Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

W ith the help of the triplets, and under Noah’s supervision, Annabelle organized her home the way she liked it—or as close as possible. It would be a couple of days before her new computer and phone arrived, and there were gaps around the loft where her broken belongings had been broken and had yet to be replaced. But overall, it felt more like home than when Noah first took her around it.

As a thank-you for the team, she’d decided to make spaghetti for dinner. It felt good to be back in her kitchen, doing something she enjoyed. Something that didn’t involve thinking about a murder or the men out to get her.

“I love this swing,” Evan declared as he kicked higher. “What we need now is a slide. We could get one of those spiral tube slides and insert it between floors. That would be cool. Oh! Or a fireman’s pole.”

“How old are you?” Noah asked from the living room sofa, where he was keeping an eye on the road outside as well as on Annabelle. “Twelve?”

“Twenty-four,” Evan replied in all seriousness.

“Weird,” Logan said. “So am I.”

Noah shook his head as Annabelle grinned at the brothers. She’d asked Logan to repot a couple of plants she’d managed to save while Harris was rehanging some pictures that had come off the wall and been sent out for reframing. Evan was… playing.

“You know what else we could do?” Evan said. “We could set up a basketball area on the roof.”

“We’re Scottish.” Harris stood back to examine his handiwork before stepping forward again to straighten the picture. “We don’t play basketball. We play football.” He cast Annabelle a pitying glance. “That would be soccer to you.”

“Aye, but a football pitch would take up the whole roof,” Evan said. “And we could learn how to play basketball.” His head poked out from behind the kitchen wall as he swung forward again. “Why haven’t you turned the roof into a garden? It’s perfect for it, and you love plants.”

Annabelle shrugged as she stirred the spaghetti sauce. “I’ve never been up there.”

It took her a moment to realize that all four men were silently staring at her.

“Never?” Logan sounded incredulous.

“Nope. It’s outside. I don’t do outside. The closest I come is opening the door to collect the mail.”

“But the roof is part of the building, so you should feel safe there.” Logan was obviously confused.

“Maybe, but like I said, I’ve never been up there to find out.”

“It’s totally flat,” Evan called. “There’s a little wall around the edge, and the view’s fantastic. You could have a vegetable garden, and a patio, and a basketball court. You should go up and take a look.”

“Maybe.”

Annabelle’s stomach tensed at the thought, even though she knew that there was little chance of being snatched from her own roof. Still, there were fire escape stairs that led up there, so it wasn’t completely safe. People could still get to her. And if they did, she might end up…

No.

She couldn’t think about that. There was enough to deal with in the present without raking up the past.

“Do you know what else would be cool?” Evan called out to them. “You know that alleyway between this building and the one next door? The warehouse wall in there would make a perfect climbing wall.”

“Let me get this straight,” Noah said. “So far, you want a slide running through the building, a basketball court on the roof, and a climbing wall outside. It’s like working with my kids.”

Annabelle grinned at him. “How old are your kids?”

“Jacob turns fourteen soon, and Sammy’s nine. And they’re both more mature than the triplets.”

“Hey!” Logan complained. “I’m not the one who wants to turn this building into a jungle gym.”

“You know,” Evan said, “there’s that big pit in the loading area behind the shop. One side of it slopes down from the rolling door. If we tiled it and fitted it out, it’d make a perfect swimming pool.”

The men groaned while Annabelle smiled. “I used to love to swim.”

“Then you should think about it,” Evan said seriously. “What was that pit used for anyway?”

“I’m not sure. I think it had something to do with horses and carts. To make it easier to lead them down into that area, so that loading the carts would be faster. But I wouldn’t testify to that in court.” She swallowed hard, the words a stark reminder about what was to come.

It seemed the guys hadn’t missed what she’d said either, as they all turned somber.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Logan said. “If you can’t leave the building, how will you testify?”

“Video link.”

“Makes sense.”

“What did you see anyway?” Evan asked as he swung past.

Annabelle stilled while stirring the rich and meaty tomato sauce as memories of that night rushed back to her. Apart from when she was kidnapped, she’d never been so scared as when she witnessed that man’s death.

“You don’t have to answer that.” Noah glared at Evan, who was oblivious.

She tucked her hair behind her ears. “It’s okay. I need to get used to talking about it.”

Annabelle turned off the burner under the pasta pot and reached for the strainer.

“Let me.” Noah had appeared at her side, and she hadn’t even noticed he’d moved from the sofa.

“Thanks.” Leaving him to drain the pasta, she took a seat at the island. “I have a weird sleeping schedule sometimes, like when I’m on a deadline or there’s a lot of stuff fighting for space in my head. It means I’m often up at strange hours, but since I’m the only person in the building and there’s no one to disturb, I don’t really give it too much thought.”

Annabelle watched Noah stir the thick ragù sauce before turning off the burner under that pan too. He faced her, leaning back against the counter, his arms folded over another faded T-shirt. Evan, who’d stopped swinging and come into the kitchen, pulled out a stool and sat beside her. Harris and Logan also gave her their full attention.

She should have felt self-conscious, but instead, she felt protected. It was a good feeling, one she held close and cherished.

“So,” she continued, “one night, I was pacing the loft, trying to figure out a plot point in my latest graphic novel, when I heard shouting outside. My lights were off because there was plenty of light coming in from the streetlamps, and I like it that way. Also, it makes my building appear empty. Not that anyone would expect someone to be living here.” She shrugged. “My mailman tells me there aren’t many people living in these few blocks. It’s mostly businesses with set hours. And, to be honest, with the state of the shop downstairs, most people would think the warehouse is abandoned anyway.”

