Page 30 of The Grave Between Us
“They think the shooting is connected to a case I worked on a long time ago. Have you ever heard of Ian Ingram?”
He could almost feel Noah think, spin through his memories. “Yeah,” Noah said. “I remember that name. I was looking for information on serial killers the FBI apprehended when we were first trying to track down the Coed Killer. His name came up in the database, but there wasn’t much information available. The files were mostly redacted, aside from basic biographics. I think I put in a request for access, but I never heard anything back.”
“I’m sure your request was ignored. If you’d pressed it, it would have been denied.”
“Why?” Noah twisted, looking up at Cole. He frowned. “What’s special about him? And what’s the connection to what happened to us?”
“He escaped,” Cole whispered. “We don’t have him anymore. We lost him eight years ago.”
Noah’s eyes went as wide as saucers. The blood drained from his face as his lips moved, searching for something to say.
“I was the lead interrogator.”
Lead interrogator. As if that banal term could encompass what he’d done, what he’d become, and what Ian had become to him in the space of those months. Such a short time. But black holes could suck whole galaxies of light into their frozen cores. Ian Ingram could swallow Cole’s entire life. Then and now. Now, Cole had so much more to lose.
“Does the Bureau think he’s coming after you? After all this time?”
Not me.Cole’s stomach lurched. He leaned his cheek against Noah’s head. “It’s just a theory,” he said. “There’s some indication he’s involved. But that’s for them to worry about. Ian Ingram belongs to the BAU, and they’re taking over the investigation. I’m not involved.” He stroked Noah’s arm and realized he was squeezing Noah’s hand so hard Noah’s fingertips were turning blue. He consciously relaxed, uncurled his shaking fingers. “Right now, your job is to rest and recover. And my job is to watch over you and take care of you.” He kissed Noah, first on his hair, then on his nose, then on his lips.
Noah kissed him back, softly, sweetly. Cole ran his hand up Noah’s arm and cradled his head in his palm as he deepened the kiss. Noah’s eyes fluttered closed, and he sighed, leaning into Cole like he could give all of his worries over and Cole would take care of him. Like Cole would keep him safe from gunshots and escaped serial killers and monsters who moved in the dark… even though Cole hadn’t kept him safe, and he had no idea if he could.
Resolve slid through his bones. He kissed Noah deeper, pushing their foreheads together.I swear, he won’t touch you again. Never again. No matter what.
Noah curled into his side and held on. After a few minutes his breathing evened out, and his hold on Cole’s hand loosened, and he relaxed in Cole’s arms, snoring softly. Cole watched him sleep, watched his chest rise and fall. He rested his hand over Noah’s heart and felt its steady beat, the thrum of his lover’s life.
When Noah was limp and snoring, Cole eased himself out of Noah’s bed. He slipped into the hallway and shut the door, then made his way to the stairwell, pulling out his cell phone and tapping a number that was still programmed into his speed dial.
“King,” Michael grunted. There was a rushing noise over the line, like Michael was on the move, going somewhere fast.
“It’s me,” Cole said. He turned to face the corner of the stairwell, as if he could hide his words.
“Did you talk to Downing?”
“He doesn’t remember anything. He has no memory of Ian, or of the photos being taken.”
“Are you certain? We should still show him a six-pack, see if he can pick Ingram out of a lineup—”
“I’m sure,” Cole said, cutting him off. “He doesn’t remember, and I don’t want to excavate that memory if it is there somewhere. Noah doesn’t need to remember being tortured or having his own gun pushed into the side of his head.”
Michael sighed.
Cole dug the pictures Michael had brought out of his jeans pocket. He flicked through the crumpled paper, his heart seizing when he got to the picture of Noah screaming in agony. “Even without Noah’s ID, we still have Ian’s fingerprints on the photos.”
“We?”
“You. The FBI.”
“I’m on the way to Omaha,” Michael said suddenly. “We’re going to pick apart Downing’s SUV and take a look at the evidence Omaha’s collected. I’m hoping we’ll find something there, but I don’t need anything more to convince me this is Ingram. The fingerprints, the photos. I know it’s him.”
Cole folded the pictures and shoved them back in his pocket. “I know it’s him, too,” he whispered. A beat of silence passed. “Why now?” Cole snapped. “Why Noah? Why is he targeting him?”
“Downing is important to you.”
“Noah isn’t the only man I’ve dated.”
“He’s the only man you’ve asked to marry you.”
Cole sagged against the wall. “You think he’s been watching me? For eight years?”
