Page 81 of Hunting Justice

Jonah’s breath hitched. “But how is that possible? That guy was, what? Late twenties? He would’ve been in his teens when he abducted you.”

“It’s not possible.” Noelle let her gaze dart from Jonah to Juliette and back. “But yet, somehow it is.”

SEVENTEEN

WEDNESDAY, 3:00 P.M.

One would think that the antiseptic odors of the hospital wouldn’t bother Jonah. But they would be wrong. Somewhere in the plastic bag near the exam table were his possessions, including his ruined shirt. They should have just thrown the thing away. He dropped his arm over his eyes. The fluorescent lights of the emergency room bay the paramedics had landed him in buzzed like a hive of bees. The white curtain that provided privacy—closed. At least everyone couldn’t see him brood. Small favors and all that.

He hated being on the other side of the stethoscope. His old coworker and smart-aleck friend Dr. Walden had cleaned the knife wound and stitched him up. The man had lectured him to be more careful, told him to lie still for a bit, and left him waiting for the discharge papers.

Yeah, right. Lie here and do nothing. No way. Jonah rolled to his side and pushed up to a seated position. The paper on the bed crinkled beneath him. He reached for the scrubs shirt the nurse had left on the small table and winced. The world spun. He gripped the edge of the bed.

“Whoa there, cowboy.” Noelle strode in. “Let me help.”

He wanted to assure her that he was perfectly capable of dressing himself, but in truth, he needed her. “Thanks.”

Her eyebrow arched. “No complaining?”

“Not today.” The crease in her forehead had him hurrying to explain. “I’m fine, and if you don’t believe me, you can ask Dr. Walden. But my side hurts anytime I move, so I’d appreciate it if you’d hand me that shirt.” He pointed to the light-green top.

She studied him a moment, then nodded. “I can do one better.” Noelle slipped the shirt over his head and held it out for him to slide his arms in, then pulled it down over his torso.

“I feel like a two-year-old,” he grumbled.

“Well, sometimes you act like one.” She flashed him a cheesy smile.

“Everyone decent?” Decia popped her head around the white curtain.

“And what if I had said no?” Jonah shook his head and sighed. So much for privacy. “I’m good.” He shifted to stand and Noelle held out her hand. He considered ignoring her, but common sense took over. He’d been horizontal for a while, and between that and the blood loss, he had to be careful with dizziness.

Noelle waited for him to find his balance. “Good?”

“Yup.” He turned toward Decia. “What’s going on?”

“Think you can snag us a conference room? Matt’s working on your Richard Nelson lead from the tattoo shop, but Alana and Juliette are here. We’d like to hear directly from you what happened today.”

“I’ll go work my magic.” He took a couple of tentative steps, confirming he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

“More like throw your weight around,” Noelle teased.

“Har har, very funny.” He moved past Decia and headed out to find an old coworker.

Five minutes and a promise to visit the hospital staff more often later, he ushered the women into a conference room on the next floor up and flipped on the light.

“Have a seat.” He chose a seat near the door and lowered himself onto a cushy office chair.

Alana and Juliette sat across from him, Decia at the head of the table, and Noelle beside him.

“This is perfect. Thanks, Doc.” Decia set her notebook in front of her. “I’ve read the report, but give us a quick rundown of the events.”

Noelle spoke before he’d collected his thoughts. “As you know, we had brunch at the Southern Café near the Colonial Park Cemetery.” She explained the attack and her subsequent pursuit of the assailant.

He sat stunned as she told them about chasing the attacker through the graves.

“Then he jumped on the trolley. The passengers thought it was part of the act. The driver slammed on the brakes, which made the attacker stumble and lose his sunglasses.” Noelle’s breath hitched. “His eyes. I’d seen those eyes before.”

“Where?” Even though Decia had already heard Noelle’s account of what’d happened, she asked anyway.