“My goal is to defend the wrongly accused.”

  “Very commendable. Tell that to Jake’s parents. The guy who ambushed him had been in jail, until somebody in Little Rock got the charges against him dropped.”

  “I’m truly sorry,” Noah told her, “but you can’t hold one mistake against all attorneys.”

  Emily broke eye contact with him and turned to stare out the window of the police car. “I’ll stop doing that as soon as you stop assuming that police officers like me are on a crusade to arrest innocent people.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You imply it every time you take a criminal case.” She opened the driver’s door and got out, adjusting her duty belt and holster. “Come on. Chief Rowlings will want to know everything you can remember about your former friends, especially the blonde ones.”

  “There’s really not a lot to tell,” Noah said, joining her. “It’s not like I keep a little black book of women’s names and numbers.”

  Emily had her back to him and was keying in an entry code at the locked rear door of the station. She stepped back and held the door open for him to pass, so he did. The way Noah saw it, his former friend had a hardened heart, and the fewer waves he made, the better. Not that he didn’t understand why she was bitter. A criminal had stolen the happy future she’d imagined and had done it with the help of the courts. Mistakes were made every day because people were fallible. No one could hope to guarantee perfect justice all the time. Not judges, not attorneys, not even police officers. All any of them could do was their best in a given situation, which was exactly what he was doing now.

  Following Emily’s directions, Noah passed through a narrow corridor between banks of cells. Most were empty.

  “I was hoping you’d picked up Buddy Corrigan,” he said over his shoulder.

  “We’re looking. No sign of him yet. Any chance he was the assailant who knifed you?”

  “Not unless he can fly,” Noah replied. “I don’t think he could have gotten across town to your place that fast on foot after he ditched me, although nothing is impossible if he had a car stashed. Did your people find anything on closed circuit cameras?”

  “Still checking,” she said flatly.

  “I’m looking forward to results.”

  “Which you will only see if we need you to ID your client,” Emily warned. “As the victim of a crime, you know we won’t be showing you pictures of suspects until we’re sure.”

  “What about professional courtesy?”

  She huffed. “That, Mr. Holden, is an oxymoron as far as I’m concerned.”

  “You mean as far as I’m concerned, don’t you?”

  Instead of answering, Emily knocked on a closed door, then opened it slightly. “I have Noah Holden with me, Chief,” she announced. “Where do you want me to put him?”

  Several wry but amusing answers popped into Noah’s mind and were almost funny enough to make him smile. He squelched the urge. This interview was no laughing matter. Rowlings didn’t know him nearly as well as Max did and could conceivably suspect him if he didn’t choose his words carefully. This was murky ground he was treading, and caution was advised.

  Invited in, he offered his good hand, shook with the chief and settled into the chair closest to the front of the desk.

  “Good to hear it wasn’t serious.” Rowlings indicated the bandage and sling with a lift of his chin. “How are you feeling? Sore?”

  “A little. It’s probably going to leave a bigger scar on my pride than it will on my arm.”

  The chief chuckled. “Probably. What caused the confrontation in the first place? How did you come in contact with the perp?”

  Noah didn’t want to throw Emily under the bus to salve his own ego, so he simply said, “Wrong place, wrong time.”

  “What brought you to Officer Zwalt’s house?”

  “A whim,” Noah said with a sigh. “I’d been planning to haul Corrigan over there and make him explain why he’d phoned me to come to the park. When he gave me the slip, I decided to drop by anyway.”

  “Do you and Emily have a history?”

  “In a manner of speaking,” Noah said, fully conscious of her presence behind him. “We knew each other back in the day. Went to the same high school, although I was a couple of years ahead of her.”

  “I see. Nothing more?”

  Noah felt his cheeks warming. “No, sir. Just friends.”

  “Okay. I’m going to have you interviewed by a different officer anyway.” Looking past Noah, he focused on Emily. “Nothing personal, Zwalt. Who do we have who isn’t a childhood friend?”

  “That’s hard to say in a small town like Paradise,” she replied. “The only one I can think of is Cal Dodge. He’s pretty green, though.”

  “Granted. A simple interview like this one will be good training for him. Set it up.” Rowlings stood to offer his hand to Noah again. “Thanks for coming in so promptly.”

  “I’d say it’s my pleasure, but in this instance, it isn’t. I don’t like hearing that there may be a connection between me and your murder victims.”

  “Coincidences do happen,” the chief drawled. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll have it sorted out soon.”

  Noah wanted to express hope that the chief was right but chose to merely nod in agreement. Putting those victims together and placing them in his life, however tenuously, had shaken him. There couldn’t be a connection. There simply couldn’t be. But what other explanation fit? Did someone have a grudge against the local police? Or was a disgruntled client trying to discredit him in order to harm Max’s law practice? That notion was farfetched but made about as much sense as thinking a killer was trying to frame him personally.

  “I don’t think I have this kind of dedicated enemies,” Noah told the chief in parting. “I’m looking forward to helping you put the pieces of the puzzle together.”

