Page 24

Six months before Derrick Bell’s murder

“We need to go!” Derrick stood at the front door, eyeing his watch as Noelle scrambled to find her phone and grab her purse.

Twenty minutes ago he’d told her about the fundraiser, but he claimed he’d told her a week ago.

She’d been fresh from a sweaty run and pointed out it wasn’t on their joint calendar.

His reply was that she must have deleted it.

His tone implied she’d done it on purpose.

Noelle had bitten her tongue and rushed to the shower, cursing his assistant.

Jon was excellent about sending her event reminders; she didn’t know what’d gone wrong this time.

There was no time to wash her hair, so she sprayed it with a good-smelling dry shampoo and rubbed it into her scalp, then yanked her hair back into a high ponytail.

She threw on a simple dress and high heels, put on some earrings, and grabbed a set of bracelets.

She caught her reflection in the mirror.

“Fuck.” She’d completely forgotten makeup.

She shoved some in a small makeup bag, intending to apply it in the car, and hoped Derrick didn’t expect her to drive. Sometimes he did when he needed to review a speech en route. She found her phone and darted toward the front door, her heels clicking a staccato.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” he asked.

She froze and looked down at the expensive dress. “When your mother picked it out, she said it’s perfect for this type of event.”

He yanked open the front door and strode out before her.

Jerk.

She locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief that he was headed toward the driver’s door of his Mercedes.

It’d taken a year of marriage to learn that invoking his mother’s name when he questioned her decisions made him immediately back off.

But one time he’d asked his mother about an artwork decision and learned that Noelle had lied.

His fury—and his mother’s—made him give her the cold shoulder for three days.

After that she always reached out for Catherine’s opinion on things she knew Derrick would challenge.

In fact it had gotten to the point where she asked Catherine about almost every piece of clothing or decor for the house. It simply made life easier.

Derrick hadn’t opened her car door as he usually did, and Noelle knew it was a punishment. After she opened it, she waited as he brushed what looked like powdered sugar off her seat, surprising her. He had a firm rule about no eating or drinking in his car.

What is going on?

She silently slid into the car and flipped down the mirror to apply her eyeliner. He backed out of the driveway too fast, and she grabbed the door for balance.

She said nothing.

“It’s just like you to forget something like this,” he finally said, ten minutes down the road.

“I’m sorry. At least we’ll be there on time.”

“It makes me feel like you don’t care about what I do.”

“You know how important your position is to me.”

“Then you need to act like it is.”

She focused on applying her lipstick, and her grandfather’s words from last week echoed in her head.

Her grandfather had cornered her at a family dinner, a gruff look in his eyes. Derrick had been working late and unable to attend.

“You’re too thin,” he’d said flatly.

She’d looked past him at Lucia and Eve arguing about whether the steaks on the grill were finished.

“I started a new workout class,” she lied.

“It’s really intense but has done amazing things for my muscle tone.

” She lifted a foot and flexed her calf for him, hoping some definition would appear.

“I haven’t increased my calorie intake, but maybe I should.

I’ve noticed I’ve felt hungrier lately.”

Actually she’d had no appetite lately.

“Yes, you should eat more,” he’d told her.

“Maybe ice cream every night.” He jerked his head toward her sisters.

“Those two look up to you. I’ve noticed they copy your clothes and hairstyles.

Last week I caught Lucia vomiting after dinner.

She looked like crap. Pale and sweaty and shaking.

She said something hadn’t sat right in her stomach, but it made me wonder. ”

“You only noticed it once? Are you worried about bulimia?” Alarm had shot through Noelle, and she’d taken a critical look at her sister’s physique.

Lucia had looked thin, and there were faint purple crescents under her eyes.

But she was bubbly and vivacious as ever.

“I’ll talk to her. I’ll ask Eve if she’s noticed anything. ”

“Eve and Adam come around a lot more than you do,” he’d pointed out. This was his way of indirectly stating that he wanted to see her more. “Starting to feel like Adam’s taken your spot in this family.”

Noelle had forced a smile, but inside she was crying.

“He’s a qualified substitute. I’m glad Eve married him.

I can tell he cares about Lucia and the rest of you.

