by Hannah West
“Planning to meet the Henderson witness on Thursday. I’m hoping she’ll be willing to talk and give us a real lead this time.”
Noelle shuffled her notes, trying to think of anything else that she wanted to go over with Riley. They were kind of scattered lately, pursuing multiple leads on multiple cases. They hadn’t gotten a new homicide in a few weeks - instead they were working up cold cases. The case meetings were with the original detectives, to get them more familiar with the nuances that might not be in the files.
“Good, good.” Riley tapped the file against the top of her cubicle. “Keep this up and before long you might find yourself with a proper office.” He winked, and then headed back into his office. Noelle smiled, watching him go. That was what she wanted. An office of her own, a promotion or two. She would love to head a department someday. Not that she expected that ever happening - she was a woman, and a widow on top of it.
They may not say it to her face, but that was a factor.
She turned back to her work, glancing at the files before she turned back to the data search screen. Sara McClaire, she typed in, hitting enter and biting her lip. What would she find?
When the results came up she could barely make herself look, her eyes shielded by her hand. She opened her fingers, peering through them to see Sara’s picture on the screen. She sighed in relief, her hand dropping to the desk. She skimmed the file, stopping at the most relevant part. Soulmate’s name, Ivan Bliminse. Not Clark. Then who was that crazy man in the parking lot?
She clicked on Ivan’s name. A man, something she still found interesting. Sara seemed to not care what gender someone belonged to, not if her soulmate was a man and she was dating Noelle. Such a thing was rare in their world, where people stayed with their soulmate for their entire lives.
Noelle frowned at the screen. There was a generic picture for Ivan. It didn’t look right, but she couldn’t identify why it didn’t. He was 5’8”, short brown hair, brown eyes. As plain as plain could be. She flipped back to Sara’s picture. Sara McClaire, 5’10”, black hair that framed her face, green eyes, sharp features. The opposite of plain.
Closing out the window, Noelle pulled up her notes and started going over them. She had to be ready for her meetings, and for now, she was tired of thinking about the mysterious man in the parking lot. Sara was still recovering, and it wasn’t the time to spring such a thing upon her. Besides, the man was probably lying. He was mad, or - a criminal, or something.
Still, she couldn’t shake lingering doubt. Was Sara lying? Or was it something more nefarious?
Noelle spent the night at Sara’s, curled up next to her, stroking a hand through Sara’s soft hair. The doctor was mostly asleep, laying on her back to avoid aggravating her ribs. She was better about taking her meds, now that she had been eased off of the harder painkillers.
Sighing, Noelle laid her head on the pillow, as close to Sara as she could. What was Sara hiding? What was Noelle missing? How many secrets did Sara have? In all honesty, Noelle didn’t know much about her past. They never talked about it. It never came up in Loss Meetings. Noelle had gotten the abbreviated version of how her partner died, that was it. She hadn’t pried because, at the time, she had been grieving Lydia.
As much as she could grieve Lydia, anyway.
Noelle rolled onto her back, unable to look at Sara. How had Sara been able to move past her soulmate? How did anyone, when their first partner was so perfect? Did Sara love her as much as she had loved Ivan? What about other partners Sara had had - Noelle wasn’t under the illusion that she was unique, she was special. Not to Sara. They weren’t perfect like that. But Sara seemed to like her, seemed to care for her, and Noelle liked her back.
Was that enough? Noelle couldn’t help but wonder whether or not it was. Was it just an inevitable trainwreck waiting to happen?
Despite Sara’s injuries, they both made it to the Loss Meeting that week. They had to. Well, Noelle did, and Sara didn’t want to be alone. There was still a few more days before she would be back to work, and Noelle had spent most of her free time at Sara’s apartment.
Noelle settled down into her chair, watching Sara take hers. She resisted the urge to help her - that would telegraph to the rest of them that they were together. She had driven Sara, if only because Sara couldn’t drive on her meds. They had gone as far as coming in separately, with a few minutes between. It was Noelle’s suggestion.
