Page 42 of Hunting Justice

But that kiss had struck something deep inside him. The completeness that had overwhelmed him…he hadn’t experienced since Cara. He closed his eyes. Only the second kiss in her life. He sighed. She kissed like a dream—his dream. His heart had taken over and left his mind spinning.

He ventured a glance at her. The vulnerability in her expression would have taken him to his knees if he hadn’t been sitting. He vowed right then that no matter what happened between them, he’d convince her that even with her scars, she was worthy of love.

Without pondering the consequences of his words, Jonah dumped the contents of the package onto the table. A black flash drive bounced on the surface before coming to a rest in front of them. The piece of paper that followed floated down and rested next to it.

They both stared at the items like they’d jump up and bite.

Noelle’s gaze flicked to him. “Who’s it from?”

“Not a clue. No return address.” Jonah lifted the note and unfolded it. “It’s from Ken.”

“What’d he say?” Noelle leaned closer and peered over his shoulder.

“That he’s sorry, and that everything I need to set the autopsy records straight is on the flash drive.” Jonah picked up the small device and rolled it in his hand. “I’m not sure I want to know what’s on it.”

“I’d say with all the attempts on your life, you don’t have a choice.” Noelle covered his hand, stilling his movement. “I’ll go get my laptop while you get yours. The not knowing will drive you crazy.”

“You’re right.” He retrieved his laptop from his messenger bag and booted it up. By the time he’d inserted the flash drive, Noelle had returned from her office with her computer. “Have a seat and let’s see what Ken sent me.”

She scooted her chair next to him for a full view of the screen.

“Here goes nothing.” He clicked on the folder named Original Reports. Eighteen individual file names popped onto the screen.

Noelle sucked in an audible breath. “He falsified that many reports?”

“It looks like it.” Jonah opened the document labeled Tina Snyder and examined the first close-up photo Ken had included and the police report. “Look at the marks on her neck.”

“Strangulation?”

“That would be my guess.” He squinted at the screen. “Check it out.” He pointed at the handwritten note at the bottom of the page. “We don’t need the fake autopsy files. At least, not initially. Ken’s told me what he labeled it as. Tina’s presumed strangulation was marked as a hit-and-run.”

“Open another one.”

Jonah clicked on the next file and studied it. “This one appears to be a drug overdose. See the marks on her arm and the dried froth around her mouth? And Ken wrote it as an accidental drowning.”

“So basically, something close but where the police wouldn’t continue to investigate.”

“Exactly. Hold on.” He scrolled down the list of names until he landed on the last file. “This looks interesting.”

“All it says is extra photos.” Noelle tapped the screen.

“But the question is, why make a separate file?” He clicked on the name. When the file opened, his stomach threatened to revolt.

Noelle squeaked. “Is that what I think it is?”

Image after image popped up. Each young woman’s body had cuts similar to the pictures on Noelle’s wall—and the scars on her arms.

“How?” Her voice quivered. “These date back three years. Long after my serial killer stopped his attacks.”

“The question is, why did he stop? Was he in jail? Did he die and someone else picked up his cause?”

Noelle pushed from her chair, knocking it to the ground. “He can’t be back. He just can’t.”

He snagged her hand. His gut twisted in knots. “Don’t go there. Not yet. We have no idea what’s going on.”

“Jonah, these are the same!” She ran her fingers through her hair. Her breaths came in pants.

“Please, have a seat. Try to calm down before you hyperventilate.” He tugged her toward him.

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