Page 10 of Colton's Second Chance
He only stared at her with those heart-stopping blue eyes.
She took another swig of beer and steeled her nerve to ask a harder question. “How did Allison die? Did she suffer?”
He gave her a dubious look. “Noelle, do you really want to know the gritty details? Don’t torture yourself with that kind of information.”
Her grip tightened on her beer mug. “I know it’s not pleasant. And I don’t want to dwell on it, but… I need to know.”
“Why? What good does it do?” His voice was gentle, compassionate. His expression said he didn’t want to see her hurt.
Something in her core longed to reach out to him, to curl in the comfort his arms could provide…and sob. But her brain shut that foolish impulse down. She’d done what she had to in college in order to protect herself from that sort of vulnerability. When she’d felt herself growing dependent on him, falling in love with him, putting her heart at risk for him, she’d broken things off, shut him out. She wouldn’t unravel the years of work she’d put in, knitting together a protective cocoon, constructing a new life for herself that put him in the past.
She squared her shoulders, hoping to present herself as more determined and courageous than she felt. “Because I need closure.”
His blue eyes filled with sympathy and understanding. He nodded and appeared ready to tell her what she wanted to know, when she blew it by adding, “And because I want to work with you on the case. I want to help you catch the man who killed my sister.”
Eli sloshed the coffee he’d lifted toward his mouth, so stunned by Noelle’s pronouncement that he’d flinched. “What!”
“Before you get defensive—” she started, holding up her index finger.
He scoffed an incredulous laugh. “Not defensive. Just practical. And, well, following thelaw. You cannot be involved in this case. Period.”
“Not even if I can be helpful? I can offer my services at no charge to the ABI, and I won’t—”
“Your services?” His coffee splashed again as he thunked the ceramic mug onto the table harder than he intended. “Are you saying you’re in law enforcement?”
She shifted her weight restlessly on the padded booth seat. “Uh, no. But—”
“Well, then that’s an end to it. Case closed.”
“Would you listen? I can be valuable to the investigation.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “How so?”
Her jaw firmed, and she drilled him with a level, all-business stare. Despite the seriousness of her gaze, his belly jolted as he met her beautiful dark eyes, remembering…
“Analytics.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Computer analytics. Statistics. Data mining. It’s a way of looking at large amounts of information in new ways, looking for patterns and contrasts. Of maximizing data to reveal truths not readily apparent otherwise.”
“I know what analytics means. I’ve heard of sports teams using computer statistics and so forth to find the best players and the best game strategies. How would you use analytics on the Fiancée Killer investigation?”
“I’d input everything you know about the—”
“Nope, nope, never mind.” He waved both hands. “I shouldn’t have asked. You can’t be involved.”
Her brow furrowed over her dark brown eyes, and her mouth pinched. “Not even if I can be useful? Are you so stuck on your blessed rules that you’d shut out an offer to make a difference in the case? To get a better perspective on the big picture? I might be able to help you get a clearer idea of the sort of person the killer is.”
“That’s what our profiler does. We’re already compiling an outline of the killer’s likely personality and physical traits.”
The waiter arrived with their meals, and Eli hoped it would be enough to derail the conversation. But he should have known better.
“What has your profiler determined?” she asked, choosing a french fry from the stack on her plate.
He rolled his eyes. Noelle had always been stubborn. When she fixed her mind on an idea or plan of action, she could rarely be persuaded otherwise.
The most painful example of this was her notion that because of their differences—a term she never defined—they couldn’t have a future together. After an intense and passionate two years together in college, she’d abruptly broken things off. He’d tried to convince her he cared far more about the ways they were the same and that his love was strong enough to overcome any challenges. But she’d been certain their differences would someday come back to bite them. She’d said only that experience had taught her that even the people you loved and trusted most could change their mind about you and push you aside.
