Chapter 15

The whoosh of blood pulsed in Noelle's ears, but it was the hand on her throat that made her heart race. She snatched the person's wrist and clamped down. No way would she allow anyone to strangle her again.

"Easy. It's only me."

"Jonah?" She opened her eyes. Why was the roof of the car below her? She searched her memories, struggling through the fog in her brain. The train. The accident. "Are you hurt?"

Noelle released his hand. What if the guy who'd tried to kill them stopped and lay in wait to finish what he'd started? She had to get outside now and protect Jonah.

Jonah removed his finger from her throat. "Nothing a few ibuprofens and a couple of ice packs won't fix."

Her fingers fumbled with the seatbelt release. Coordination wasn't her friend right now.

"Here. Let me. Brace yourself on my shoulders so you don't fall." Jonah placed her hands on himself and clicked the button.

Her knees hit the steering column on the way down, and she bit back a cry. Once crouched on the ground, she took inventory of her surroundings. The front windshield had cracked and popped out, the side windows had shattered, and the hood had sustained the majority of the damage. It was a miracle they could walk away from the accident with only minor injuries.

Thank You, God, for the protection.

Who had targeted them? Her mind wandered. Why? Her thoughts kept floating away. She must have hit her head harder than she thought. She blinked to clear the haze. The world snapped into place.

"My gun." She tapped the small of her back. Her holster and weapon in place, she exhaled. "Stay tucked in here. I'm going to make sure the area is clear. I don't want this guy succeeding in killing you."

Jonah cupped her cheek. "Be careful."

She nodded, drew her Glock, and crawled from the crumpled vehicle. Sirens whined in the distance. Her muscles relaxed a smidge, but until the cavalry arrived, she had to maintain her vigilance. After a sweep of the area, she sagged against the car.

"Is he out there?" Jonah poked his head out the broken window.

"He doesn't appear to be. But stay there until the police show up." She had no desire for him to come out in the open until she had backup.

Twenty minutes later, sitting on the bench seat in the back of the ambulance, the ache where the seatbelt had caught her across the shoulder intensified.

Noelle would feel the full damage from the car accident tomorrow. She'd survived—and make no mistake about the gratitude she felt—but the slices on her forearms from the debris caused her stomach to roil. More scars to add to her collection. Wouldn't her mother be proud.

A humorous laugh fell from her lips.

"What was that for?"

She lifted her gaze to Jonah, who sat beside her in the ambulance. The man hadn't left her side. "Just thinking about my parents."

His eyebrow arched.

"A story for another time." She lifted her hand to her temple and probed the bandage that covered a gash from the wreck. "How did he find us?"

"Well, we were asking a lot of questions. Maybe one of the employees at the tattoo shops tipped him off."

Noelle waved a hand, dismissing his suggestion. "If the owner of Body Murals is correct, my serial killer isn't around anymore. So who is after us?"

Jonah commandeered the supplies from the paramedic and took over cleaning her cuts.

The young guy shook his head and hopped from the medic unit. "I'll be right out here if you need anything, Doc."

"You just kicked him out of his own ambulance."

"I figured you'd prefer taking care of your upper arms in private." He pointed to the tears in her sleeves and shrugged. "And don't you mean who's after me—not us?"

"Maybe. But what if the two sets of cases are linked?"

"We considered that. Remember the markings?" Jonah examined the cuts.

The commands and comments of EMS workers and the hum of heavy equipment droned outside. She sat in her own little world and stared at Jonah with morbid fascination while he worked. "I know that. I'm thinking a deeper connection, not just a copycat."

"Talk me through it."

"Honestly, I'm probably grasping." Jonah tweezed out a piece of glass, and she sucked in air through her teeth. "It's more of a gut feeling than solid proof."

"I trust your gut." After dousing her right arm with saline solution for a final clean and smearing ointment on the wounds, he wrapped her forearms like the professional he was. "I vote we go to your place and call the others instead of holding a meeting at the EGA office."

Her head did hurt, and her body ached. She'd be shocked if Jonah's torso didn't have bruises that he was hiding. "I like that plan."

"I'll take care of the rest of the cuts once we get there." He cleaned up the mess and set the supplies aside. "I'll talk with one of the officers on scene and get us a ride while you fill out the refusal of transport paperwork."

Unable to summon the energy for more than a nonverbal agreement, she nodded. She appreciated the fact that Jonah hadn't pushed her to go to the emergency room.

A few moments later, the paramedic handed her a clipboard. "I'm not even going to ask. Go ahead and sign it." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "You're in good hands with Doc."