  “God willing, before anybody else dies,” Rowlings added soberly.

  Noah nodded, whispering, “Amen,” as he followed Emily from the room.

  * * *

  Listening in on Noah’s interview told Emily nothing she didn’t already know. If Noah did have a connection to the initial victims, it was tenuous. The most recent murder, however, was different. He had talked to the Roskov woman within hours of her death, so his name had to remain on the list of possible suspects. She smiled. Person of interest was now the official title, but as far as she was concerned, there was nothing wrong with calling them what they were—suspects.

  Noah’s earlier questions had caused her to focus on losing Jake when she’d been convinced she was long past that pain. Perhaps she never really would heal. That wasn’t all bad, was it? The more she remembered her former fiancé, the better she’d remember why she’d taken on this job and what her God-given task was.

  She joined Noah in the hallway as soon as Cal finished the interview. “I’ve been told to drive you back to your car.”

  “You don’t have to sound so unhappy about it.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “Right.” He gestured with his good arm. “Lead on.”

  They were settled in a patrol car and passing through town when Noah said, “Me, too.”

  “You too what?”

  “Just doing my job. To the best of my ability. The same as you are.”

  “I never said you weren’t. I just don’t like to see somebody bend the law to get what they want.”

  The angry expression Emily glimpsed gave Noah an edge of danger that made him look even more handsome—a fact that she categorically denied.

  “I never bend anything,” he stated. “I take advantage of opportunities to give my clients second chances, to allow them to return to the lives they once had, to help them find the same happiness we all seek, even if they have made mistakes.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve seen the results of too much forgiveness. It can be lethal.”

  “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” Noah asked. “You can’t forgive the man who took somebody you loved, and you don’t dare blame God, so you’re taking it out on me.”

  “I’m doing nothing of the kind.”

  “Ha!”

  Emily was searching for the best rebuttal when her radio squealed. “All units.” Dispatch gave the ten-code for a possible attack in progress, and Emily was quick to decide. “Unit three is one block away. Responding.”

  “Copy. Ambulance ETA five.”

  “What’s going on?” Noah began bracing himself.

  The glance she gave him was meant to be dismissive. “Domestic abuse.”

  “What are you getting me into now?”

  “Nothing that concerns you. A life may be at stake, so hang on, Mr. Holden. We’re going for a little ride.”

  Acceleration pinned him to the seat. Emily’s hands gripped the steering wheel. She knew she was breaking rules by answering this call with a civilian on board, but the other units had reported extended ETAs, and her unit was practically on top of the incident. If she ended up being disciplined, fine. Saving a life meant more than preserving her rank.

  A crowd had gathered in front of the address dispatch had given. Many of the bystanders were pointing at the porch, and more than one person was snapping photos with a cell phone.

  Emily slid to a stop at the curb, shouted at Noah, “Stay in the car,” then hit the ground running. Her palm rested on the grip of her gun.

  “He’s long gone,” someone yelled. “Call an ambulance.”

  “We have one on the way,” Emily shouted. “What happened here?” As she spoke, she was climbing the porch stairs, still wary because she had no official backup yet. A young woman lay prostrate in front of the open door. Emily felt for a carotid pulse and felt it, so she rolled the victim over and began CPR.

  By the third chest compression, her hands were covered in blood, and she figured her efforts were futile, but she didn’t stop until the paramedics arrived. Rocking back on her heels to make room for them, she gasped to catch her breath.

  The medics worked rapidly, assessed the victim, loaded her on a gurney and sped away, lights flashing, siren wailing.

  Fighting tears brought on by exhaustion and a fear of failure, Emily stood and addressed the crowd. “Everyone please remain here until we can get your names.”

  When someone handed her a clean towel, she realized her hands were shaking. Another person provided a container of sanitizing wipes. Other units had arrived, and fellow officers were forming a loose line around the observers, herding them into a tighter group to be interviewed on scene.

  Noah stood apart from the rest. His face was pale and his jaw agape. As he approached, Emily could tell he was feeling strong emotions.

  She descended to the lawn and faced him. “I told you to stay in the car.”

  “I needed to get a closer look,” Noah said.

  “This was a domestic,” Emily told him. “No connection to the other cases.” She noticed he seemed slightly unsteady. “Besides, you were with me when it happened.”

  Noah had paused at the foot of the stairs and rested one hand on the railing. “She’s blonde and blue-eyed.”

  “I didn’t notice her eye color,” Emily said.

  “I don’t have to see it. I know who she is.”

  “One of your clients?”

  Noah nodded. “Yes. Laura Bright. Husband’s name is Jim.”

  “I’m sorry,” Emily said, softening toward him, “but we know who’s responsible this time. There are plenty of witnesses.”

  “That doesn’t make this any less tragic.” Noah turned and touched her shoulder. “You did everything you could.”

  “I’m afraid it wasn’t enough.” She was slipping into self-condemnation when Noah said something that upset her so much she was speechless.

