Page 7 of Hunting Justice
His shaky tone registered. “What’s wrong?”
“Ken’s gone.”
She straightened. “What do you mean? As in, he left town?”
“No, Elle. Ken’s dead. Someone blew up his house.”
She stumbled to her desk and dropped onto her office chair. “How? Why?”
“That’s the thing. He asked me to come over to discuss a…” She heard him exhale. “…problem. I got delayed at work and arrived a few moments before his house exploded.”
“Are you hurt? What can I do?” Jonah was a good friend. Probably the closest she’d ever get to a boyfriend. She hated hearing the pain in his voice.
“I have scrapes and bruises plus a mild concussion. But more than anything, I could use a ride. My SUV is damaged. And with the head injury, I shouldn’t be driving.”
She could relate. A year ago, she’d suffered a concussion that’d sidelined her for weeks. “Where are you?” Noelle hurried to her room and threw on a three-quarter-sleeve blouse over her tank top. She rushed to the entryway and grabbed her keys.
“I’m still at Ken’s. I couldn’t leave.”
“Stay put. I’m on my way.” She dashed out the door.
“Thanks, Elle. I hate to admit it, but I’m a bit lost as to what to do.”
The fact he’d declared his mental state spoke of the trust he placed in her. If only she could return the sentiment. On most things she had trusted him, but her time in the hands of a serial killer—not so much.
“Hang tough, Jonah. I’ll get you through this.”
“I’ll be waiting.” He hung up.
There was more to the story than Jonah had divulged over the phone. She knew it down to the marrow of her bones. And she intended to find out what. Noelle hit the speed dial for Juliette.
“Hi, Noelle. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”
“Not happening at the moment. Jonah called. He said he’s hurt, and Ken Dodson’s house blew up.”
“Is Ken okay?”
“He’s dead.”
Juliette’s sharp inhale came over the line. “What do you need from us?”
“Nothing right now, but that might change. I’m headed over to check on Jonah and find out what’s up.”
“I’m sorry to hear about Ken. But I find it fascinating that Jonah contacted you first.”
Noelle knew where that statement was going. “We’re just friends.”
“Sure, keep telling yourself that. The way he cared for you after he beaned you in the head with the line drive during that softball game—nope, not buying it.”
“Friends, Juliette. That’s all we’ll ever be. I’ll let you know what I find out.”
“I’ll let Alana know. We’ll be waiting.”
“Thanks.” Noelle hung up and focused on getting to Jonah as fast as possible.
Twenty minutes later, she parked at the end of Ken’s street. Fire trucks and police cars blocked her from getting closer. Red and blue lights flashed in a steady tempo. Yellow police tape looped the yard, blocking civilians from entering.
She ducked under the ribbon and flashed her special law enforcement credentials at the patrol officer guarding the scene.