Who was this man? she asked herself. He was nothing like she remembered.
Noah shrugged and failed to hide his smile. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I want you to have a fresh start.”
“You didn’t need to go to so much trouble.”
“I wanted to. And it was no trouble. I like spending time in the kitchen, and I like cooking for you.”
Sophia still couldn’t believe that Noah was standing in her kitchen, spatula in hand, and they were having a normal conversation. Yet there he stood, looking incredibly pleased with himself for surprising her.
She studied him surreptitiously as she took a plate and filled it. He was wearing a new gray suit, which he apparently kept in his car for times when he didn’t make it home. His navy tie accented the sea-blue color of his eyes. His chiseled cheekbones and strong chin complemented his law enforcement persona to a tee, and his brow was expressive as it flashed between compassion and determination, depending upon the need.
He’d also brought a toiletry bag in from his car, but he’d been so busy cooking he hadn’t yet had time to shave. She was secretly glad, particularly since she found the dark shadow on his face roguishly appealing. She had to admit he had grown into one good-looking man. Yet even so, whenever she looked at him, she felt conflicted. He was helping her now, yet it was so hard to forget the past and erase the hurt he had caused.
In high school, after she had repeatedly refused to go out with him, he had started playing embarrassing tricks on her and derailing her studies. The pranks had been harmless enough in the beginning.
He’d once had a pizza delivered to her in her homeroom class. He’d also had roses sent to her swim class complete with a singing telegram. A month later, he’d filled her locker with Ping-Pong balls so that when she opened it, the balls bounced all over the hallway. He’d stuffed her car with balloons and then wrapped it in Saran Wrap. When that hadn’t triggered a rise from her, and she still refused his advances, the tricks had turned from harmless fun to humiliation.
She’d finally had enough when he’d put peanut butter under her car door handles and Vaseline on her windshield wipers. The sticky mess on her hands had been bad enough, but the petroleum jelly on her windshield had made it so hard to see that she’d almost had an accident before she’d been able to pull over and clean it all off.
She’d confronted him after the incident, but he’d been totally unrepentant. In fact, he had teased her about her driving in front of a large group of their classmates. For weeks afterward, she found jars of peanut butter and petroleum jelly everywhere she went. On her desk. In her gym locker. In her backpack. Kids could be cruel in high school, and the comments had turned offensive and nasty as the school year went on. She had become the butt of countless jokes, and Noah had joined in and egged others on. His words had been the most painful of all.
Now Sophia looked into his sea-blue eyes and saw caring and kindness in his expression, not the rowdy teenager that she remembered. She wasn’t interested in a relationship with the man, but maybe it was time to put the past in the past and to let go of the pain he had caused her. After all, they were adults now. Could they actually be friends again? She wondered if such a thing was even possible.
They sat at the kitchen table and, after a short prayer, dug into the fabulous breakfast he had prepared.
“This is wonderful of you. You really didn’t have to do all this,” she said softly after taking a few bites.
Noah shrugged. “I wanted to. We didn’t get here until two this morning, and I wanted to give you a chance to rest a little longer before we headed out. You can’t help Kylie if you wear yourself out.”
“Well, thank you.” She took a sip of her juice. “Are you feeling okay after yesterday? You breathed that gas, too.”
He nodded. “My throat hurts a little, and I’m a bit tired, but it will pass.” He poured some syrup on his waffle. “I want to start at the park today to show you the crime scene, since we didn’t get to do that yesterday. I have to be at the courthouse at eleven, but before that, we can also check in with everybody and see what the lab found.” He took a bite, chewed and swallowed. “I just talked to Sergeant Kittinger at Flint Rock a little while ago. He didn’t have anything new to report, but he said he is pursuing the investigation at top speed and his whole team is searching for Kylie. He claims finding her is his number one priority.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Claims? That’s a funny word to use. You don’t believe him?”
Noah paused before taking another bite. “I’m not sure. He seems sincere, but there was something about his voice... It’s probably nothing. Just my suspicious nature mixing with that gas attack in the basement yesterday. That was definitely no accident. Someone tampered with the gas lines leading into that room after locking us in.”
“Who had access?”
He shrugged. “Just about anybody. The detectives found the door unlocked. They checked for fingerprints but didn’t find any. Whoever damaged the lines probably wore gloves.”
Sophia put down her fork. “It sounds like someone wants to stop us from reinvestigating. Should we go to Flint Rock and look for Kylie instead of trying to free Prensky? I’ve been wondering all along if we shouldn’t have started with trying to find her instead of looking into the case again, but I was hoping that by complying with the kidnapper’s demands, Kylie would stand a better chance of surviving this mess.”
“I think we should keep working on the case here in Atlanta, like we planned. Sergeant Kittinger is handling the Flint Rock investigation, and it’s clear the kidnapper is watching you—or has somebody watching you. I saw a suspicious car following us on our way over to the university yesterday, and last night, I noticed a woman at the hospital who gave me some concern. She disappeared before I could confront her, though. Even if both events were innocent, until we know more, it makes sense to focus on the kidnapper’s demands so it appears like we’re complying.”