  “You’re not trained to do the impossible, Em. You’re trained to do your best, to give it all you have to give and leave the results to God. Expecting more of yourself or arguing with the outcome will eventually destroy you.”

  She knew exactly what he really meant and who he was referring to. This wasn’t a speech about the poor victim she’d found on the porch. It was Noah’s way of reminding her she wasn’t in charge of the events in her life any more than she could change the fact that CPR may not have been enough this time.

  Emily understood that better than anybody imagined. She’d watched and prayed and wept in disbelief as the most valiant efforts at resuscitation had failed to save her beloved Jake.

  Gaping at Noah, she wanted to rail at him for being insensitive, but she couldn’t. Why?

  Because he was right.

  SEVEN

  Noah’s wound ached, and fatigue was increasing, yet he didn’t want to leave Emily when she was feeling so down, even if that emotional reaction was illogical. Nothing much made sense since they’d met again after so many years. Unfortunately, rationalizing did little to alleviate his concern.

  “Why don’t we check with the hospital in a little while and ask about my client’s condition?” Noah suggested.

  “What do you mean, we?”

  “Okay then, you, although I am her attorney of record.”

  “You were.”

  “Not necessarily past tense. The medics must have thought she had a chance or they wouldn’t have transported her so fast.”

  Noah saw Emily arch her brows as if slightly surprised before conceding, “You may have a point. I’ll drop you at your car and...”

  “I want to stay with you.”

  “There’s no need for that. I’ll let you know if your client survived to pay her bill.”

  “Low blow, Officer Zwalt,” Noah said, reverting to a more professional approach to hide the hurt.

  “I’m really sorry. It’s been a lousy morning.”

  Seeing how truly penitent she was made it easier to forgive her. “Yeah, I noticed.” Supporting his arm in addition to the sling, he started back for the police car. A sense of her presence told him Emily was following.

  After she got in and had helped him secure his seat belt again, she rested her hands on the wheel. “I’ll need to go home and change into a clean uniform, anyway, so you may as well pick up your car. After that, I can’t stop you from going to the hospital or anywhere else. I do advise against wearing yourself out, though. You are injured.”

  “That I am. How long do you expect to be?”

  “At home? Not long. I’ll inform the chief I’m temporarily out of service and explain why. If he doesn’t need me elsewhere, I’ll visit this victim later. Assuming she’s still with us.”

  Noah nodded. “I have a strong feeling she will be. I don’t know why. I just do.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Emily said, pulling into traffic. “It would be nice to save one once in a while, know what I mean?”

  “I do. Think of what it feels like for me to keep learning that my prior acquaintances are meeting horrible ends.”

  Nodding while keeping her eyes on traffic, Emily said, “Not to mention how that looks to people like me. If you were a stranger with no history in Paradise and didn’t have Max to vouch for you, there’s a good chance you’d be in police custody right now.”

  “That sounds like a conversation we’ve already had,” Noah remarked. “What happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’?”

  It surprised him to see her almost smile. “If you ask me, that should be worded differently. I’d say, ‘Under surveillance until shown to be innocent,’ instead.”

  “You can’t prove a negative, Em.”

  “Maybe not, but I can uncover whoever is really guilty and make sure they pay.”

  Noah started to shrug. The pain made him wince. Experience had shown there was no point in arguing. He and Emily should have been cooperating and supporting each other, yet they were as opposed as two sides in a fighting war.

  Now that she’d told him about her personal loss, he could better commiserate but that wasn’t enough to change his own mind. He’d come to the rescue of many poor souls whose mistakes had landed them in jail despite extenuating circumstances. Parents had stolen food to feed starving children. Mates had been separated through misunderstandings and had caused problems over differences that should have been arbitrated and resolved. Workers had been unfairly blamed for the acts of others. The list went on and on.

  And in this case? His thoughts drifted back to the woman on the porch, and he prayed she’d survive to corroborate or refute the testimony of all those so-called witnesses. He’d seen mob mentality at work before, and unless someone reliable had seen her husband actually injure her, there was a chance he was innocent.

  That was the kind of out-of-the-box thinking Emily failed to comprehend, Noah concluded. To her, life was cut-and-dried with little wiggle room. To him, innocence was as clear as the bandage on his arm. All one had to do was look for it to see it.

  And be open to recognizing it when it presented itself, he added. Like his own case. He figured it would be wise to call his old office and ask for copies of the records of his official activities from before he’d come to Paradise. Even if the police never asked to see them, he might spot a clue.

  “My cell phone,” Noah reminded her. “I’ll need it back.”

  “I turned it in at the station this morning when I picked up this car.”

  “Terrific. So you’re holding it hostage?”

  Emily chuckled. “In a manner of speaking. I’ll see what I can do to get it released. Why don’t you buy a burner phone until I do?”

  “I’d feel like a spy or a drug dealer using one of those throwaways,” Noah said, sending her a wry look. “Besides, my phone has all my contacts programmed into it.”