She scribbled her name on the line. "You know him?"

"Who doesn't? He was—still is—one of the best ER doctors around. We lost a good doctor at the hospital when he left."

A vise tightened around her heart. He'd thrown away a career he loved because he couldn't let go of the perceived failure. "If you get a chance, let him know that."

The paramedic studied her, then grinned. "Will do." He glanced at the forms. "You're good to go."

She accepted his hand and stepped from the ambulance into the bright sun. She squinted, wishing she knew where her sunglasses had landed in the wreck.

Jonah strode toward her. "Officer Adams is going to take us home. Plus, he has your things."

"All of them?" She quirked a brow. When the officers had arrived on scene, she'd mentioned her backup gun in the center console of the car.

"Yes. He said since you hadn't fired it, there was no need to log it into evidence. And of course, your law enforcement privileges helped as well."

Reality came crashing down on her. The near-death experience had scrambled her thoughts. Even with officers on the scene, Jonah's safety took priority. She had to get her act together. "I want you out of here and behind closed doors."

"My, my, Miss Noelle. Whatever do you mean?" He fanned his face. His fake Southern-belle accent and high-pitched tone made her laugh.

She playfully smacked his arm. "Not like that, you dufus."

He chuckled. "Let's get out of here."

They slid into the backseat of Officer Adams's cruiser, and she rattled off her address. "I appreciate the lift."

The officer glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. "My pleasure." He pulled away from the chaos and aimed the vehicle toward her home.

Noelle retrieved her phone from her pocket and called Raven. The admin promised to fill in the others and set up a conference call for later. Noelle glanced at Jonah. He'd leaned his head back, but his gaze darted along the sides of the street through the tiny slits of his lowered eyelids. If only they both could rest. But the day's events had her mind spinning.

Her attention shifted from the side mirrors to the surrounding neighborhood, not letting her guard down, as the officer made his way to her house.

"Ms. Burton. Dr. Harris. Is there anything else I can do for you?" Officer Adams pulled his squad car next to the curb.

Noelle breathed a sigh of relief. A few more minutes and she'd have Jonah safely inside with the security system on. "No, I think we're good. Thank you."

Jonah straightened.

"Ready to go?"

He grunted and swiped his face with his hand. "I can move if I have to."

She chuckled. "You have to."

The officer hurried around the car and opened the backseat passenger door for them. "Sorry for your troubles. I'll send you a copy of the report from your accident."

"I appreciate that." Noelle slid from the car.

"Would you like assistance clearing the house?" Adams shut the car door.

"No, thank you. I think we're good." Noelle shook the man's hand and stepped onto the sidewalk.

With a final goodbye, she and Jonah strode up the walkway and entered the house. She punched in the security code, then rearmed the system.

Jonah stared at the red light on the panel. "I'd like to say that's not necessary, but instead, I'll say I'm grateful." He shook his head as if dislodging the thought. "I'll grab the first-aid kit and clean the rest of your cuts."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Noelle appreciated his thoughtfulness at the scene. The last thing she wanted was someone else seeing her scars. "I'll go change and meet you in the kitchen. It seems to be our triage center." She flashed him a grin and laid her weapons on the end table next to the couch.

He rolled his eyes. "Go."

Once in her room, she pulled her shirt off, careful not to rub her sleeves against her wounds, and tossed it in the garbage. The slices in the material didn't leave much hope of salvaging it. She eyed her normal three-quarter-sleeve tops and decided to ignore her mother's voice that crept into her mind. She donned a tank top and changed her jeans. Jonah had seen the white lines that marred her skin, so why worry? The man didn't seem bothered by them. But, unable to bring herself to go without a cover, she gathered a white button-down blouse before closing her closet, just in case she had unexpected company.

When she entered the kitchen, Jonah had the supplies lined up on the table like a surgeon with his instruments. She struggled to hold back a laugh and failed.

His gaze lifted and landed on her bare arms. He froze for a moment—so brief she thought she'd imagined it. "What? I may be a hot mess with everything else, but I'm dialed in when it comes to my skills as a doctor." His sheepish look reminded her of an embarrassed little boy.

"Riiiight." She drew out the word, hoping for a smile. And he didn't disappoint.

"Have a seat. Let me tend to those cuts."

Cuts. Which ones? The recent or the past? He hadn't judged her when he'd seen her scars. In fact, he'd even touched them. But over time, would they disgust him?

"Come on. I want to make sure you don't have glass embedded in your skin." He patted the chair.

She hung her cover-up blouse on the back of another chair, then sat. "I think you enjoy your job a bit too much."