Sophia frowned and sat back in her chair. “You didn’t want to tell me about the car or the woman at the hospital earlier? That seems like pretty important information. I thought we were working this case together.”
“We are,” Noah quickly assured her. He apparently noticed her expression and backpedaled. “I’m sorry. You’re right—I should have told you sooner. I just didn’t want to make you any more worried than you already were, but now I see that I was wrong. From here on in, if I see something that concerns me, I’ll share it. I promise.” He nodded toward her fork. “You really need to eat more. You’ll need your strength to investigate this case, and Kylie would want you to take care of yourself.”
Mollified, Sophia let him change the subject. She wanted to argue further, but he had already apologized, and there was nothing more to say. She also knew that he was right about eating a good breakfast. It wouldn’t do any of them any good if she didn’t get proper rest and nourishment, even though the last thing she felt like doing was sitting down to a meal. She felt a touch of nausea, but wasn’t sure if it was a result of her lung injury or her worry for her sister. Still, she pushed the feelings aside and ate what she could. She finished quickly, then put the leftovers in the fridge, dressed for the day in gray slacks and a navy button-down shirt, and met Noah by the door. She glanced at her watch. Nine fifteen.
Hopefully, before this day was over, Kylie would be safely home, ready to complete her spring break plans, and this nightmare would be behind her.
SIX
“Detective, who murdered Maggie Spencer?” The attorney stopped right in front of Noah, making sure he could clearly see and point to the defendant. The lawyer’s body language punctuated her words.
“Arlo Prensky. He’s the man in the navy jacket, sitting at the defense’s table.”
The prosecutor turned and looked over at the jury, slowly making eye contact with each of them, giving them all time to absorb Noah’s words. “Your Hono
r, please have the record reflect that Detective Bradley is pointing to Arlo Prensky, the defendant.”
“It will so reflect.”
The attorney continued. “And why are you so sure that you have arrested the correct perpetrator?”
Sophia leaned a bit to the left so she could have a good view of the jury. They were all watching Noah closely as he testified, and they were genuinely hanging on his every word. She glanced back up at Noah from her seat near the back of the courtroom. She had to admit, he exuded authority.
After breakfast, they’d gone over to the crime scene and walked through what the police had discovered, and then come straight to the court for him to testify. There hadn’t been much to see at the park anyway—no longer an active crime scene, the yellow crime tape had been removed long ago. Still, just knowing a young woman had lost her life at that spot had moved them both.
Sophia watched as Noah continued, his voice grim.
“We found Mr. Prensky’s DNA at the scene. Ms. Spencer fought back against her attacker and scratched his arms and hands. When we arrested Mr. Prensky, he had matching scratches on his hands and arms. We also found Mr. Prensky’s blood on Ms. Spencer’s legs from where he’d grabbed her ankles to drag her body after the murder. Blood was also on Ms. Spencer’s head near the wounds she sustained and under her fingernails, along with skin cells from the scratches.”
“And how do you know it was Mr. Prensky’s DNA you found at the crime scene?”
“The medical examiner tested the DNA, matched it to Mr. Prensky’s DNA already in the system and reported the match to our office.”
A murmur arose through the gallery as members of the audience commented among themselves while the prosecutor crossed back to her table and picked up a document. “I’m showing the court the medical examiner’s report previously accepted into evidence as the state’s Exhibit A-5.”
“No objection,” the defense attorney stated in a monotone voice.
“Is this the report you are referring to?” the prosecutor asked, showing him the report.
“Yes, that’s the one,” Noah replied.
“Did you interview Mr. Prensky?”
“Yes. After the arrest, we performed several interviews.”
“How many is ‘several,’ Detective?”
“We spoke to Mr. Prensky on four separate occasions.”
“And during those four occasions, did Mr. Prensky ever provide an alibi for the time in question?”
Sophia looked over at Prensky, who spent his time smiling at his supporters and glaring at Noah from the defense’s table. The man had a look of pure hatred in his eyes, the anger seeming to radiate from him in waves as Noah testified.
“He claimed to be at home alone, but we couldn’t find anyone to corroborate that.”
“He was home alone!” a voice suddenly yelled from the gallery of the courtroom. A man stood and fisted his hand above his head. He was large, had an overgrown beard, dark, unfriendly eyes, and his hair was pulled back in an unruly ponytail. He was wearing jeans and a faded T-shirt that proclaimed Sal’s Pizza was the best in the Atlanta metro area. There was a large stain near the left shoulder. Sophia didn’t recognize him, but his facial features proclaimed a biological relationship to the defendant. Was he a brother? A cousin? She couldn’t tell.
“You have the wrong man!” the man continued. “He doesn’t need an alibi because he’s innocent!”
“That’s right!” another man agreed. He stood and added his voice to the stained-shirt pizza lover standing next to him. This man was older than the first, but although he was better dressed and wearing new jeans and a white dress shirt, the anger and frustration in his eyes matched the first man’s expression. “Prensky is innocent!”
“Order!” the judge said loudly as he banged his gavel. “Gentlemen, you will both sit down and be quiet or you will leave the courtroom.”
