Page 31 of Hunting Justice
“I agree. It gives us a jumping off point.”
He turned the book to February. Jonah sucked in a breath, unprepared for his reaction to Ken’s handwriting. “It’s hard to believe he’s gone.”
Noelle stayed silent while he pulled himself together.
Meetings filled several dates during February, along with Ken’s autopsy schedule. Plus, a couple of doctor’s appointments were thrown in. Jonah changed the angle to read the haphazard writing. Something about the notes scribbled in the margins gave him pause.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure.” Jonah pointed to the numbers. “They aren’t case numbers. Or at least, I don’t think so.”
She tapped one of the notations. “They’re too long and not the right coding for police reports.”
“There’s two here.” He flipped to January. “One here.”
“Check the other months.”
He looked through the planner, focusing on the notes in the margin. After discovering one or two each month, Jonah lifted his gaze to Noelle. “What do you think?”
“Looks like we found a possible connection. But we’ll have to figure out what the numbers mean to confirm that suspicion.” The timer went off in the kitchen. “Soup’s done. Bring the planner, let’s eat.”
Noelle left him sitting on the couch.
The savory aroma reminded him of his childhood home. His mother hadn’t been able to cook anything edible, but his father could have outcooked the best five-star-restaurant chef any day.
He stood and ambled to the kitchen table, mulling over the codes in his head. “So, instead of figuring out what the numbers mean, since it’s giving me a headache, what about working on where to find the information we need?”
“You knew Ken best.” She stirred the soup, then ladled some into two bowls.
“I thought I did.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But apparently not as well as I believed.”
“Don’t do that. You and Ken were friends. Sometimes people don’t want to burden their friends with the depressing parts of their lives.” Noelle set the bowls on the table along with spoons and napkins.
“Isn’t that what friendship is? Standing beside each other in good and bad?” Jonah picked up his spoon but didn’t break eye contact with her.
She arched an eyebrow. “We’re friends, right?”
“Good ones.”
“We don’t have secrets? Things we haven’t told each other?”
He studied her for a moment. Oh, they both had hidden events in their pasts that neither wanted to share. “You have a point.”
“The Ken I knew was a good guy. He probably got in over his head and didn’t want to bring you into his troubles.”
“In the end…he did.” Stage two of grief had hit Jonah. He was angry with Ken and wanted to rail on the man for being stupid. Ugh. Only three more stages to go. Assuming he didn’t get stuck in one.
For the next several minutes, they ate in companionable silence. He, lost in his thoughts; Noelle—he had no idea where her brain had gone, but by the look in her eyes, somewhere dark.
After placing her spoon next to her bowl, she clasped her hands on the table. “Where would Ken hide documents?”
“I have no idea.”
“Yes, you do. Think. If he had information that he had no intention of sharing but wanted to keep for security purposes, where would he put it?”
The impossible question rolled around in his brain. He knew Noelle hadn’t asked to be cruel. She was convinced that Jonah had the ability to figure it out. “His desk drawers are out. Too obvious and too neat to hide anything. I’d say maybe his file cabinet but in disguise. Like hiding in plain sight.”
“That’s a good possibility. Keep going.”