” She’d rubbed her grandfather’s arm. “I’ll do my best to get here at least once a week.

” Noelle squeezed his bicep. “What’s this?

You been hitting the gym?” The bulk under her hand had surprised her.

He’d lifted his chin. “Damn right. I read somewhere that people my age lose muscle mass if they don’t use it within two days.

Got me fired up and using the bench in the garage.

” He scowled. “You’re just trying to distract me.

Eat more. Check in with Lucia. I’ve been watching her like a hawk after every meal, but I’ve only caught her that one time in the bathroom. ”

“It’s probably nothing, then,” Noelle had said.

“But I’ll find out.” Guilt had shot through her.

She’d been distracted trying to be the perfect hostess for all the dinner parties Derrick had started to schedule at their home.

He expected the right wine, perfect food, and an impressive layout of their dishes and decor.

Noelle had suggested a caterer, and he’d just stared at her.

“You can’t make a dinner for more than the two of us?

My mom does it all the time without any help. ”

Noelle didn’t dare point out that his mom used two women who cooked and cleaned the home for those meals.

Catherine was really good at hiding it. Noelle only knew because she’d shown up early for one party, intending to help poor overworked Catherine.

Instead, she found her in the kitchen with a glass of wine, watching the other women cook.

Catherine had sworn her to secrecy.

Noelle didn’t dare break that promise.

In the car with Derrick, she finished her makeup and tucked a few wayward strands of hair into place.

“Seriously, Noelle.” Derrick’s voice was louder, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel. “Sometimes it seems like you’ve totally checked out from what’s going on in our lives.”

“I’m two feet away. I can hear you,” she said quietly.

“ Jesus! Is that all you’re taking away from this discussion?” He deliberately raised his voice more. “I can speak however I want! When I’m angry, it’s important to let these things out instead of having them build up. And trust me, things have been building. ”

She flinched, recalling how he’d nearly punched a wall weeks ago but turned at the last moment and hit an overstuffed chair instead.

He’d won his second election several months back, but this term had not been going smoothly.

He’d been stressed and working long hours and would lose his temper at the drop of a hat.

“Then you need to talk to a therapist,” Noelle stated. “A lot of people believe what you just said about letting things out, but actually, expressing anger amplifies aggression and—”

She grabbed the car door handle as he yanked the Mercedes to the curb and hit the brakes. He spun in his seat and faced her. “ Do not quote your base-level psychology psychobabble to me. Four fucking years of college does not make you an expert!”

His face was red, and drops of sweat beaded on his temples.

Something else is bothering him. I pushed him over the edge.

I need to defuse this.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Derrick.” She lowered her gaze and saw his hands were shaking.

This is the angriest I’ve seen him.

Suddenly the inside of the car felt very small and hot.

“Can you forgive me?” she asked quickly. “I’ll put on a happy face and talk you up all evening. It’ll be good.” Clenching her teeth together, she cautiously slipped her hand into one of his and gave a hesitant squeeze. “We’ll feel better when we get there. It should be a fun night.”

His breathing slowed a bit, and he sat back in the driver’s seat, still holding her hand. “I’m sorry I yelled,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t mean it. It’s just ... work ... you know.”

“I do know.”

Thank God he’s calming down.

Derrick had never hit her, but damn, he sure looked like he wanted to sometimes.

On the days his temper flared like this, he always tried to make it up to her in bed that night with sex.

When they were done, he’d hold her tight and tell her how much he loved her and how sorry he was.

Sometimes he even cried as he asked her to forgive him for getting angry and yelling.

He blamed job stress and said his job was so important, he had to do it right. Thousands of people depended on him.

Noelle always said she forgave him. But she didn’t forget.

She should have known better than to suggest he talk to a therapist. Last time she’d suggested it, he’d walked out of the house, stating he was staying at the condo. He hadn’t come back for four days.

He guided the car back into the lane and continued to drive. Noelle took deep breaths and tried to slow her heart rate.

What will happen on the day I can’t cool him down?

As they stepped inside the hotel ballroom, Jon instantly whisked Derrick away because “there is someone he has to meet.”

Interpretation: someone with deep pockets.