Page 78 of The Murder Between Us
He kissed Katie’s hair, the top of her head, and then kissed Noah on his forehead, his cheek. Brushed his lips over Noah’s, wanting to deepen the moment but holding back. There was a pad of paper and a cheap pen at Katie’s bedside. He wrote them both a note, explaining he’d been called to an emergency in Boston but would be back in a few days. He drew a big heart, then a terrible drawing of the two of them in bed together.XO, Cole. He left the notepad on the bed, where he’d laid his head and where Noah couldn’t miss it.
Walking out of the room was excruciating. Every step felt like he was being stabbed. He had to walk backward, keep them in his sights.I’m coming back. I’ll see you in a few days. I promise.
He had to move fast when he hit the hallway. If he didn’t, he’d call his boss, resign immediately. Or just break down and sob, fall to his knees in the corridor and let it all out—all the fear, the nerves, the terror, the anxiety that had shredded him.I don’t want to leave.
“Dr. Kennedy!”
A woman’s voice. He froze.
“Dr. Kennedy.” Footsteps. She stopped behind him.
He turned and came face to face with Lilly Downing. “Ma’am.” He tried to smile.
So did she. It looked more like a rictus of pain. Dark circles marred her porcelain skin, furrows beneath her red-rimmed eyes. She was beautiful nonetheless, delicate and strong at the same time. She stood her ground and lifted her chin, looking him in the eye as she swallowed. They sized each other up, holding each other’s stare for a long, long moment.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“I’ve been called to an emergency. I have to get to the airport.” He almost snorted. That was how Noah left him the first time. Was there something poetic about this? No, it just sucked. It just purely sucked.
Lilly nodded. She went quiet, studying him. There were two cups of coffee in her hand. “Thank you,” she finally breathed, “for saving their lives.” She held out one of the coffee cups. “I was bringing this back for you. I don’t know how you take your coffee, though.” She reached into her hoodie’s pocket when he took the cup she held out. “Do you take cream?” She offered him a fistful of creamers.
He laughed softly, remembering coffee-cream walls and Noah’s smile, how Noah had taken him back to Starbucks to get his coffee just right, even when they wanted to be anywhere but near each other. Or they’d wanted each other too much, and the closeness had physically hurt. His life was being redefined by Noah in a thousand ways, memories of him and Katie attaching themselves to everything, from the banal to the beautiful. “I do. More than is probably wise.” He took every creamer she offered. “Thank you.”
“Are you coming back?”
“Yes. Definitely. As soon as I can.” How did he tell Noah’s ex-wife he was going to be dating Noah? That they were going to long-distance it, figure it all out? That he and Noah were going to be joining their lives, and that he’d hopefully become a part of Katie’s life, too? It wasn’t just Noah he was falling for. Falling for Noah meant a package deal, meant walking into a life that was already formed. Formed and waiting for a missing puzzle piece to complete the picture. Could he be that missing piece?
She nodded. Chewed her lip. Stepped back. “They’ll be waiting for you when you do.”
22
Boston was a headache.His boss even more so.
They agreed to a modified travel schedule, Cole flying anywhere work needed him Monday through Friday, with Cole picking up the cost of travel from wherever he was to Des Moines for the weekends. He’d be living out of a suitcase, and he’d barely ever see his condo in D.C., but he could be with Noah and Katie every weekend… as long everything went according to plan.
He took three weeks’ vacation and spent every day with them, starting as soon as they were released from the hospital. Noah had booked a furnished apartment from the hospital, and Cole helped move them into the two-bedroom corporate suite in downtown Des Moines, shuttling bags of clothes from Noah’s house so the two of them didn’t have to go back there. Black fingerprint powder still covered the downstairs. Bloodstains coated the floor, ran down the walls where Noah had been stabbed. Splinters rose off roughened wood on the overhead beam where Katie’s noose had been tied.
For three weeks, he and Noah spent every day together. Driving Katie to summer school and cheer practice. Falling into bed and making love. Talking, endlessly talking, sharing memories and thoughts and dreams and fears and heartaches and hopes. He went with Noah when his rehab appointments started and helped him with the exercises to regain the strength in his right arm.
He held Noah through the midnight hours when Noah would wake in a cold sweat, screaming. Screaming Katie’s name, screaming Cole’s name. Screaming in terror. Screaming in heartbreak. They’d make love after, often, Noah chasing away the fear with Cole’s love until he was smiling again, gazing at Cole like Cole was the rising sun banishing his nightmares.
He took them both to their counseling appointments—at first every afternoon, then tapering to three times, then two times a week. He waited in the lobby for them, holding out his arms for the hugs they both gave him when they came out. The drives home were quiet, him holding Noah’s hand in a death grip as tears rained down Noah’s face.
Cole began cooking for them when he found out Noah’s kitchen skills extended to Hamburger Helper, pancakes from a mix, grilled ham and cheese, and microwaved dinners. Cole made eggplant parmesan from scratch in the cramped kitchen, chicken enchiladas, homemade pizza. Fried chicken and grilled salmon.
Katie fired her father from cooking and told Cole he couldn’t leave.
He helped Katie with her homework, the three of them in the kitchen together after dinner. He’d sit at the table and work through each math problem with her, explaining it one way and then another when she groaned and said she still didn’t get it. Noah would watch as he washed the dishes, joining them and pressing kisses to their heads when he was finished. His hands would be warm and smell like soap when he threaded their fingers together. Katie always seemed to magically get better at her homework after Noah joined them. They let it slide, and the evenings became almost a ritual: Noah held his hand after finishing the dishes as Katie hummed pop songs to herself and finished her problems.
One night they watched a movie, Noah on one side of him and Katie on the other. Halfway through, both of them fell asleep, leaning on him until he wrapped an arm around each. He didn’t move for eleven hours, letting the movie turn to infomercials as he listened to them breathe. Neither had a nightmare that night. He kissed their hair every hour and let his tears fall silently.Never end. Never let this moment end.
Jacob called with updates on the investigation, even though Noah was on medical leave. Frank had lost his job in St. Louis for botching an investigation so badly the offender, a suspected killer, was able to beat the charges. He killed three more people before he was arrested and convicted. Bart Olson had fled Cedar Rapids and the seemingly automatic election to Linn County sheriff after he, too, had overseen an investigation that had gone sideways, allowing a man accused of being a serial predator to remain on the streets for an additional five years, until he killed a girl and was finally put away.
It wasn’t hard to see Venneslund’s pattern after that. His victimology had been carefully concealed inside Garrett’s original one. Officers of the law who had failed, or who he perceived as having failed. Who needed to be punished. Who needed to have their daughters—daughters just like Monica—ripped out of their lives so they could feel an ounce of his own endless anguish and agony. Why he’d started killing so suddenly, no one knew. Not yet. Venneslund’s apartment was practically bare, save for the second bedroom that had been set up like a shrine to his daughter. Had he simply cracked? Had he nurtured his rage until it boiled over into a fantasy? Years of wanting to make others pay turning, one day, into plans for revenge?
There was no sign Venneslund knew about Garrett, or vice versa. They weren’t working together.
Neither Katie nor Noah handled Cole’s leaving again well at all. Katie was sullen and grumpy in the morning, and she’d picked a fight with Noah over her shoes being left out, eaten half a pancake Cole cooked, and then was quiet the whole drive to school. But she’d hugged Cole until he thought his ribs would snap, and she made him put his phone number in her phone so she could call him and ask for his help when her dad “sucks, as usual.”
