Page 37 of Hunting Justice
A black button lay next to the phone that had broken apart when it hit the floor.
She released her bleeding arm, wiped the blood on her pant leg, and picked the item up with her thumb and finger.
“What is it?” Jonah leaned in for a better look.
That’s how the killer knew. She closed her eyes for a second and exhaled. Then she nudged Jonah and held her finger to her lips.
His forehead scrunched, and he tilted his head.
A listening device. He bugged the phone, she mouthed.
Jonah pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand and slammed his fist on the floor with the other.
The turmoil evident in his features made her heart ache for the man.
A year ago, she would’ve wanted to give him a hug and be the friend that he needed. Today…things had fundamentally changed. She had a strong desire to wrap him in her arms and make his pain disappear. To be there for him beyond friendship.
Tears clouded her vision. But that wasn’t possible. Was it?
* * *
Jonah had taken the tiny listening device from Noelle and placed it on the desk for the police to take into evidence, then led her out of the room and into autopsy two. He pulled over two chairs and eased her onto one while he took the other. The seriousness of the situation made his nerves hum with the familiar sensation of not being able to sit in his own skin. He or Noelle could have been lying on a metal table right now instead of using the room for refuge.
“When do you think the killer planted the bug?”
Noelle continued to put pressure on the bullet wound. “I’m not sure. If I had to guess, I’d say whoever placed it there did it while Ken was alive, to spy on him.”
“That makes sense.” He scooted his chair forward to examine her wound. “We’re going to have to tell Matt and Decia, aren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Not even going to think about it?” He raised a brow.
She lifted her shoulder and grimaced. “You know as well as I do we can’t wait any longer.”
“I wish we had more details. I hate what this will do to Ken’s reputation. And it’s all based on a vague confession over the phone.” He blew out a long breath. “Time to take a look.” He removed her hand from her upper arm and froze. The blood-soaked sleeve sent his mind spiraling into the past.
“Jonah. You look a little green. Is it that bad?” She glanced at the tear in her shirt.
“No. Sorry.” He shook his head, dislodging the horrible memory. “Blood sometimes gets to me. But I’m good.” One of the main reasons he no longer worked in the ER. The other reason—his failure to save the person he loved most in the world.
“Doc!”
He leaned toward the door. “In room two, Bonnie!”
Bonnie hurried in and placed the box on the desk beside him. “Police are on the way along with an ambulance. There’s the first-aid kit. Anything else?”
“No, that’s all. Thanks.”
The woman nodded and hurried out.
“Now that we’ve established I’m not the ER doctor I used to be, I’ll do my best until the paramedics get here.” He dug through the box and retrieved the scissors.
“No!” She jerked away.
“Elle.” Jonah stared at her, then it dawned on him. The serial killer’s lasting gift. The scars from multiple cuts during her captivity. “It’s okay, Elle. I’ve seen a lot of things during my years as a doctor.” He had no intention of downplaying her experience, but he wanted her to know that he wouldn’t judge her. “Besides, it’s not a secret anymore. At least, not with me.”
She scowled at him. “Fine.”