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Noelle sat at her kitchen table, staring at the clutter. Ken’s planner lay open. Jonah’s stacked mail that Raven had delivered earlier that day had fallen and scattered across the surface. She closed her eyes and fought the compulsion to clear the mess. Her OCD tendencies, a nice gift to go along with the scars from the serial killer—her serial killer. Control. Noelle thrived on it. And she’d never felt so out of control as she did at that moment.

The groove the bullet had cut through her arm burned, but it was Jonah’s gentle touch that had seared her skin. In the past fifteen years, no one had shown as much compassion as Jonah had in that moment. Of course, few of her friends knew—but not even her best friend, Lizzie Tremaine Lee, was privy to the details.

Noelle gritted her teeth to hold the tears at bay. Jonah’s tenderness was almost too much to handle. And what about that kiss? She closed her eyes and exhaled, letting the tension of the day wash away so she could focus on how to keep Jonah safe and find the person responsible for the attacks.

“I’m sorry.” Jonah ran his hand across her back and sat next to her.

“About what?”

He swept his hand in an arc across the table. “The mess. I know it bothers you.”

The denial sat on her tongue, but no way would she lie to him. Besides, he knew the truth whether she admitted it or not.

She shrugged. “Yes. But I can live with it for a while. Why don’t you go through your mail while I examine Ken’s planner again.”

“Gladly, if it’ll ease your stress.” He sat and scooped the pile of mail together.

She grabbed the planner and opened it. “Why are you being so accommodating?”

He tore open an envelope and tossed the paper strip onto the table.

Gah! This would be harder than she’d thought. She retrieved a trash can and placed it next to him.

He grinned and threw away the scraps of paper. “I don’t mean to be a hot mess. Just like you don’t purposely want everything perfect. But here we are. I can try harder to pay attention to what is important to you.”

She tilted her head and studied him. “Are you for real?”

He full-on belly-laughed. “I’m just me.”

“Aren’t guys supposed to be self-centered?”

The smile on Jonah’s face disappeared. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone in the male population, and even though we can be, when a guy finds a woman he wants to explore a relationship with, he treasures her. That means doing the little things so she feels cared for and loved.”

She jerked to face him. “Really?”

“Now it’s my turn. Are you for real? What kind of guys have you dated?” He tossed the current piece of mail into the trash and reached for another.

She was so out of her league it wasn’t even funny. But she’d started the conversation, so she owed him an honest answer. “I don’t date.”

Jonah froze. “As in never?”

Noelle squirmed in her seat. How did she explain and not come off looking ridiculous? “My parents didn’t allow me to date until I was sixteen. And even then, I wasn’t that interested.” She shrugged. “Sure, I liked boys, but I didn’t have a lot of time with my sports schedule. Most of us hung out in groups after practice.”

“Now, how did I guess you were a jock?”

“Because you know me.”

“Apparently, not as well as I thought.” He placed his hand over hers on the table. “Go on.”

She inhaled. “There was this one guy, Travis, that I spent a lot of time with during track practice. I had just turned seventeen when he asked me out. Of course, I said yes. We had a great time.” The memory of her first and only date warmed her heart. “He took me to dinner and then to the movies. We had a lot in common, so we had no problem coming up with things to talk about. At the end of the night, he gave me my first kiss.”

“Sounds like a nice memory.” He squeezed her fingers.

“It was.” And then her carefree life had ended. “A couple weeks later, I was abducted.” She stared at their hands, wondering how her life would have turned out if she’d listened to her gut on that fateful night.

“What about afterward? Please tell me the guys you dated treated you well.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t date.”

“Yeah, but…” His eyes widened. “As in…”

She nodded. “I’ve had one date in my entire life.”

“And the kiss?”

“One.” Thirty-two years old, and she’d kissed one man—make that boy—in her life.

“So when I kissed you, you hadn’t kissed anyone else but that Travis kid?”

She dropped her gaze to the table and shook her head.

“I had no idea.” He cupped her chin and lifted, forcing her to look at him. “I’m honored to be your second kiss. And make no mistake, it was extremely enjoyable.”

