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“Intensity is part of Cajun cuisine. I was born into it, so that gives me an edge. And it was mean of me. I should’ve warned you.”
Brandon nodded. “Very mean. But I forgive you if you let me have another sip now that I’m prepared for it. And one éclair as payment for your little trick.”
He waited as, with her chin up, she considered his request. His mind scrambled for something to say, any opening to soften her up, but his mind was still reeling when she finally spoke.
“Take the éclair. And tell me what the case is all about.”
CHAPTER 3
It must have been the chocolate. It was the only explanation Noelle had found for opening her big mouth and asking why Brandon Turner had come to her. She should’ve closed the door in his face, his treacherous, beautiful face. After all, if he was in with Reeker, nothing good could come out of anything he was about to say.
Even if she was determined to be on the lookout for any traps, why was it she couldn’t detect the same darkness surrounding him like she could with Detective Reeker? Could it be the fact this modern Viking was hot that was messing with her brain?
Noelle hated faltering due to lust, but she’d given her word. After all, this was only a professional call, and so far, Brandon Turner hadn’t been anything but courteous and didn’t jump down her throat for that little prank she’d pulled on him.
At a safe distance behind her desk, she watched the man fumble to drag a chair forward and squeeze into it. He was a big man and should come with a danger warning with that tall frame and those ripping muscles under that shirt.
“It’s about the Lottie Noble case. I know you reported all the evidence we found. I’ve read everything you’ve sent me, but something isn’t jiving with the case.”
It was pure reaction, honed from repeated occasions where her skills and professionalism had been doubted, that had her narrowing her eyes at him. “The data I put in this report is accurate, don’t you dare...”
Brandon lifted his hand, and if she wasn’t mistaken, pushed himself back a little at her vehemence. “Easy, Miss Breaux. It wasn’t a criticism. Far from it. The data is the data.” His surprise turned into a questioning frown. “Who’s been questioning your work? Is it someone in the department?”
The man was either digging for information or was genuinely concerned, and both outcomes would bring trouble. Noelle had enough on her plate and wasn’t about to stir that pot, so she dismissed his questions. “If the data isn’t the problem, how can I be of help?”
Those blues eyes didn’t seem convinced, but Brandon didn’t push. “Are you familiar with the Lottie Noble case at all?”
Noelle sighed and settled on her chair, taking a sip of cocoa. “I only know it’s a murder case. Here in the lab, the information doesn’t trickle down as it used to. Sometimes, we learn more information about a case from the local paper.”
“The case fell into my lap quicker than I expected, but I want to see it through, build something solid. A few days ago, Lottie Noble murdered her husband but doesn’t remember a thing. However, all the evidence, the fingerprints on the victim and the blade used to kill him, were solely hers. His blood was on her hands and clothes too. So, if I’m only listening to hard facts...”
It was easy for her to finish that sentence. “She would be deemed guilty. But you’re not convinced. Why?”
He rolled his broad shoulders, and Noelle would’ve gladly let her mind wander if his tone and expression weren’t so worriedand sincere. “It’s hard to explain—experience, I guess, or endless hours of interrogations with suspects throughout my career. When you’re sitting in front of a suspect, the individual may look like the devil incarnate or an innocent angel; doubt helps you discern between sincerity or trickery. Some call it behavioral science, but I wouldn’t dare call myself a scientist. I’m only a cop, listening to his instincts.”
“And your instincts are telling you something isn’t quite right. Do you think it’s coming from the evidence? The analysis?” This time when she spoke, her tone was more factual, less tainted by suspicion.
“I think there’s something that I don’t see yet. I’ll examine the crime scene again, but I also want to have another set of eyes, your scientist’s eyes on it. Maybe there are other analyses to conduct or samples to take, but for that part, I need your expertise.”
As for surprises, this was a big one. It had been so long since a lead investigator had come to the CSI team for help, apart from the analysis. The feeling was almost foreign. Could this all be a setup? Something to make them all look bad? On the other hand, her gut didn’t detect any sign of foul play.
“The team is here to help. When would you like to schedule it?”
She perceived a tiny wince under his golden beard. “How does now sound?”
One look at the overwhelming pile of tests and reports made her hesitate, which probably showed on her face as Brandon leaned forward. “Please. I know it’s short notice, but I want to get started on it. If we have an innocent in lockup, I’d hate for her to stay in there any longer than necessary.”
An innocent. Noelle had always believed in justice, and it was one of the reasons she loved her work. Even though she wasn’ton the front line, she still put the bad guys behind bars for good. How could she say no?
“Okay, let’s do it now. But I need to come back here by six at the latest.”
Brandon got to his feet. “Or what? Your carriage will turn back into a pumpkin?”
It was difficult not to react to the light teasing without getting her back up, but Noelle decided that even though she would remain careful, she’d lighten up too. A little, at least. “Yeah, and if I remember that fairytale correctly, the driver gets transformed back into a donkey, so that would be you, if you don’t keep your word.”
His joyful, booming laugh filled her office, and it was so full of glee, it warmed her somehow. It was unexpected to say the least, and added another layer of attraction to the man, not that he needed another one.
“If I remember the story, it was a horse, but I’ll let that pass. Well, Cinderella, your chariot awaits. Better get going if you want to get back in time for your ball, my lady.”
