Noelle.
Ask her if she can cut out of work early.
Bring her back here, we’ll all meet, and we’ll take care of this. Okay?”
Shit. He’s right.
Taking several deep breaths, I take out my phone again. Then I dial the number for Doug’s Diner, reminding myself while the phone rings not to snap at whoever answers.
On the third ring, a woman picks up the phone. She sounds breathless. Stressed. “Doug’s Diner,” she says. “This is Glenda. How can I help you?”
“Glenda,” I reply, working hard to keep my tone calm. “It’s Webb. Is Noelle there? It’s very important that I speak with her.”
There’s a long pause, where all I can hear is the buzz of diners in the background. Then she says, “Noelle isn’t here.” She stops. “Hang on. Let me get Doug.”
My mouth goes dry. “She’s not there,” I hiss at Rafe. “What the fu—”
“Webb?” Doug’s voice comes across the line. “What’s going on?”
“Noelle. She’s not there?”
He sighs. “No, she didn’t show up for her shift, so I called her about twenty minutes after. She sent me a text saying she’s sick. It didn’t seem like her, not calling ahead, but I know she’s been through a tough time.”
My pulse throbs in my throat. “Thanks,” I reply absently. Then I end the call with a numb finger.
“Spidey?” Rafe asks. “What’s going on?”
“She called out. But she texted me before work. She didn’t say she was sick. Why… if she didn’t want to worry me…”
I know there could be a logical explanation for this. Maybe Noelle really is sick, and she didn’t want me rushing back from Seattle because of it. Maybe she got food poisoning, and it came upon her without warning. Maybe—
Fuck. There could be a logical explanation. But my gut is telling me it’s something far worse than that.
“I need to go to her apartment.” I start jogging towards the front door. “I need to make sure she’s okay. If she’s sick, maybe she’s hurt...”
Only feet from the door, an even worse possibility strikes me.
And that’s why, instead of racing to my car, I reach for my phone.
Scarcely breathing, silently praying, I open the tracking app that’s connected to the necklace I gave her.
The app that’ll show me—oh shit, I hope—that she’s still at her apartment in Williston.
Once I see that, I can go over there. See what’s wrong.
Bring her to the doctor if necessary. Or have Indy come look at her.
Shit, forget that. I’ll bring Noelle back here, where she belongs.
In the moments it takes for the app to load, I tell myself I’m just overreacting. Noelle’s fine, I’m panicking over nothing, just being the overprotective boyfriend she tells me I am.
Then the app opens.
I click on her name.
The map zooms out before re-centering again.
Noelle’s little red dot appears.
My lungs seize.
Oh, shit.
“Spidey?” Rafe’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a great distance. “Where is she?”
My throat narrows.
Panic steals my breath.
I don’t want to believe it. But the proof is right there.
“She’s in the middle of the fucking state. Almost a hundred and fifty miles away.”
Rafe mutters a series of curses.
As I’m watching her red dot, it starts flashing. A shrill alarm sounds.
My legs go weak.
She triggered the necklace. She hit the little button on the back, the one I told her would signal us if she’s ever in trouble.
“I need to get there. I need—” My voice cracks. “Fuck. I need to get to her.”
Rafe’s already on his phone, barking orders. But he pauses, his solemn gaze jumping to mine. “We’ll get to her. And we’ll bring her home.”