"I'll never tell." He chuckled and got to work tending to her injuries.

The antiseptic solution he used on the open wounds stung. Tears pooled, but she blinked them away. She'd experienced worse. Much worse.

A few minutes later, Jonah cleaned up his mess and washed his hands. "Good as new."

"Sure," she muttered, hoping he hadn't heard her. "Thanks for taking care of me so that I didn't have to go to the hospital."

He brushed the backs of his fingers along her cheek. "Anything to make you feel more comfortable." His brown eyes connected with her blue ones.

His touch made her belly flutter. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. Could she really have it all?

The front door handle jiggled.

Jonah's eyes widened. "Are you expecting anyone?"

"No." Noelle slipped on her blouse, then snatched her Glock from where she'd placed it when she entered. "Stay in the kitchen," she whispered. Taking time to cover her arms was stupid, but ingrained actions died hard.

She moved without sound to the door. Taking a deep breath, she widened her stance and took aim.

Whoever stood on the outside would have to get through her to kill Jonah.

* * *

Jonah tucked himself behind the partial wall of the kitchen and resisted the urge to step beside Noelle. It went against every protective fiber in his being to let her stand between him and danger. But he wouldn't interfere. The woman he'd admired for the past year and who he'd come to care about more than he'd like to admit was an Elite Guardian. He trusted Noelle with his life.

Not having a line of sight made his pulse race. He closed his eyes and listened.

The door opened and footfalls hit the entry tiles.

"Freeze. Hands up!"

A scream filled the air.

"Raven?" Noelle's question had him joining her by the door. "What are you doing here?"

One hand covered Raven's heart, the other shaking as she held a travel carrier of coffees. Her breaths came in pants, and her bag and envelopes lay scattered on the floor. "You scared me."

Noelle holstered her weapon, then hurried to close the door. She turned and tapped in the security code before the alarm blared.

"I brought some yummy goodness from Bitty and Beau's along with Jonah's mail and extra clothes." Raven offered the cardboard carrier to Jonah. He took it.

If not for the stoppers in the cups, small puddles of coffee would have lined the interior of the tray. "Thanks for the drinks." He placed them on the table and returned to where the women stood.

Raven gathered the items from the floor. "I thought you'd still be at the scene. I wanted to surprise you."

"Oh, you surprised us all right." Noelle smirked.

"When I heard about the accident, I had just left Jonah's house." Raven gave him his mail. "By the way, your cat is fine. A little needy, but Samson's a sweetheart." She put the duffel bag next to the couch and collapsed onto the cushions.

"I appreciate you taking care of him." He wished, not for the first time, that his little angel with claws was with him. He'd adopted Samson soon after losing Cara. He was man enough to admit the furball had helped with the gut-wrenching pain. And now Samson eased the stress from a hard day at work. Better than blood pressure meds.

"Are you two okay?" Raven asked.

Jonah handed Noelle her coffee and spun his to see what Emma or whoever made the brew had written on the cup. Believe in yourself. He loved Bitty and Beau's. Anytime he needed a lift in his day, they never failed to deliver.

"Thanks." Coffee in hand, Noelle lowered herself next to Raven. "There was a moment I didn't think we'd make it, but as you can see, we're good."

"Phew. I'd hate to break in a new office manager." Raven grinned.

Jonah eased onto the recliner and took a sip. He groaned at the rich chocolate-infused brew.

"Yo, Doc, would you like a moment alone with your coffee?"

He lowered the cup and glared at Raven. "Haha. Very funny." The woman had a wicked sense of humor, that comment only a peek into what lay beneath the surface. "Are the others ready for the conference call?"

"It's all set. I have everything scheduled for an hour from now. Will that give you enough of a break before diving in again?" Raven clutched a throw pillow against her abdomen.

"This and a little food will do the job." Noelle lifted her cup before taking a sip.

"Is there anything you need me to do? Oh, wait." Raven rummaged through her purse, which looked more like a beach bag, and pulled out a large manila envelope. "Alana got the video footage from the restaurant. I pulled stills and printed them for you."

"Perfect." Noelle took the packet. "We'll look at these in a bit."

Raven tucked the pillow behind her and stood. "I've got things to do, unless you need something else."

"I think we're good. Thanks again for taking care of Samson and getting my stuff." Jonah walked her to the door.

"Sorry about holding you at gunpoint." Noelle cringed.

Raven waved a hand like shooing a fly. "I don't blame you after all the chaos. I'll announce myself next time. Let me know if I can help with anything." With that, she left.

Noelle closed the door and reset the alarm.