Heat traveled from her neck to her cheeks. “But you’re experienced in relationships and…things. And I’m not.” Great. Now she sounded like an idiot.

“All you need is a little confidence in the relationship department, but I have a feeling it’s the and things you’re most worried about.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Am I right?”

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Then I think it’s time to do something about that.”

“Wait. What?” Had she heard him correctly?

“I said I think—” His jaw dropped. “No. That’s not what I meant.” He covered his face with his hands. “I’m really botching this. What I was trying to say is that I’d like to show you what a relationship is like. And since I jumped to the kiss first, I’d like to take you on a date.”

Her heart rate settled a bit, then sped up. The rollercoaster of emotions exhausted her. “I don’t know, Jonah. When you realize you can’t deal with my scars and walk away, you’ll destroy me.”

“All the more reason I want to show you what a real relationship is like. Nothing—not even scars—will scare me.” He clasped her hands. “I have no idea what the future will bring between us. But I do know that I’d like you to have a positive memory—with me.”

Could she take the chance? She’d opened up to him more than anyone else in her life. Uncertain yet unwilling to let the opportunity pass, she made up her mind. “I think I’d like that.”

He smiled. “Me too.” He squeezed her hands one more time, then grabbed another envelope. “Unfortunately, until we solve this mystery that Ken handed us, we might have to get creative in the date department.”

Glad the intensity of the conversation had ended, Noelle took a deep breath. “Explain.”

Jonah slid his finger under the flap and popped it open. “I’m thinking dinner and a movie, but here at your house.”

“Basically, what we’ve been doing for the past year?”

“Yes and no. This time my focus will be on you as a woman, not just as a friend.”

And there went the flutter in her belly again. The idea of his full attention on her made her palms sweat.

She’d moved beyond being a scared young woman, and excelled in a male-dominated law enforcement career. But the concept of going on a date with Jonah terrified her.

* * *

What had he done? Jonah wiped a hand down his face. His comment about dating Noelle played on repeat in his head. He had no business considering a relationship with anyone—especially Noelle. He’d failed his wife Cara, but he refused to fail Noelle. And that’s what would happen if he allowed himself to look beyond friendship.

But that kiss had struck something deep inside him. The completeness that had overwhelmed him…he hadn’t experienced since Cara. He closed his eyes. Only the second kiss in her life. He sighed. She kissed like a dream—his dream. His heart had taken over and left his mind spinning.

He ventured a glance at her. The vulnerability in her expression would have taken him to his knees if he hadn’t been sitting. He vowed right then that no matter what happened between them, he’d convince her that even with her scars, she was worthy of love.

Without pondering the consequences of his words, Jonah dumped the contents of the package onto the table. A black flash drive bounced on the surface before coming to a rest in front of them. The piece of paper that followed floated down and rested next to it.

They both stared at the items like they’d jump up and bite.

Noelle’s gaze flicked to him. “Who’s it from?”

“Not a clue. No return address.” Jonah lifted the note and unfolded it. “It’s from Ken.”

“What’d he say?” Noelle leaned closer and peered over his shoulder.

“That he’s sorry, and that everything I need to set the autopsy records straight is on the flash drive.” Jonah picked up the small device and rolled it in his hand. “I’m not sure I want to know what’s on it.”

“I’d say with all the attempts on your life, you don’t have a choice.” Noelle covered his hand, stilling his movement. “I’ll go get my laptop while you get yours. The not knowing will drive you crazy.”

“You’re right.” He retrieved his laptop from his messenger bag and booted it up. By the time he’d inserted the flash drive, Noelle had returned from her office with her computer. “Have a seat and let’s see what Ken sent me.”

She scooted her chair next to him for a full view of the screen.

“Here goes nothing.” He clicked on the folder named Original Reports. Eighteen individual file names popped onto the screen.

Noelle sucked in an audible breath. “He falsified that many reports?”

“It looks like it.” Jonah opened the document labeled Tina Snyder and examined the first close-up photo Ken had included and the police report. “Look at the marks on her neck.”

“Strangulation?”