She smiled at Sara. “How are you feeling?”
Sara grimaced at the chair. “Should’ve taken a stronger painkiller before this.”
Noelle hid a smile. “Because of the chair or because of the content of the meeting?”
Sara quirked her eyebrows, smiling. “Is it bad if I say both?”
Noelle chuckled quietly.
“I call this meeting to order,” Michaela said, taking her place at the head of the meeting. “Now, we have a few new people attending, so I think we should go around the room and introduce ourselves and tell our stories.” She smiled.
Noelle swallowed. She hated this part.
She glanced over at Sara. Maybe - just maybe - she could use it to her advantage. She felt a stab of guilt, as if she was doing something wrong, but she shoved it away. She was just confirming the truth, after all. Because Sara hadn’t lied to her. There was no way that she had.
Eventually it was Noelle’s turn. “My name is Noelle, and my soulmate was murdered three months ago.” She listened to the gasps of horror, the chorus of sympathies, and plastered a smile on her face. “It’s hard, but day by day, I’m getting through it, thanks to the help of my friends.”
Sara reached out and patted her arm, her face the epitome of friendship. Noelle fought back a grin. “My name is Sara. My soulmate died in a car accident eight years ago.”
She said nothing more, and the group was quiet for a few moments. “And how are you dealing with it?” Noelle prompted, briefly taking Michaela’s position.
Sara shot her a quizzical glance. “Fine. I’ve been going to these meetings for a while.” She offered the group an apologetic smile.
“How old were you when he died?” Noelle looked sympathetic. Sara’s gaze narrowed slightly. Not enough to be called a glare, but enough that she was wary.
“Twenty two. It was my last year of undergraduate.” She glanced around the room. “Anything else anyone wants to know?”
Noelle shook her head, seemingly chastised. “Sorry.” She smiled meekly. Sara had given her facts, facts she could check. Confirm, make sure that - that Sara’s story matched up with what she could find in the records.
Sara studied her for a few moments while the man on Sara’s other side told his story. She seemed - distracted. Irritated. Almost concerned.
Noelle tried to look suitably chastened. She probably should not have pushed Sara as far as she had - but it was done and over with. All she could do was deal with what happened.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. Noelle didn’t hear most of what anyone said, she rarely did. She didn’t feel called to speak, or share. Not that she was entirely certain that she could have put her feelings into words. She didn’t know what she was feeling, not anymore.
Sara didn’t speak to her after the meeting, instead choosing to struggle to her feet and head out the door. She couldn’t move very fast, and she forgot her purse, so Noelle picked it up and followed without saying a word.
Unlocking the doors, Noelle slid in the driver’s side seat, but didn’t turn the car on. She stared straight ahead, listening to Sara settled into the seat and slowly, agonizingly buckle her belt.
“What the fu -” Sara stopped herself, and took a deep breath in and out. “What was that?”
Noelle didn’t flinch. She felt like she should, but she couldn’t. “I’m sorry.” She wasn’t lying, not with that. She could have been more subtle. “Just -” Noelle hesitated. “You never told me the whole story.”
Sara was quiet for a few moments. “I didn’t?”
N
oelle shook her head. “We haven’t talked about it since the day we got coffee, and. You know my story. But I don’t. Know yours.” She tried not to stumble over her words, but she did anyway. She wasn’t certain whether it was due to nerves or due to the undercurrent of lies. Technically they weren’t lies. Sara had told her some things, but Noelle worried.
Sara leaned over and put her hand on Noelle’s leg. “I’m sorry.”
Noelle looked at her, she smiled slightly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for bringing it up with everyone else around.”
Sara grimaced. “You could have just asked.”
Noelle looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of that.”
Sara sighed quietly and then removed her hand from Noelle’s leg. “Do you work tonight?”
Noelle went through her schedule in her mind. “No. Not till tomorrow.”
“Can you take me home?”
Noelle stilled. There it was, underlying Sara’s words. Take her home - and don’t stay. “Yeah. I’ll grab my clothes and take them and wash them.”
