Page 9 of Blind Justice

Melanie didn’t smile. “You need to deal with this, Ruth.”

“I know,” Ruth murmured, her voice barely audible. “I just… need to figure out how.”

As she closed the door behind Melanie, Ruth leaned against it, her resolve hardening. Matt’s behavior crossed the line, and she couldn’t ignore it anymore. Today was December twenty-third. The offices were closed until January second. She’d have a plan by then—she hoped.

Four

Noah grabbed the shopping bag from his kitchen counter, careful not to jostle the contents. Inside was a carefully wrapped hostess gift for Charlotte Everhart: a luxurious wicker basket filled with gourmet hot cocoa mixes, handmade marshmallows, a pair of ceramic mugs painted with wintry scenes, and a small poinsettia plant in a festive pot. He had debated over the choice for too long, but in the end, it felt like the right blend of thoughtful and seasonal. He hoped Charlotte would agree.

He shrugged on his dark wool coat and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind him. The air in Eagle Hill was frigid, the snowbanks along the driveway gleaming in the pale light of early afternoon. As he walked to his car, the thought crossed his mind that he must be insane to have braved the mall on Christmas Eve. The place was a madhouse, a tangle of last-minute shoppers darting between stores and hauling overloaded bags.

After sliding into his truck, Noah started the engine and began the two-hour drive to Waverly Junction. The two towns couldn’t have been more different. Eagle Hill was small and quiet, with wide streets and scattered farms. Waverly Junction, on the other hand, was vibrant, especially during the holidays. As he neared the Everhart home, the snow-dusted Victorian houses lining the streets grew increasingly festive.

Charlotte’s house was the pinnacle of holiday cheer. The large Victorian stood tall and proud, painted a warm cream color with dark green trim. Its wraparound porch was draped in evergreen garlands twinkling with white lights. A towering Christmas tree sparkled in the bay window, and a cheerful wreath hung on the red front door. The driveway was already packed with cars, and the muffled sound of laughter and holiday music spilled out from inside.

Noah stepped out of his GMC, straightening his coat and smoothing the front of his tailored charcoal suit. His crisp white shirt was paired with a deep red tie, and a subtle silver tie bar added just the right touch of polish. His black leather gloves creaked as he adjusted the shopping bag in one hand and strode up the icy steps, speckled with rock salt, to the front door.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand poised to press the doorbell. Taking a steadying breath, he pressed the button, the bell’s cheerful chime echoing inside the house.

The door opened almost immediately, and Noah felt his breath catch. Standing before him was Ruth Everhart, the youngest of Charlotte’s five daughters.

Ruth was petite, with a full, curvy figure that her deep green dress seemed made to flatter. The fabric skimmed her hips and fell just below her knees, with a neckline that revealed a hint of cleavage without being too daring. The emerald shade brought out the fiery tones in her thick, wavy red hair, which framed her heart-shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed, either from the cold or the warmth inside, and her bright hazel eyes sparkled as she smiled up at him.

“Noah,” she said warmly. “You made it. Come on in!”

What a difference from the first time they met. Ruth had been frazzled and afraid as she did her best to keep Noah and other law enforcement officers fortified as they worked around the clock to find her sister Isobel, who’d been kidnapped by a madman.

Noah tried to speak but found himself momentarily struck dumb. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “Thanks, Ruth.” He stepped inside and handed her the shopping bag. “I brought this for your mom.”

She took the bag from him, her fingers brushing his gloved hand. “She’ll love it. Let me take your coat.”

As she helped him out of his coat, Noah couldn’t help but notice the faint scent of something floral—her perfume, maybe. He glanced around the foyer, taking in the festive decorations: more garlands, a cluster of poinsettias, and a small side table piled high with gifts. The house was alive with holiday energy.

Ruth hung his coat on a hook and turned back to him, her smile still in place. “Everyone’s in the living room. Mom and Alex are putting the finishing touches on dinner, but the rest of us are just catching up.”

He nodded, steeling himself for the bustling family scene he knew awaited him. “Lead the way.”

As Ruth walked ahead, her dress swaying with each step, Noah felt a flicker of arousal he hadn’t expected. This Christmas was shaping up to be more complicated—and more interesting—than he’d imagined.

* * *

Ruth couldn’t rememberif she had really looked at Noah Kandor. She’d met him months ago, during one of the most harrowing times of her life, when her sister Isobel was kidnapped. Noah had joined Alex, her sister’s fiancé Brad Killian, and a host of others in the desperate search to bring Isobel home. At the time, Ruth had been too consumed with worry to notice much about anyone beyond their ability to help.

Now, though, standing beside him in her mother’s warm, bustling living room, she couldn’t help but take in the details she had missed. Noah was about forty, his dark hair neatly cut but with just enough of a wave to soften his strong jawline. His suit seemed tailor-made, the cut accentuating his broad shoulders and the slim taper to his waist. When he moved, the suit hinted at the taut strength beneath—an athletic build honed by years of discipline, not vanity.

His cologne reached her in faint, teasing waves—woodsy, with a hint of spice. It wasn’t overpowering, just enough to make her aware of him in a way that left her unsettled. She wasn’t sure if it was the warmth of the house or her proximity to him, but her cheeks felt unusually warm.

“This way,” she said, her voice steady as she led him into the living room.

The Everhart living room was as lively as ever during the holidays. Another massive Christmas tree glittered with colored lights and ornaments collected over decades. The fireplace crackled merrily, and stockings—one for each family member—were hung in a neat row. The men in the room were mostly gathered near the couch, chatting amicably while keeping half an eye on the Christmas Day basketball game playing on the mounted TV.

Ruth turned to Noah with a polite smile. “What are you drinking? We’ve got wine, beer, eggnog, or something stronger if you’d like.”

Noah smiled back, his green eyes meeting hers with a warmth that made her breath catch. “A beer would be great. Thanks.”

“Bottle or glass?

“Bottle is fine.”

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