Page 45 of Colton's Second Chance
His hoarse voice from earlier in the day echoed in her brain, and her blood flashed hot, then icy. “Eli, no! Get out! There could be another bomb!”
He appeared at the door, his face grim but calm. “It’s all good. I checked for a trigger as I walked in, but when I saw the condition of the place, I realized a bomb wasn’t the intruder’s goal.”
She frowned. “Condition of the place?”
He pulled the door open wider and waved a hand for her to enter.
Noelle looked past him, wary. “No bombs? You’re sure?”
“I gave the place a pretty thorough search. No sign of anything remotely resembling an explosive device or components.”
She hesitated another few seconds, working up her courage, until Eli sent her a look that asked,Don’t you trust me?
She did trust Eli. With her life. But was she ready to trust him with her heart?
Another problem for another time.
He took her hand and led her inside the dark studio apartment. He flipped the light switch by the door and lit the room.
Noelle squawked her shock at the upheaval that greeted her. The furniture had been upended, cushions flung about and ripped open. Her suitcase was dumped on the floor. Her possessions had been ransacked, broken, scattered. Loose paper was spread everywhere, and books unshelved. Drawers were open and carelessly emptied on the countertop. The scene was pure chaos. Pure destruction.
A sense of rage and vulnerability swamped her. The invasion of her privacy, the mistreatment of her belongings, the calculated disregard and intrusion…
She swayed on her feet, and Eli caught her elbow. Clinging to his coat sleeve, she wobbled to the kitchen chair that he righted for her.
“You should see if anything is missing and report the break-in to the landlord.”
She nodded, numb and shaking. “Who would do this?” she muttered. “Why?”
Noelle covered her face with her hands and allowed a frustrated and rather frightened growl to roll from her throat. “I haven’t even been here for two weeks! Hardly anyone even knows I’m here besides you, and my aunt and unc—” She snapped her head toward Eli, her hands balling in rage. “My aunt and uncle! I’ve already had to sign a second contract with the funeral home because of their meddling. Do you suppose…is their grudge against me, their disdain for me so great that they’d—” She stopped short.
Eli was shaking his head slowly, the anger and clarity in his gaze unnerving.
“Then who?” As soon as she spoke, an echo reverberated in her head. She’d asked the same question when she’d learned her brake line had been sabotaged.
“You’re right that very few people know you’re in town. But Scott is one of them, and he knows we had a relationship once, knows we’ve been spending time together since you arrived. If this is about me, as I’m starting to suspect, he could have lured you here to taunt me. He could have targeted Allison to get you here because of our past. The Fiancée Killer has already dug up my aunt’s murder and copied it. Based on everything else we’re learning, I’d say he’s striking out at me through you.”
If she hadn’t already been sitting, Noelle might have slumped to the floor. As it was, her body shuddered, and her head spun. “You really think he killed Allison to lure me here? So that he could get at you… How? By hurting me?”
Or killing me. Ice rippled through her.
When Eli squatted beside her, she met his gentle eyes. “Noelle, think about it. Your brakes were cut. Intentionally.” His voice was calm and soothing despite his frightening message. “I’d say Scott has already tried to hurt you. Or worse.”
Scott…
Noelle sucked in a sharp breath as her gaze cut to the table where she’d been working. It was empty. A sensation like electricity raced through her veins. “Oh no,” she rasped.
“What?” Eli whipped his head around to look across the room where she stared in horror.
“The paper files. All the sheets I’d printed off and the hard copies of information you gave me on the case.” She swallowed hard, regret churning in her gut. “I—I had them on that table when I left.”
Eli’s eyes widened, and he mumbled a curse. Surging to his feet, he moved to look among the detritus scattered around thebase of the empty table, then scanned the room slowly, as she did, for any evidence of the files. But they were gone.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, guilt filling her. “You trusted me with those files and—”
He touched a finger to her lips to silence her. “No. You’ve done nothing wrong. The files were locked in a room where you had every expectation they would be safe.”
Her heart tripped, doubting she deserved the grace he offered her. She should have kept the paper case files as secure as she’d kept her computer. Scott—because she, too, felt in her bones the forensic specialist was behind the break-in—now knew the details of what they’d uncovered about his tampering with the case.
