Page 16 of Blind Justice

Grinning, Alex rattled it off, clearly amused as Noah pulled out his phone and dialed.

Ruth answered on the second ring, her voice soft and slightly husky, carrying a warmth that sent an unexpected jolt through Noah.

“Hi, Ruth, it’s Noah Kandor,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Oh, hi, Noah,” she replied, her tone filled with caution. “Did something happen to my mom? Or Alex?”

“Oh gosh, no. I didn’t mean to rattle you,” he explained, a chuckle escaping as he recounted Charlotte’s insistence and Alex’s exasperation. “So, I figured I’d save everyone some trouble and just call you myself.”

Ruth laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Well, thanks for checking in. I had planned to call her but dozed off when I got in. I’ll do that after I get off with you. I’m fine—safe and sound at home.”

Noah hesitated for a moment before saying, “I just wanted to say I really enjoyed spending Christmas with you and your family. You all made me feel welcome.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Ruth replied, her voice softer. “I’m glad you came, Noah. It was nice having you there.”

They lingered in the conversation for a moment, exchanging small talk about the weather, her drive back to Pierre, and how the snow was piling up outside. Noah found himself smiling more than he had in days, drawn in by her easy laughter and the quiet warmth of her voice.

“Anyway,” he said eventually, “I should let you go. But if you need anything—or if your mom keeps insisting—I’m just a call away.”

“Thanks, Noah,” she said, her tone genuine. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They ended the call, and Noah set his phone down, still smiling.

Alex raised an eyebrow, his grin teasing. “Good talk?”

Noah shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Yeah. She’s fine. She’s going to call Charlotte.” But as he turned back to his work, his mind lingered on Ruth’s voice and the way it made him feel.

Noah leaned back in his chair, his fingers resting on the edges of the file that had been haunting him for weeks.RobertHilton.The name was scrawled in bold letters across the tab, a stark reminder of the tangled web of deceit, destruction, and death tied to the case. His gut churned as he thought about the dumpsite where the remains were discovered, the gruesome images etched in his mind.

As if on cue, his phone vibrated against the desk. He snatched it up, answering briskly, “Kandor.”

The voice on the other end was clinical and serious. Noah’s posture stiffened, his face draining of color as he listened. “Male, B-negative,” the lab tech confirmed.

Noah pressed his lips into a thin line. “When will you have the final confirmation?”

There was a pause, the sound of machines audible through the receiver. “At least a week,” the tech replied. “We’ve got twenty-three fragments total. Each one is being tested, but so far, the profile matches.”

Noah puffed out a sharp breath, his hand tightening on the phone. “Got it,” he said, his tone clipped. “Thanks. Happy New Year.”

The tech offered a somber acknowledgment before the call ended.

Noah dropped the phone onto his desk and scrubbed a hand over his face. When he looked up, Alex was watching him, his expression shadowed with concern. “It looks like the body is Hilton’s,” Noah said grimly. “The lab tested a few of the fragments. They’re all consistent—male, B-negative. But they’re running tests on every one of the twenty-three pieces to be sure.”

Alex’s jaw tightened as he turned to stare out the window, his silhouette sharp against the gray sky. “Twenty-three pieces,” he muttered. “Damn it, Noah.”

“I know,” Noah replied, his voice low but firm. “We have to nail the SOB for this.”

The name loomed in the room like a dark cloud. Maxim Fairchild. The owner of Verdant Horizons had been under investigation this time for months, his empire hopefully unraveling under environmental violations, corruption, and now murder.

Fairchild had been careful, insulating himself with layers of plausible deniability. But this? This was personal. Hilton was their informant, their key to exposing the depths of Fairchild’s operations. And now Hilton was gone, reduced to a collection of dismembered remains dumped like trash.

“We’re not getting him today,” Alex said finally, his tone heavy with resignation.

Noah nodded, his fists clenched on the desk. “But wewillget him.”

Alex turned back to face him, a grim look in his eyes. “For Hilton,” he said simply.

“For Hilton,” Noah echoed.

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