condensation from the mirror with his fist, he leaned in close and rubbed his knuckles across his stubble. He could use a shave, but he wanted to catch the sheriff before nightfall.
He might have to tell Greavy everything later, or at least as much as Prospero would allow.
Pushing open the bathroom door, he stepped into the hallway, dragging his bag after him.
“Ready?” Noelle peered down the hallway. A pair of snow boots had replaced the fuzzy slippers and she’d pulled the white gauze from her wound, going with a bandage in its place.
“Yep.” He held up the duffel bag by the strap.
“You can put that in my bedroom...for now.”
He crossed the hall and dropped the bag by the door just inside her room. It didn’t mean a thing.
She grabbed both of their jackets from the hooks by the front door and tossed his to him. “At least it stopped snowing.”
She swung open the front door, and J.D. welcomed the blast of cold air that assaulted his face. He had no idea how he was going to be able to spend the night in Noelle’s house with her soft, warm body under the same roof.
Maybe he’d have to sleep with the windows open.
He unlocked the rental SUV and helped Noelle inside. “Have you heard from Tara? Is she getting her truck towed?”
“I haven’t heard from her yet, but that’s not unusual. Once her mother and Mrs. Corcoran get to talking, there’s no stopping them. Poor Tara’s probably stuck listening to their gossip.”
“They’re going to have a lot of gossip to go over now.”
“I can’t believe Bruce is gone. It seems every time...” She clamped her bottom lip between her teeth.
He raised a brow in her direction, waiting for her to finish, but she pressed her nose to the window instead.
“Do you think Bruce’s killers made a connection between me and Bruce? I’m thinking they didn’t once they found out he wasn’t my brother. Otherwise, they would’ve just substituted him for Ted as a hostage.”
“Better for them to have a brother than a friend as a hostage, but you might be right.” J.D. adjusted the rearview mirror and gave it a glance. “That means they weren’t around the lodge during our dinner with Bruce or they would’ve seen us with him.”
“So how did they mistake him for Ted? They look nothing alike.”
Hunching his shoulders, J.D. braced his hands against the steering wheel. “Maybe they saw Ted and Bruce together that night we had dinner and got their wires crossed. Tara told us she’d seen Ted with Bruce that night. I do know Zendaris can’t be happy about the screwup. He does not tolerate incompetence from his henchmen.”
Noelle zipped up her jacket even though he’d cranked on the heat as soon as he started the car. “Then he’s probably not a very happy arms dealer right now because whoever’s after me has messed up a few times.”
“And they’ll continue to mess up because they’re not getting anywhere near you.” His words rang with confidence. He knew he’d lay down his life to protect this woman.
“I wish I could figure out where Abby hid those plans. If we could find the plans, Zendaris’s game would be over. He’d have no reason to keep hunting me down.”
“I haven’t wanted to pressure you, Noelle, but anything you could remember would help us out. It would’ve been about four months ago, right before she disappeared from your life.”
“That’s when she stole the plans from the Prospero agent?”
“Yeah. What was going on with her? Did she travel anywhere? Open any new accounts with safe-deposit boxes? Dig any holes under the carpet?”
Noelle drew her brows together and toyed with the gloves in her lap.
“That last one was a joke.” J.D. nudged her with his elbow, not that he expected her to be laughing.
“If only she had dug a hole under the carpet.” She drummed her fingers on the dashboard. “Abby did have some computer problems around that time.”
“Too bad she didn’t have computer problems before she hacked into Cade’s computer to lift the plans.”
“J.D.” Her fingers stopped their nervous tapping, and her nails slid from the dashboard.
“Did you remember something?” His pulse thudded in his temples while he waited for her response.
“Abby had to use my computer.”
His blood raced through his veins, and he had to practically gasp for breath. “Abby Warren was using your computer? For what?”
“To access her emails and client sites and—” She pressed three fingers to her lips. “You don’t think she put something on