“How can I sit here and watch you railroad an innocent man?” the first man asked.
The bailiff reached the first protester, took him by the arm and started leading him toward the exit at the back of the room. The man took one step, then another, before pulling his arm free and turning back to the judge.
“Arlo Prensky is innocent!” he yelled again. This time his voice was joined by a chorus of several others in the gallery who were sitting behind Arlo’s defense table. Three women stood and joined the two men, and soon they were all shaking their fists and yelling at the judge. Next, two young men stood and joined the fray, as well.
“You’ll be sorry you lied!” one yelled at Noah, pointing his finger at him. “I’ll teach you not to lie!”
“Yeah, you’ll be sorry!” another joined in.
A cacophony of shouting and shuffling ensued as five new bailiffs entered the courtroom from the hallway and started trying to calm the crowd. A grin split Arlo’s face as his supporters yelled at the judge, the witness and the bailiffs. Handcuffs came out, and it took the law enforcement officers a good ten minutes to remove the protesters and bring the room back under control. Only the man in the white shirt and a couple of the other Prensky supporters were left once the bailiffs were finished, and the judge admonished the remaining few with a short speech full of reproach.
Finally, the prosecutor was able to repeat her question and continue the trial. “Detective Bradley, did Mr. Prensky have an alibi for the night Maggie Spencer was murdered?”
“He claimed he was home alone.”
“And was he?”
“We couldn’t confirm his whereabouts—except for the fact that his DNA was found on Ms. Spencer’s body.”
“No more questions,” the prosecutor stated as she went back and sat behind her table.
The defense attorney stood and approached Noah, who was still sitting in the witness stand. “Officer Bradley...”
“I’m a detective,” Noah corrected.
“Ah, that’s right. Okay. Detective Bradley...” he droned, his voice holding a touch of mockery.
“When you questioned Mr. Prensky, did he tell you why he had those marks on his hands and arms?”
Noah nodded. “He claimed that he had been working on a landscape job and sustained the injuries working with plants.”
“Did anyone he did landscape work with corroborate that explanation for his injuries?”
“We talked to his supervisor, who confirmed he had been working with roses and palm trees.”
“Could those plants have caused the scratches on my client’s arms and hands?”
“Sure,” Noah agreed. He turned to the jury and made eye contact with them once again. When he spoke, his words were succinct. “But like I said before, that can’t explain why Mr. Prensky’s DNA was at the crime scene or on Ms. Spencer’s body.”
* * *
“Did you see that man?” Sophia demanded as soon as they had left the courtroom and the door closed behind them. Her eyes were spitting fire and had turned a golden brown as the anger consumed her.
Noah took her arm and gently led her away from the courtroom entrance so their voices wouldn’t disturb anyone. “Who? There were lots of men in there. And women.”
He’d been surprised by the number of people watching the trial. The majority of them seemed to be university students from Atlanta State, based on their clothing and youth, but the gallery had held a fair share of Prensky’s personal supporters, as well. Since most criminal trials were open to the public in Georgia, and this case had been well publicized, maybe Noah shouldn’t have been so surprised.
He had also seen a woman seated on Prensky’s side of the courtroom whom he’d recognized from the hospital. He was sure of it now—the woman was definitely following them. She had been one of the people the bailiff had removed during his testimony, though, so she was probably long gone. He glanced around surreptitiously and confirmed that she was not among the bystanders mil
ling around the doors to the courtroom. He should tell Sophia, but once again, he hesitated. She had so much on her plate already, and he really hated to heap on more stress and anxiety.
He dragged his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, glad that his part of the trial was over. He wasn’t a big fan of testifying. He preferred the investigative duty of his job, but it was all part and parcel of the same goal: putting away the bad guys and getting them off the streets before they hurt anybody else.
During his testimony, he’d seen Maggie’s parents in the gallery, as well. They’d been sitting in the first row, right behind the prosecutor’s table, their hands tightly linked as the evidence of Maggie’s last days on earth played out in front of them. It had been Noah’s job to deliver the death notice to them as the lead case investigator. That was not an easy chore, and it was definitely one aspect of his job that he truly hated. He knew that after he told a victim’s family the news, their lives would never again be the same. Now, at this stage of the case, it had been hard to watch them suffer even further as they’d listened to the details that emerged during the trial.
He stopped his woolgathering and turned his attention back to Sophia. “What did the man you saw look like?”
She glanced over his shoulder as if trying to spot the man in the hallway, but when she saw there were only a few people milling around, she turned back to him. The people who had disrupted the trial had undoubtedly been escorted from the building, but he thought she was probably still checking to make sure she was safe.
“He was about six feet tall, with sandy brown hair that’s graying at the temples and hazel eyes. Midfifties, if I had to guess. He had a small scar on his cheek here.” She drew her finger down her cheek on the right side. “And he was wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt.”
“I’m sorry, but I really didn’t notice him. I was concentrating on my testimony. What about him?”
“He was staring at me the entire time I was sitting in the gallery. I...I think he had something to do with Kylie’s kidnapping.”
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