“Which means someone up to no good might think this was a quiet, out-of-the-way place to do what they liked,” Harris said. “Conveniently witness-free.”

“Exactly.” Annabelle nodded. “I noticed the noise first. They were shouting, and it was scary. I mean, it wasn’t like rowdy drunk people or something; it was fighting. So I went to the window to see what was going on, but I kinda stood to one side because I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

“Smart move,” Noah murmured.

“There were five men in the alley between the buildings across the street,” Annabelle continued.

“The one where Violet hid behind the dumpster?” Noah asked.

“No, on that street.” She pointed to the long side of the building. “One of the men was backed up against the wall and clearly terrified. Another man stood in front of him, quite close. The other three men were fanned out behind him. They kept looking around, like they were ensuring they were alone.”

Annabelle took a deep breath and clasped her hands in front of her on the counter. They were shaking, and she hoped no one noticed. To her surprise, Noah moved away from the counter, leaned over the island, and covered her hands with his.

“It’s a normal reaction,” he said softly. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Thanks,” she whispered before continuing. “The guy intimidating the man against the wall wore a black muscle shirt. His head was shaven, and tattoos ran up the side of his neck and down his arms. He was too far away for me to make them out, but he was still very distinctive.

“As I watched, he shouted some more, then spat at the man against the wall. By this time, the cornered man was begging, holding up his hands as if surrendering.” She licked her dry lips, and Harris filled a glass with water and placed it in front of her.

“Thanks,” she said, but she didn’t want to move her hands from Noah’s to pick it up. “It all happened so fast after that. The guy in the muscle shirt?—”

“Eddie Hanson,” Noah said.

“Yes, Eddie. He reached around to the small of his back and pulled out a gun. The v-victim was pleading, but it made no difference. Eddie held his arm out straight and shot him in the chest.”

Annabelle kept her gaze fixed on Noah, as though he were a lifeline. He squeezed her hands, offering reassurance and strength.

She took a deep breath before continuing. “The victim slid down the wall and toppled to his side. Eddie stepped forward and shot him in the head. I freaked out and jerked backward, tripping over my own feet and landing on the floor. I scrambled to my work area, grabbed my camera, and ran back to the window. Eddie was crouched in front of the victim, his gun in one hand as he took something from the man’s pocket with the other. His three friends now had their guns out too and were very alert, watching every shadow around them.

“I made sure to stay out of sight while taking as many photos as I could, but I was shaking so badly that they were all out of focus when I looked at them later. They were taken with the wrong settings too because I forgot to adjust for the low-light conditions.”

“That’s why your testimony is important to the DA,” Noah said with understanding. “The photos aren’t enough on their own.”

“No, they aren’t. Each of the men kicked the victim before they sauntered out of the alley as though nothing had happened. They were laughing when they got into their car. I-I couldn’t take any more photos after that.” She swallowed down a wave of shame. “I was too busy vomiting. When I was done, I called the police, but I, uh, didn’t let them in until my therapist got here.” She paused, feeling all kinds of pathetic. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“You made the right decisions,” Noah said. “Calling the doc was perfect. You needed someone in your corner while you dealt with the cops. As for throwing up, don’t sweat it. We’ve all been there. Right?” He glanced at the triplets.

To her surprise, it wasn’t the guys who replied but Violet, who now stood at the entrance to the loft. Annabelle had been so focused on her story that she hadn’t heard her come in.

“I vomited the first time I attended a murder scene,” Violet said. “Totally screwed up the evidence. It’s a natural reaction.”

Evan looked at his brothers. “I didn’t know she had those.”

As Violet gave him a death glare, Annabelle smiled tremulously at Noah. “Have you ever thrown up at a crime scene?”

“More than once.” And he didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by it either.

For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the room, whispering to each other and sharing secrets. She was aware of his hand covering hers, the heat of his skin warming her. Memories of him holding her were foremost in her mind, and she feared that her hero-worshiping might be getting out of hand.

“Must be his age,” Harris said, shattering the moment. “I hear the older you get, the more sensitive your stomach becomes.”

“I swear,” Noah said, stepping away from the island and taking his warmth with him. “It’s like dealing with my kids. So, you saw the leader of the Demon Brothers Houston Chapter kill a man while three of his gang backed him up. No wonder the ADA salivates every time she sees you. You’re about to hand her one of the biggest cases of her career on a platter.”

“If I survive long enough to do it,” Annabelle said.

“That’s the spirit.” Evan patted her on the shoulder.

“I hate to break up this party,” Violet said. “But the boss wants you downstairs, Noah.”

“Don’t worry,” Harris said. “We’ll look after her. You know, Annabelle, it occurs to me that without a computer, you don’t have access to your 3D modeling software—which means no ability to pose figures for your drawings. I just wanted you to know that I’m willing to step in until you get your new computer. You may not know this, but I used to be a professional model?—”

His brothers groaned loudly, making Annabelle laugh. She glanced over at Noah and found he was checking on her too. He smiled, cocked an eyebrow, then shrugged. She could almost hear his apology for leaving her alone with the triplets.

Annabelle beamed at him and shooed him out of the room. She’d be fine until he returned.