"You scored when you found Raven. If I could, I'd steal her from the Elite Guardians." He nudged Noelle. "But I think she'd protest."

She gave him a playful glare. "Don't you dare. That woman keeps the office running smoothly. I couldn't do it without her."

"What do you say about fixing lunch, or should I say a midafternoon snack, before our call?"

"Sounds great."

For the next hour, they avoided conversation about the cases. The downtime gave them the break they needed.

With the kitchen clean, Jonah joined Noelle on the loveseat in her office.

He scanned the images on the wall. Since she'd announced that the set of faceless pictures were of her, his stomach churned whenever he looked at them. The woman had survived a brutal few days. Her ability to still stand with confidence about life amazed him. Her words about God wanting people to reach out—wanting a friendship—had struck something deep inside. Maybe he should try harder to talk with God again. Because she definitely hadn't made it through those dark moments alone.

The laptop balanced on Noelle's thighs came to life.

"Ready for this?" she asked.

"More than. I want this over. I think I'll pray for resolution in both sets of cases."

Without lifting her gaze to him, she smiled at his comment. "That would be nice."

He knew she wasn't only referring to closing the cases but to his willingness to pray.

Squares of their friends' faces filled the screen.

"Hey, everyone." Noelle waved.

"How are you? I'm glad you're okay. What were you thinking? Are you feeling okay?" Questions and comments came at them rapid-fire.

Jonah held up a hand. "We're fine. Minor cuts and bruises."

"I guess we can trust Doc. He is the professional," Matt grumbled. "But I talked with Officer Adams…" He let the statement hang.

Might as well stop the conversation before it crumpled around them. Jonah inhaled. "You all know the basics. But what I can tell you is that Noelle's quick thinking and skills saved our lives."

She shook her head, but he stopped her.

"Seriously. It was a close call, but her instincts made the difference between us sitting here now and us taking up tables in the morgue."

"Can we move this meeting along?" Pink filled Noelle's cheeks.

He clutched her hand and squeezed.

She gave him a shy smile.

"Juliette, what happened at the congressman's office?" Apparently, they had convinced Decia that he and Noelle were in one piece, and she was ready to move on.

Juliette brought her tablet in front of her. "I did a little digging before chatting with Congressman Sanford. Did you know he has a thing for younger females?"

"Oh, ick." Matt grimaced. "How young?"

"Not like that." Juliette shook her head "Think the male version of a cougar. His tastes are women in their early twenties."

"And he's what? Sixty?" Decia asked.

"Not quite, but getting close," Juliette said. "I'm not dissing all couples with a large age difference, but when an older man targets women half or less than half his age…nothing good can come from it."

"What else?" Noelle asked.

"It's fairly well known within his circle that he cheated on his wife before her death."

Juliette scrunched her nose. "What a peach. How did she die?"

Matt raised a finger. "I can answer that. Car accident. Hit-and-run. The officers never discovered who killed her."

"So it could have been on purpose." Alana's words stopped the conversation.

"I'm not sure SPD ever considered that angle. The report states the person responsible ran a red light and smashed into the driver's side, killing her instantly, then drove off."

Wet crimson covered Jonah's hands. How many lives had he saved, and the one that meant the most had slipped through his fingers. Bile crept up his throat. He shoved his failure to the back of his mind and fought to keep his late lunch in place. He blinked away the blood. "Then it's possible Mrs. Sanford's death wasn't an accident."

"After everything we've heard, I think it's a real possibility. Or at least one we shouldn't ignore." Decia twirled her pen. "We have a cheating husband and a wife who died under unknown circumstances. What about the son and others in the congressman's office?"

"The son is protective of his father and is against him ‘talking with the cops.'" Juliette used air quotes. "I guess he considers me law enforcement. Anyway, he's secretive. I'm not sure if it's his personality, the attorney in him, or he's actually hiding something."

"What about the aide and the administrative assistant?" Decia asked.

"The admin is knowledgeable of everything that goes on in that office. I'd be surprised if anyone makes a move without her knowing." Juliette sighed. "But beyond that, nothing had me questioning her involvement in illegal behaviors."

"She might be a source of information once we have specifics to ask," Matt said.

"And the aide. What was his name?" Noelle snapped her fingers. "Royce Dwight."

"Now, he's an interesting one." Juliette scrunched her nose as if smelling a rotten egg. "From the outside, he looks squeaky clean."

The air conditioner kicked on, and the cold air tickled the back of Jonah's neck. "There's dirt on him?"

