Jill Elizabeth Nelson

Calculated Revenge


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Sheriff Lindoll. The man’s remarks and reactions today suddenly made perfect sense. And somewhere along the trail of Noah’s career as an investigator, he and Agent Burns had clearly locked horns.

      Finally, Laney rose and stretched, but she wore a smile on her face. Hope had gained ascendancy over fear. She’d found an answer that couldn’t be more clearly from God if He’d etched the message on her forehead.

      Whatever it took, whatever it cost, she was going to hire Noah/Franklin Ryder to find the monster that killed Gracie and threatened Briana.

      Well before time for school to start, Noah sat in his office on Friday morning going over his notes about yesterday’s incident. Why did he write these things down anyway? And why couldn’t he put the notes away and concentrate on school business? Old habits died hard, but then, he was responsible for the safety of everyone in this school. As long as he kept that motive in the forefront, he’d be all right.

      A rap sounded on his door. “It’s open,” he called. Probably Miss Aggie, miffed to discover he’d arrived ahead of her. But his visitor was most decidedly not his angular administrative assistant. The slender female in form-fitting jeans and a tailored aqua blouse walked toward his desk, and his mouth went dry. “Laney? What are you doing here?”

      “I’m a desperate woman in need of your expertise.” She laid a small stack of news reports printed off the Internet in front of him.

      Noah’s heart leaped against his ribs. He kept his gaze averted as he forced his composure back into place. Finally, he allowed himself to look up. Laney’s pleading blue eyes clawed at his resolve. He pushed the papers back toward her. “What’s all this about?”

      Her nostrils flared. “I called Sheriff Lindoll this morning and asked him about these.”

      Noah groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face.

      “Here’s what he said,” she continued. “I quote. ‘I’m not going to deny your research, Ms. Thompson. If it is him, it’d be great to have someone in on the action who can tweak those federal guys’ noses.’” She planted her palms on his desk and leaned toward him, bringing their faces inches apart. “You can tweak noses or cut them off for all I care, as long as you catch a child killer. I can pay you whatever you want…or my dad can, at least.”

      Noah leaned back in his chair, gaining distance. “I can’t do that anymore.” Each word came out clipped and razor-thin.

      Laney drew herself up tall. “Your real name is Franklin Ryder. You’re an ace investigator. What do you mean you can’t do what you’re so great at doing?”

      He shook his head. “My real name is Noah Franklin Ryder, Jr. To differentiate between me and my dad, I grew up being called Franklin. By the time I quit the P.I. business my dad had passed on, so I reverted to Noah and embarked on a new career. I love being a school principal, and I meant what I said. I can’t go back to what I did before.”

      “Can’t or won’t.”

      “Both.”

      Something deflated in the woman before him, and the sight cut deep. She sank into a chair. “Why not?”

      “I’m not too proud to admit that I’m washed up as an investigator.” He frowned and studied his desktop, pain surging through him. “Something happened half a dozen years back.”

      “When the news articles about you ceased.”

      “That’d be the time. Look,” he squared his gaze with hers, “I won’t go into detail, but the wheels came off on an investigation and an innocent person died.”

      “Was it your fault?’

      “I ask myself that every day.”

      A wounded laugh bubbled from her throat. “Join the club. I ask myself the same thing about Gracie.”

      Noah leaned his elbows on his desk and studied the woman before him. “Why would her death be your fault?”

      Her gaze fell away. “I was the big sister, the protector. I was supposed to walk Gracie all the way home from school that day. Instead, I went as far as our home block, then I ran off with my friends to play. I figured she could make it the rest of the way by herself. I was wrong.” She lifted her head, cheeks whitewashed. “It was my birthday. I wanted to have some fun, and my fun cost my sister her life. What a selfish little fool!”

      “Aw, Laney.” Noah reached a hand across the desk, though it couldn’t reach far enough to touch her. “You have no idea how many times I’ve heard stories like that from family members looking for someone to blame. Quite often themselves. One moment of common carelessness ends in tragedy, and people can’t forgive themselves for being human. You were just a kid being a kid.”

      Laney’s hard expression shattered, and she sobbed. “I hope…” she hiccupped “…one day…I can believe that.” Tears made twin tracks down her cheeks.

      Blinking away the sting behind his eyes, Noah grabbed a tissue from the box on his credenza. He came around his desk and handed it to her. She took the tissue and scrubbed as if she would wipe away memories.

      “I hope you take those words to heart. They’re true.” Noah laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hard-won truths like that are the best I can offer. Please keep your knowledge about my former business name and occupation to yourself. Investigating is not in me anymore.”

      She stared up at him. “You’re wrong. A gift like that doesn’t just go away. If you can lie to yourself so completely, how can I be sure you’re not telling me a pretty story, too?” She shrugged off his hand, then rose like a grand diva and stalked from the room.

      Noah watched her leave, every thought frozen in his brain. A few moments later, he shook himself. Her statement was ridiculous. He wasn’t lying about being washed up. She didn’t know what she was talking about. How could she? She wasn’t there when it all went down.

      The sound of drawers opening and closing in the outer office signaled that Miss Aggie had arrived. Had she encountered the irate Laney Thompson? Noah stepped into the reception area. One look at his secretary’s face told him what he needed to know.

      “You are going to help that poor girl?” Miss Aggie pronounced.

      “But—”

      “No excuses, young man.” She shook a finger at him and turned away.

      Noah retreated into his sanctuary. What did Miss Aggie know about him? How did she find out? The same way Laney did?

      He plopped down behind his desk and put his head in his hands. Lord, how can I take the chance again? But how could he live with himself if something bad happened to either Laney or Briana because he didn’t get involved? He slumped against his chair and tilted his head back, scrubbing his cheeks with his palms. Then again, how could he survive if he did take the case, and the worst happened anyway?

      The miserable morning passed like an ant crawling across hot coals. Most of those coals were hidden behind Miss Aggie’s silent stares. Near noon, he escaped to help supervise the early recess. Some of the adult workers seemed subdued after yesterday, but if anything, the children were more boisterous and active. Noah kept busy making sure they used the equipment safely and respected each other’s boundaries, but he didn’t forget to push the swings and give rides on the merry-go-round.

      Laughing, Noah drifted toward the fence to take a break and observe the whole playground. A figure in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head and froze.

      A short, burly man in a business suit stood in a shadowed spot near the fence. Hands fisting and flexing, his gaze devoured one specific cluster of giggling little girls.

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