Page 42 of Little Hidden Fears

“At an engagement party she was hosting, yes. In the middle of the party, there was a power outage, and during that time, she was strangled to death.”

His eyes began to water, and he bowed his head, voice lowering to a shaky rattle. “Of all the people who didn’t deserve something like that to happen, she’d be at the top.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Noelle showed me kindness when no one else did, kindness I didn’t deserve and still don’t.” He paused, then added, “She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.”

And just like that, the scripture-quoting part of our conversation had commenced.

I feigned innocence, for now, saying, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Proverbs 31:26.”

“I see.”

“Are you a religious woman, Miss Germaine?”

I ignored the question.

What I was or was not was none of his concern, nor did it have any relevance to the reason for my visit.

“I’d like to see your hands, if you don’t mind,” I said.

“Of course, may I ask why?”

“I’ve seen the autopsy photos. There were bruises on Noelle’s neck, finger impressions from being strangled.”

“If you’ve come here today to find out if I had anything to do with her murder, let me put you at ease. I did not. I haven’t seen Noelle since we were in court.”

He raised his hands in front of him like he was under arrest, and I stepped forward. For as slender as he was, his fingers were large.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“I’m not, but you can put your hands down now.”

I stared at him for a moment, and he stared back, and I noticed something I hadn’t in the photos I’d seen—his eyes were two different colors. One brown, the other more yellowish-green. It was a rare condition called heterochromia, affecting a mere 1% of the population.

He placed his hands in his lap and turned, looking out the window at a large pine tree. “I’m sorry to hear about her death, and I hope her family is all right. Her parents are good people, even if they hate me, as I imagine they still do. Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all wrongs.”

“If you don’t mind, can we forego the scripture passages during our visit?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“You haven’t offended, but let’s stick to discussing the topic at hand.”

“The topic of murder, you mean.”

“I do. Where were you on the evening of March 13th?”

“Hard for me to remember what I did yesterday, let alone where I was over two weeks ago.”

“Try.”

“I don’t get out much. I find it’s better to keep to myself. Helps my head to remain clear, free of things I ought not to think about.”

“Can you answer the question?”

“I’d say I was home that evening, as I am most evenings.”

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