Sara inclined her head slightly. “Do you work day or night tomorrow?”
“Day.” Noelle started the car, backing out and getting the short-ish drive started.
“Do you want to come over afterwards? I have my first shift in a couple days.” Sara grimaced at the thought. “I’d love the company.”
Noelle hesitated, and then nodded. “I’ll bring dinner and a movie. So it’ll be like a date at my place, but at your place.”
Sara smiled, slowly and gradually. “I would like that, I think.”
Noelle tried to smile, and it wasn’t as convincing as she would have liked. “Sara?” She didn’t turn to look at her. She could see Sara turn to look at her, sense the faint concern emanating off of her. “You’re not lying to me, are you?”
Sara stilled, and when Noelle glanced at her, her face was as still as marble. “No,” she said after a moment. “Why would I lie to you?”
Noelle shook her head, most of her attention on the road. “I didn’t -” She paused, trying to gather her thoughts. “I know that a lot of people lie and sometimes people don’t even know they’re lying.” She shrugged. “I just. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Sara reached out and stroked her leg briefly, trying to comfort. “I do. Thanks.” She smiled.
For a moment, Noelle was pacified. Sara wasn’t lying. There was just a mix up somewhere, or that man was delusional, or - a mix of both.
The drive to Sara’s was short, and after that, they were both quiet. Noelle would have bet that Sara was as lost in her thoughts as Noelle was in hers. She slid to a stop in front of Sara’s apartment. She parked, helping Sara to the door and darting in to grab her overnight bag. When she made it back to the door, Sara was watching, her hand on a door frame.
Noelle hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll text you tonight, then?”
“Let me know you made it home safe.” Sara smiled, turning and heading inside. Noelle heard the click of the deadbolt, and then gave up staring and headed to her car. Once Sara was inside, Noelle started the drive home.
It wasn’t a far drive, not really. She and Sara lived relatively closed together. But Noelle’s stomach churned the entire trip, her mind nearly swirling with all of her thoughts. She was fairly certain that Sara wasn’t lying, but she could be. Who was Ivan Bliminse? Who was Clark Debrov? Noelle had never seen anything wrong with the Soulmate database, but that didn’t preclude that from being the case.
She parked and took her purse inside, tossing it on the table and going into the kitchen. It had taken a year or so, but she had learned how to pack food ahead of time for work, and she was nearly out. Besides, it was mindless work. She didn’t have to think while she cooked, besides making sure that she didn’t accidentally cut herself.
For the next couple hours she lost herself in prepping food for the week, sorting it into containers and fiddling with knobs and knives. It was nice to not have to think. To not have to worry.
Once food was done, Noelle took her time and did the dishes. She didn’t have anything else to do before work tomorrow. It was getting late, though. But she wasn’t tired. She grimaced and cleaned her kitchen instead.
Eventually she retired to bed, and slept fitfully. She didn’t know what tomorrow would hold.
When Noelle arrived at work the next day, she glanced around uneasily, waiting to see if the man would come out of the shadows. Riley met her at the front door, his eyebrows raised. “You okay?”
Noelle shifted, gripping her purse handle more tightly than she had intended. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You look like -” Riley stopped himself, considering. “Not a good night?”
Noelle grimaced. “You could say that.”
“Hey.” Riley reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Noelle toyed with the idea of telling him for a moment. What would he say? Would he have any good advice, ideas on what to do? She decided against it. He wouldn’t understand, married to his soulmate as he was. He wouldn’t know what to do with the uncertainty. Besides, he might look into Noelle’s life, or Sara’s, and Noelle didn’t want to risk that happening. She was already on tenuous ground as it was. Her status had already been called into question. “Drama.” Noelle shrugged.
Riley studied her for a few moments. “You know anything you tell me won’t get reported unless they’re one of the three exceptions.”
Noelle ticked them off on her fingers. “Plans to harm myself or others. Immediate danger. Child abuse. I know.” She smiled faintly. “Sara and I fought yesterday, is all. I didn’t sleep well.”