“That would be my guess.” He squinted at the screen. “Check it out.” He pointed at the handwritten note at the bottom of the page. “We don’t need the fake autopsy files. At least, not initially. Ken’s told me what he labeled it as. Tina’s presumed strangulation was marked as a hit-and-run.”

“Open another one.”

Jonah clicked on the next file and studied it. “This one appears to be a drug overdose. See the marks on her arm and the dried froth around her mouth? And Ken wrote it as an accidental drowning.”

“So basically, something close but where the police wouldn’t continue to investigate.”

“Exactly. Hold on.” He scrolled down the list of names until he landed on the last file. “This looks interesting.”

“All it says is extra photos.” Noelle tapped the screen.

“But the question is, why make a separate file?” He clicked on the name. When the file opened, his stomach threatened to revolt.

Noelle squeaked. “Is that what I think it is?”

Image after image popped up. Each young woman’s body had cuts similar to the pictures on Noelle’s wall—and the scars on her arms.

“How?” Her voice quivered. “These date back three years. Long after my serial killer stopped his attacks.”

“The question is, why did he stop? Was he in jail? Did he die and someone else picked up his cause?”

Noelle pushed from her chair, knocking it to the ground. “He can’t be back. He just can’t.”

He snagged her hand. His gut twisted in knots. “Don’t go there. Not yet. We have no idea what’s going on.”

“Jonah, these are the same!” She ran her fingers through her hair. Her breaths came in pants.

“Please, have a seat. Try to calm down before you hyperventilate.” He tugged her toward him.

She nodded, then picked up the chair from the floor and sat. “Okay. I’m good.”

He quirked a brow. “No, you aren’t, but it’s understandable.” His gaze drifted to the screen and the photos staring back at him. “I was waiting for evidence, and now we have it. I think it’s time to call Matt and Decia.”

“I…” She swallowed hard.

He waited her out, not pushing.

“No one knows about me.” The pain in her eyes raked his heart.

“Come here.” He tugged her into a hug and rubbed her back. “Why is it so important that it remains a secret?”

Her cheek rested on his chest. “Because my scars are ugly, and it’s a constant reminder of how stupid I was.”

“Oh, Elle. The scars won’t matter to your friends. Sure, they’ll empathize with you, but they will not pity you. And as far as you being stupid, I don’t think so. You were young. And let’s be honest. Yes, you could have listened to your gut, but how many times do any of us ignore that internal warning? It rarely turns out as tragic as what you experienced. Give yourself some grace.”

The front of his shirt turned damp and warm. He hadn’t realized she’d started crying.

A few minutes later, she pulled away and wiped at his shirt. “Sorry that I got you all wet.”

“I’ll dry.” He brushed the hair from her forehead. “Better?”

She stared at him through watery eyes. “Yeah, I actually am.”

“Good. Are you ready to continue?”

She nodded. “You call Matt and Decia while I go get an extra flash drive from my office. We’ll give them the original, but I plan to make a copy for us.” Noelle strode down the hall, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He forced himself to focus on the task at hand and not the possibility of Noelle’s serial killer out there on the loose. He grabbed his cell phone and hit Matt’s speed dial number.

Jonah opened another file while he waited for his friend to answer. The image knocked the wind from him. His failure slammed into him—again. A crumpled car so similar to Cara’s accident it made him want to puke. The girl’s injuries mimicked his deceased wife’s. Injuries he’d had no power to keep from killing her.

“Detective Williams.” Matt’s voice drifted down a long tunnel. “Hello?”

He shook off the image of the accident. “Hey, Matt, it’s Jonah.”

“Hey, Doc. What can I do for you?”

He ran his finger against the flash drive. “I have something I need to show you. Can you and Decia come over to Noelle’s?”

“Does this have anything to do with what y’all weren’t telling us?”

“Yes.” His gaze never left the photos in front of him.

“I’ll grab Decia. We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Jonah hung up and stared at the accident scene on the screen.

Over the years, he’d saved so many people in the emergency room. But faced with the life-and-death situation of the person who meant the most to him, he’d failed.

How had God let him become one of the best ER doctors on the east coast and not allowed him to save his own wife?