I sighed. “I know what it was,” I said grimly. “I lived through it.”
“Seth—” But he didn’t continue.
Restlessness hit me, quick and hard, and I stood up abruptly, pulling my hands away from Elliot, leaving him kneeling in front of the couch. I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t see the disappointment or hurt or whatever other expressions crossed the chiseled planes of his face.
“I have to go back.”
“Okay,” he said softly.
“I’ll leave in the morning,” I told him walking down the hall. “Try to get as much driving in as I can.”
“No,” he said softly.
I whirled. “What the hell do you mean,no?”
“Youaren’t driving back,” he told me. “Weare.”
I tried arguingwith Elliot about coming with me, but my heart wasn’t in it. I knew he was going to have to give up some commissions, delay others, maybe get Shira and Hank to finish up some of the simpler jobs, although Shira was learning fast, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem from a business standpoint. But they weren’t Elliot Crane, master carpenter.
He informed me in no uncertain terms that they would be just fine, and his other jobs could wait until this got sorted out, or they could go fuck themselves. His phrase, not mine.
I didn’t point out that wasn’t the kind of attitude that got you repeat business, mostly because I knew it wouldn’t make a difference.
Also because I really, desperately wanted him to come with me.
I hadn’t been able to reach Noah, which was worrying, and I really, really,reallydidn’t want to do this by myself.
I had talked to Lulu. I’d texted them when Noah hadn’t replied after the first hour, and they’d sent back a message telling me they’d call when they could.
That reply had me in knots the whole time I threw clothes into the duffel Elliot had given me—because it was bigger than any bag I owned—and I was pretty sure I’d probably forgotten something important like socks or underwear or shirts. Toothpaste, maybe.
It had been another two hours before Lulu called back.
They told me that Noah had been pulled in for questioning and was still being held because Momma had contacted him and said she wanted to see him. Well. Sort of.
According to Lulu, she’d left a voicemail telling Noah—only she hadn’t called himNoah, of course—that she needed to see him. To speak to him. That he should call her or come see her.
But, also according to Lulu, Noah hadn’t called her back. At least not as far as they knew.
He had gone out camping to clear his head. Alone. In Shenandoah. He’d shut off his phone, and hadn’t resurfaced until the afternoonafterMomma had been killed.
He’d used his one phone call to beg Lulu to call both me and a lawyer. I understood why. I’d have called Elliot if it had been me, but it still stung a little that I hadn’t been Noah’s first choice.
I didn’t really sleep, worrying about what had happened, worrying about Noah and what might be happening to him in the Augusta County Sheriff’s lockup, worrying about what I was going to find when I got back to the place where I’d lived the first fifteen years of my life.
Fifteen years I’d tried very hard to pretend hadn’t happened.
It was seven in the morning when I pulled my FJ Cruiser out of the driveway, Elliot already dozing in the passenger seat, although he’d promised sleepily to take over for me after a few hours. I tried to remind myself to breathe slowly and deeply. That getting worked up wasn’t going to get me there any faster, and it wasn’t going to help Noah.
I still hadn’t been able to talk to him.
It didn’t look good. Especially if you had even half an inkling how police were trained to look for homicide suspects, and I had more than that. As much as I hated it, I couldn’t blame the police for bringing Noah in for questioning. He hypothetically had motive—whether they wanted to go with the revenge angleor the inheriting-property angle. He had no alibi for the time of the murder, having been camping and intentionally off-grid, shutting off his phone. The people most likely to kill someone were family and romantic partners, so even those stats were against him. The sheriff’s department was holding him while they tried to build their case. I knew they had seventy-two hours to bring charges.
They had fifty-three hours left.
I’d also called Humbolt back and demanded to know why he hadn’t mentioned the fact that my brother was being questioned regarding our mother’s death. He’d expressed surprise and told me that he didn’t know Ihada brother. Because of course he didn’t. My mother had hired him—which meant he’d been trying to findEleanorMays, notNoahMays.
I’d cleared that up pretty damn fast.
