Page 60 of Nothing Hiding

"It was all thanks to Detective Black," Wyatt said as they climbed into the helicopter. It was an hour later, and police were still on the scene, wrapping up after the last of the photos and evidence had been taken.

The killer had been driven to the hospital under police guard. The detectives had identified him as Norman Clark, an archaeologist who'd lost his wife in an accident a few years ago, and who had since suffered a severe breakdown. He had been fired and hospitalized in a psychiatric ward for a few months after starting to carry out the violent threats he’d made to his colleagues.

Juliette had been fascinated to learn his background, but she was also very eager to know how Detective Black had pieced together the facts and gotten here in time.

"Thank you," Juliette said, turning to Black, who was sitting behind her. "You saved my life. All three of you did, in fact. But how did you figure it out?"

"When I was debriefing Louise, I kept remembering what you’d said about his obsession. And I thought there was something strange about the way this poor woman had said he’d been talking about the stones. I figured out the only reason could be that he was changing his plans and was going to use it as his next killing place. It made sense, with London crawling with police. And then, I started to realize that he must have targeted you because you’d basically followed a chain of evidence there." Black looked proud at her own chain of logic as Juliette nodded admiringly.

"I organized the helicopter immediately," Harris said. "And we came straight here, all of us, with Wyatt hanging out the window with his gun, ready to shoot if he needed to."

That had been an accurate shot. True, calmly done, and it showed her the mettle of her partner anew.

"I'm so glad you got here in time," Juliette said. Without a doubt, the Scotland Yard detective had saved her life with her quick thinking and the team’s actions. Another minute and it would have been too late.

“Sierra’s been busy,” Wyatt said, checking his phone. “She’s managed to hack into Doone’s hidden messages, and I see she’s already traced two of this killer’s other connections, who were part of this conspiracy to sacrifice women to the stones. And she’s got evidence from the message trail that Doone was also advising Norman on what to do and how to trap you, Juliette. They’ll all face the consequences. I believe one’s already been arrested. And local police are searching Norman’s home, which is in Salisbury. Apparently, it looks much the same as Doone’s cabin. Loads of evidence.” He sounded pleased.

"We're getting commendations coming in," Harris said, checking his phone. "The ambassador has sent us a personal thanks. He's grateful that we've provided closure and that we've prevented further deaths." He stared at Juliette with a rueful expression. "It took a while, and I'm sorry we weren't more agreeable at the start. It was new to us, and we had history with a joint FBI operation that didn’t work out. I went into this with the same mindset, and it was wrong. I guess this has taught me a lesson."

"We were very glad to have you two as partners," she said. Without the ambassador's insistence on Scotland Yard joining in, they'd never have powered the case forward to such a swift conclusion or saved her life. "Relationships that get off to a rocky start, sometimes work out the best," she acknowledged with a smile that the other detectives, and Wyatt, returned.

And that, with suddenness, made her think of Lucien, and the uncertainty surrounding their relationship—if it even was a relationship anymore. She resolved to face that hurdle as soon as she was home.

***

"We need to talk, face to face. We need to figure out how this can work," Juliette said, holding the phone between her shoulder and ear as she spoke to Lucien while unpacking her father's book box.

"I know. We do, but there just isn’t time," Lucien said, sounding frustrated.

It was early in the morning four days later, and she was using the first available free time they’d both simultaneously had since the case for a quick phone call.

She didn’t want to give up on this relationship. She wanted to prove Wyatt wrong and to fight for what they had. Somehow, surely, it must work?

“When are we going to be able to meet?” Juliette pleaded. This wasn’t something to be thrashed out over the phone. “Surely there’ll be time this coming weekend? Or next?”

But now, Wyatt’s words were hitting home. Neither of them had time to schedule a simple phone call easily. What chance was there of fitting in an in-person visit that involved three and a half hours on a train each way?

It wasn’t just the physical distance anymore. It was the distance she heard in his voice. He didn’t sound the same.

“Juliette, if you can come here, there’s a chance I might have some free time next weekend. But I can’t guarantee it. We have a massive raid that we’re scheduling for some time soon, and it might be then.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling deflated by another possibility struck off the calendar.

He paused. “Look, I don’t want to be the one to say this. But I’m going to. We need to take a break from this relationship. It’s not working out.”

Tears prickled her eyes, and she took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling surprisingly emotional now that the worst had happened, and Lucien had spoken those words. Hearing them was so final. The fact that it was over. She wanted to fight for it, to try to make it work, but at the same time, she could see the futility.

“Juliette, you are an amazing person,” he said regretfully. “But it’s just too much distance and too little time, and it's not going to improve. I'm sorry. We can stay friends. But anything else, for now, it’s going to end up fizzling out. And detracting from what we had.”

There was a long silence. She scrubbed a hand over her eyes.

"I guess there’s no other choice," she said, her voice hoarse.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"So am I. More than you know.” She swallowed down another sob. “But I agree. I’ve been wanting it to end up differently, but deep down, I know what you’re saying.”

“I still want to speak to you properly about it, face to face. This is not what should have happened. And it's not your fault or mine."

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