Page 76 of On the Chase
“True. I just don’t like the idea of you being afraid and alone.”
She waved her hand to brush off his concern. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about. Your uncle is a dangerous man. You’re not planning on confronting him with what I told you, are you?”
Staring at the sticky table, he blew out a short breath. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know what to think. Tell me again what you thought you saw that night at my uncle’s house.”
Grace frowned. “I didn’t just imagine this.”
“No, of course not.” Although his tone of voice was smoothly apologetic on the surface, she heard a slight hesitation. “All I meant was that we all see things differently. That’s why eyewitness accounts are considered to be the least reliable evidence. People filter everything through their own experiences. I didn’t mean to say you were making this up. I know you better than to think you’d ever invent a story like that.”
It took her a second for his comments to sink in, for her to realize that he was trying to make her doubt herself, to question whether she really did see those three battered, bloody men. Swallowing the angry words she wanted to let fly, Grace pasted on a syrupy-sweet smile instead. “I’m glad that you know me so well that you realize I wouldn’t make up a crazy story about your uncle torturing people.” When he frowned, she dialed back the saccharine gratitude. As much as she wanted to tear into him for trying to gaslight her, that wasn’t the purpose of the meeting. “He’s like a dad to you, isn’t he?”
“Yeah.” Noah looked a little startled by the change of subject, and his answer sounded bluntly honest.
Reaching across the table, she laid her hand on his. “I’m sorry. This must be so hard to hear.”
Just like that, the mask was back. “Thanks, Kaylee. I just want to be here for you. What do you need?”
“Help me understand.” It was much easier to try to pump information from Noah-bot, with his fake platitudes and barely hidden condescension, than it was from honest Noah, who reminded her too much of the man she’d dated less than a month ago. “You know Martin so well. Is there any reason for him to be involved in this? Could he have fallen in with some bad company? Maybe he got mixed up in illegal things and realized too late that he was stuck.”
Noah’s eyes cooled as he pulled his hand out from under hers. “Uncle Martin is not a weak man. He wouldn’t blindlyfollow”—he spat out the word—“some criminal. My uncle is a leader.”
Grace wondered if Noah realized that he wasn’t helping his uncle’s case. “What about his friends or business partners? Do any of them seem like they could do something like this? Maybe your uncle didn’t even know about what was happening in the basement.” That wouldn’t explain why Martin had tried to drag her back into the house, but she was hoping to get Noah talking.
“Uncle Martin wouldn’t associate with someone who’d condone torture, much less use it.” Noah’s hands fisted for just a split second before he flattened them out again. That small flash of obvious anger made her stomach clench. The meeting hadn’t produced any helpful information, and, by the way Noah was shifting in his chair, he wasn’t going to be staying in the food court much longer. If she didn’t get him to give hersomething, this would be a waste—all the work that went into arranging it, all the FBI agents’ time, all of her anxious moments leading up to the call and this meeting. Hugh should be home in bed, recovering from his injuries. Instead, he was here, just in case she needed him to save her.
Resolve hardened in her. Noah might not volunteer anything that could help them in the case against Martin Jovanovic, but she was going to try her hardest to get him to spill. For the FBI agents and for the tortured men and for Hugh and for her future, she was going to push until he walked away from her.
“If Martin didn’t do it, and none of his acquaintances did it, then why were those men being tortured in his house?” she demanded, dropping all pretense of sweetness.
Noah’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. “How do you know they were tortured?”
“Their injuries were pretty obvious,” she said, mimicking his posture so that they were face-to-face. “So were the chairs they were tied to, and all the knives and pliers laid out next to them. Oh, and the blood. There was a lot of blood.”
“Did you actually see them being tortured?”
“Just the aftermath.” Her nervous stomach settled, and all she felt was calm. “You don’t need to see a house burn. If you see the smoldering ruin, you’ll have a pretty good idea about what happened.”
He made a scoffing sound, his gaze so cold that she would’ve cowered if she hadn’t been so focused on making him say something to implicate Martin. “You don’t know who those guys were. They could’ve staged it. Every successful business owner has enemies.”
Her laugh came out as a humorless bark. “Right. Because an empty eye socket is easy to fake. This wasn’t pretend blood and Halloween party favors, Noah. If your uncle has enemies, it’s because hetortures them.”
His face turned white, a muscle ticking at his jaw, and Grace fought the urge to escape. All the fear she’d pushed out of the way came rolling back in, and she struggled to hide it as she held his gaze.
“I think we’re done,” he said coolly. “I can’t be with someone who says such terrible lies about my uncle.”
Several things tried to escape her mouth at once. She wanted to yell that they weren’t lies, and that his uncle was an evil man. The logical part of her wanted to convince him to stay a little longer. If she could keep prodding at him until he lost his cool, there was a chance he would blurt out something the FBI could use. One glance at his face, however, told her that pushing any further was useless. He was locked up tightly, and her gut told her that she wouldn’t get anything else out of him that day.
A tiny, petty voice in her head also really wanted to tell him thathecouldn’t break up withher, because they hadn’t been together since his uncle tried to kill her. Besides, now she was with Hugh, who was fifty times the man that Noah could only hope to be.
But that would get them nowhere fast.
“Fine.” She stood and picked up her barely touched, now-stone-cold coffee. It was an effort to not crush the cup in her fist. “Thank you for coming all this way to meet with me. If you do notice something suspicious about Martin, please tell someone—the FBI or the police. He’s hurting people, and he needs to be stopped.” Dropping her coffee cup in a trash can, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. “Goodbye, Noah.”
He didn’t say a word. His face was hard, cold, and she was baffled at how she ever could have thought that he was one of the good guys. Noah Jovanovic had “villain” written all over him. Penny had been so right not to trust him, and Grace couldn’t wait to hear her friend say “I told you so.”
Looking straight in front of her, Grace walked away from the table…and the last wisps of her Disney prince fantasy disintegrated. When she reached the edge of the food court, she finally gave in and glanced back at their table. Noah was gone.
A wave of sadness and frustration and worry crashed over her, and she ducked into a women’s bathroom. She was relieved to see all three stalls were open and empty, and no one stood at the sinks. This way, she could have her nervous breakdown in peace. A sob wanted to escape, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to hold it in. She wasn’t sad that she and Noah were finished. It wasn’t that at all. Hugh was all she wanted, and she intended to keep him. His declaration that he’d go to California with her and grow oranges was the most amazing gift she’d ever been given. If she decided that she truly wanted to return to her Los Angeles life, Hugh would be there with her. She didn’t have to choose, didn’t have to split her happiness in order to keep him. He’d offered to leave his partners and his department and the house he’d grown up in, all to be with her. The thought made her want to do a happy dance, squeal with excitement, and burst into tears, all at the same time.