“Elsy and I had that fight last weekend,” he said with a firm nod.
Noelle couldn’t help but stare.
“Yes, soulmates do fight.” His smile was crooked.
Noelle glanced away. He had mentioned it before, but it was one thing to hear it once and another to have it repeated, as if it wasn’t some sort of one-off. She was somewhat surprised and somewhat not. Sara had talked about that, about how nothing was perfect. Not even soulmates, no matter what society said was perfect. “I’m sorry.”
Riley let out a surprised chuckle. “Why sorry?”
“Fights aren’t - well. They aren’t very fun in my experience.” Noelle grimaced.
Riley patted her shoulder. “They’re part of growing. If you don’t fight, that’s when you get concerned.”
Noelle thought of Lydia, of what must have happened between her and her non-soulmate partner. “Fighting too much can be a problem.”
Riley raised his eyebrows, chiding gently. “I trust you’re smart enough to know when too much is too much.”
Noelle set her lips in a mulish frown. “Any is too much, according to the books.”
Riley chuckled. “You’re reading the wrong books.”
Noelle studied him for a few moments. Maybe that was true, maybe it wasn’t. Still - no. Noelle firmly tucked the thought away. She had time to think about Clark and Ivan and Sara later. “Can the database ever be wrong?” she asked instead.
Riley looked startled. “Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “I don’t think it’s ever been hacked.”
“At least not that’s been released,” Noelle said. She had heard stories of the FBI taking on cyber criminals and surely one of them could hack it if they wanted to.
Riley raised his eyebrows. “Conspiracy theories now, are we?”
Noelle blushed. “No.”
“If I ever hear about a hack, I’ll let you know.” Riley smiled.
“What about otherwise?” Noelle asked. “Any sort of error, or anything? Did it ever calculate marks wrong?”
Riley tapped his fingers thoughtfully on his shoulder, arms crossed across his chest. “ls it really that important to you?”
Noelle swallowed. Was it? Did she really want to go down this rabbit hole? “Yes.”
“I’ll do some digging, ask around.” Riley wrapped an arm around her sh
oulder and hugged her, one-sided. “But for now it’s time to work.”
She was sitting in her cubicle when she heard a commotion. There were voices in her supervisor’s office - she recognized the DA by her sultry voice. Strange but effective lady, and rare in that she was one of the four female lawyers in the government-hired bunch. Riley came out of Ty’s office, heading straight for Noelle.
“Did you hear?” he asked, his voice low. He was trying to be nonchalant, but Noelle could read tension in his body language. “Samantha Kennedy murdered her husband.”
“Samantha Kennedy of the Kennedy Kennedys?” Noelle raised her eyebrows.
Riley nodded. “It’s going to be a high profile case.”
Noelle whistled. “I can imagine. Who’s going to head that one up?”
Riley’s grin surprised her. “You.”
Noelle stared at him. “You’re joking.”
Riley shook his head. “I’m not.”
“But I’m - me.” Noelle waved a hand to encompass herself, female, widow, and all.
Riley shrugged. “I talked Ty into giving you a shot. You cracked the Hawkins case, you’re developing good, solid leads on your current cases. You’ve solved half of the cold cases you’ve taken - which is impressive, and you know it.”
“But I’m not nearly good enough for a high profile case like this.” Noelle was still in shock.
“You’ll have me on it as your partner.” Riley smiled.
“You’re taking all the photography bits.” Noelle wiggled a hand at him. “You have a much better profile than I do.”
Riley rolled his eyes, but Noelle could tell she had him. “Trying to keep your name and reputation out of the papers?” he said, his voice kind.
Noelle didn’t look at him. “After the trial -” she stopped herself, swallowed. Then started again. “I don’t want that to happen again.” She shrugged.
“You can’t be a detective if you refuse to take lead on cases,” Riley said gently.
“I want to take lead,” Noelle said. “I want to become one of the best detectives this department’s ever had.” She lifted her chin, stubbornness fueling her.