"Not really. He's too clean, if you catch my drift." Juliette shrugged. "Sanford was a friend of his father's during high school. The congressman offered him an internship because of it, and Royce has become an invaluable part of Sanford's political team. If I had to guess, I'd say the aide is willing to do anything for the congressman."

Matt rubbed the back of his neck. "So, we have a whole lot of nothing. We can't point at anyone, and yet we can't rule them out either."

"Do you think the congressman is our killer?" Alana asked.

Decia squinted at the screen. "I get the feeling you have a reason you asked."

Alana's brow furrowed. "Maybe."

"You visited the restaurant where the congressman was seen with the current victims. What did the waitstaff at Twilight Serenade say?" Noelle continued to hold Jonah's hand.

"They recognized several of the victims." Alana eased back in her chair and swung her seat side to side. "They remembered Sanford wining and dining the women, but each employee insisted that the congressman treated the ladies well."

"That does not prevent him from being a killer," Decia stated.

"True. But why? His platform is tough on crime. Is he hiding behind his words?" Jonah ran the fingers of his free hand through his hair. "What else, Alana?"

"The bartender, Austin James, who I discovered, when I asked about security footage, is also the owner, gave me consent. He emailed me the videos for the weeks in question. I think Raven gave everyone copies of the stills." Alana raised a brow.

"I got ours." Matt answered Alana's unspoken question for himself and Decia.

"Us too." Jonah lifted the envelope. "However, we haven't looked at the photos yet."

"No worries. Y'all had a lot going on," Juliette said.

"You can say that again," he mumbled.

Noelle tilted her head. A smile graced her beautiful face. She grabbed the packet and slid out the contents.

Jonah leaned in and got his first look at the photos.

"I circled the victims and wrote the dates and times on the pictures." Alana gave everyone time to examine the images.

Decia spoke first. "On photo number four, is that the congressman's son?"

"Yes. In fact, his son Lincoln and aide Royce made multiple appearances in the videos," Alana confirmed.

"Who's the guy in the background? I can't see his face." Noelle lifted one of the images to the camera and pointed to the person in question.

Alana squinted at the screen, then flipped through her copy of the pictures. "That's the owner/bartender."

The crease in Noelle's forehead deepened as she studied the photo.

Jonah shifted to get a better angle of her face. "Is there a reason you're interested in him?"

"No, just curious. I'm trying to place all the players."

"So, back to the original question. Could Congressman Clifton Sanford be our killer?" Alana asked.

"I haven't met the man, but I watched one of his news interviews on TV. He favors his right side." Jonah hated speculation when it came to medical conditions, but he decided now might be the time to throw out his thoughts for the others to consider. "If I had to guess, the man had a stroke at some point in the past."

"Meaning?" Matt leaned forward, his face close to the screen.

"I don't think he's physically capable of overpowering these women." There. He'd said it. Jonah examined one of the pictures of Sanford. "Not unless he had help."

"I'm not a fan of who he seeks out for his dates. Noelle." Decia waited for Noelle to look at her. "Is it possible that Clifton Sanford is your cold-case serial killer?"

Noelle's breath hitched.

Jonah placed his hand on her knee, hoping the connection calmed her.

She swallowed hard. "I don't think so."

"Are you sure?" This time it was Matt who asked.

"No. I'm not positive. But when I met him face-to-face, I had no reaction to him." She scowled. "I think my subconscious would know."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I'll do a deeper dive into him." Decia jotted down a note. "Okay, Jonah, Noelle, what did you find out on your tattoo shop hunt?"

Jonah took the question, giving Noelle time to reset her mind. "After visiting several different shops, the owner of Body Murals gave us a possible name."

"Shoot me the name," Matt said.

"Richard Nelson. The owner told us that the guy's artist name was Vincent." Noelle offered the ID of the possible suspect.

"Was?" Decia asked.

Jonah nodded. "Apparently, Richard disappeared eight years ago, leaving behind all his equipment."

"I'll take a look into his history and see if I come up with anything." Matt wrote on a pad of paper.

Decia rubbed her eyes. "Anything else?" No one spoke. "That's what I was afraid of."

"Look, I know we have a twenty-four-seven plan for Doc, but I think we need to up that, especially after the attempt with the train." Alana crossed her arms as if daring them to go against her.

"I agree," Juliette added.

"It's not a bad idea. I, for one, would feel better knowing Doc is covered by two of you. Unfortunately, we can't pull SPD manpower to help, but sign Matt and me up for a shift on our off time." Decia's mom tone made Jonah smile.

"I appreciate it." Jonah hated that he'd put Noelle in the crosshairs of another killer, so if Decia's offer meant an extra set of eyes on Noelle as well, he was all in.