Page 14 of Little Hidden Fears

Voice shaking, he said, “If she thinks there will ever be something between us, she’s mistaken. Noelle is the only woman I’ll ever love. I will never,everbe with anyone else.”

It was a bold statement, raising more questions.

“When did you and Noelle first meet?” I asked.

“She was my high school sweetheart.”

“I know it’s tough to talk about your wife so soon after her death. If you think you could find it in yourself to do it, even for a short time, I would appreciate it. Any information you can give me sooner than later ...”

“Isn’t there a way you can conduct your investigation and leave me out of it? I’ve already spoken to the police, and I answered their questions. Can’t you just talk to them?”

“I can, and I have, but having a separate conversation with you gives me a better picture of who your wife was and why someone murdered her.” I paused, then added, “What if we don’t discuss the night she died for now? What if we talk about her instead?”

After a long pause, he said, “I’ll consider it. What do you want to know?”

“What was Noelle like in her day-to-day life? How did she spend her time? Did she have a lot of friends? Was she involved in the community in any way?”

Slow down, Georgiana.

Don’t overwhelm the guy.

“You’ve hit me with a lot of questions,” he said. “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“Why don’t we start at the beginning? How did the two of you meet?”

“I’d like to skip over that part of our lives for now, if you don’t mind.”

I wondered why, but I didn’t press the issue.

“All right,” I said. “How about you tell me whatever you feel comfortable sharing about her.”

He took a deep breath in. “When my grandfather died, I inherited a large sum of money. I was young, in college at the time. Growing up, my grandfather had taught me a lot about how to make money with money, so I put a fair amount of what I’d inherited into the stock market and various other places.”

I wasn’t sure what his money habits had to do with Noelle, or where he was going with the conversation, but I kept quiet, hoping if he kept talking, it would all make sense.

“By the time I married Noelle, we were set for life,” he continued. “I didn’t even have to work, but I like working. It gives me purpose, so I became a partner and an investor in various startups I believed in. Noelle didn’t come from money, and it meant a great deal to me to give her the life she deserved. We were happy here. So happy.”

“Did Noelle work?”

“Not in a formal way. I wanted her to focus on herself, on her hopes and dreams. We both loved to travel, and we did a lot of it together, first by ourselves, and then with our daughter. Noelle also enjoyed her volunteer work. Giving back to the community meant a lot to her.”

“Where did she volunteer?”

“A few different places, but most of her free time was spent at the women’s center. It’s a place for abused women looking for a fresh start in life.”

“How long did she volunteer?”

“Up to her dying day. She felt the center was the one place she could contribute the most. She connected to the women on a personal level, and they trusted her.”

He’d just told me a lot more than he realized.

He’d said the women connected to Noelle on a personal level.

They trusted her, which told me she empathized with their situations.

Empathy was different than sympathy.

Sympathy came from a place of feeling sorry for another’s misfortune.

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