Disclaimer – Don't own them, don't sue me.
*Notes – A great thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! I hope you enjoy.
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Noah pressed his back flat against the door leading into holding cell three, letting his breath out in a shaky sigh. His mind was whirling from both unanswered questions and newly discovered answers, and his brain felt as if it was going to implode from the information that was being held captive in it.
He knew that he shouldn't hover outside the cell in case someone came by, but he couldn't help letting his eyes flutter shut as he thought back to his meeting with Kevin.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Kevin, I need to talk to you." The door had scarcely opened before Noah voiced his demand, causing Kevin's head to jerk up, his eyes widening in a comical fashion.
"You- you're Noah, right?" Kevin asked, although the question seemed rhetorical to Noah. "Luke's boyfriend?"
"You know that I am, Kevin. We met during the election, and hell, you saw me, what was it? Four hours ago?" Noah's voice was dripping in a mixture of sarcasm and mistrust, and he saw Kevin's eyes flash as a result. Noah cursed to himself, knowing that he had to at least try to gain Kevin's trust if he wanted to get any information out of him.
Kevin seemed to not notice Noah's internal debate as he babbled on. "Four and a half hours ago, actually. But what do you want?" As he spoke, Kevin seemed to deflate, as if the fight was draining out of him. "Are you here on Luke's behalf, to bash my skull in? If you are – go ahead. I won't stop you."
Noah instinctively took a step back in surprise. He didn't really know Kevin aside from their few run ins at OU, but from the stories Luke had told him over the years, Kevin hadn't sounded like one to just give up. Noah had expected fighting and hysterics, not this quiet defeat.
"No, I'm not here to 'bash your skull in.' " Noah used air quotes when he quoted Kevin, although the other man didn't notice; he was studying the steel table in front of him. "I came here to ask you about what you said at the pond – about being drugged."
As if a light were being switched on inside of Kevin, he looked up, straightened up. His entire demeanor seemed to change, although wariness still tinged his every movement. "What do you want to know?" he asked. "I'll tell you everything, anything."
Noah rocked back on his heels, thinking. He hadn't thought this far into his plan – he had expected a fierce fight with Kevin first. Millions of questions raced through his head, some pertaining to the case, and some so petty that he cringed to even think of them. Did you ever love Luke? What do you mean to him?
Knowing that he couldn't waste his time asking Kevin pointless questions about his ex-friendship with Luke, Noah crossed his arms and sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the grey table. Briefly looking around, Noah surveyed his surroundings; the predominant color was grey, with white splashes here and there. The room was cool, the floor concrete, and Noah could easily see himself going insane in the small room.
"Noah?" Kevin asked, snapping him back to the present. Shaking his head to relieve it of images of being imprisoned in his own childhood basement, Noah blindly asked the first question that floated into his head.
"Kevin, why would you say that you were drugged? What good would it do? I mean, I don't see how it would change anything; drugs didn't make you drive that car down that embankment." Noah cut himself off as he realized that his one question was quickly turning into an interrogation. Leaning back into his chair, he forced himself to relax and wait for Kevin's answer.
Long moments ticked by, their seconds measured by Noah's breaths. Just when he was about to stand up and leave, Kevin leaned forward and rested his shackled hands on the table.
"I'm not saying I was drugged, Noah – I was. If I did this on my own free will, I'd serve the time. How else would I be able to live with myself?" Such a noble answer would have normally made Noah scoff, but there was something burning in those bright blue eyes that made him more inclined to believe the blonde sitting across from him.
"But you were drunk." The statement was hard, made harder by the look in Noah's eyes. "You were drunk, Kevin, and-"
"No, I wasn't!" Kevin raised his voice, regretting it immediately as Noah raised an eyebrow.
"You weren't? Then how come your car reeked of booze?" The point was solid, and Noah watched without interest as Kevin lifted a hand to run it through his hair, only to be stopped by the handcuffs encircling his wrists.
"I was at a party the night before. There was a lot of alcohol, and I drove some people home. I think they were drinking in the backseat, and they must've spilled everywhere. I was going to clean the truck out the next morning…" Kevin's voice drifted off.
The information startled Noah, but he made sure that his facial expression didn't change. "So you drove people home while you were wasted?" Noah asked, "and you wonder why I don't believe you about not wanting to 'harm' Ethan?"
"I was the designated driver!" Kevin yelled, slamming a fist down with a loud crack. "Noah… last year, one of my best friends died. Not because he was drunk, but because a drunk driver hit him." Kevin's voice was steady, but his entire body was slumped into his small chair. "I was so fucking mad at the guy that hit him. I thought, how could anyone be that selfish? Then, then I thought – I thought that could've been me that killed him. I could've been the drunken guy that hit my best friend while he was at a stop sign, going 130 an hour with no headlights on at two in the fucking morning. I haven't driven while drunk since then."
"What was your friend's name?" Noah asked, hating how callous he sounded, but needing to know so he could verify the information.
"Brett. Brett Taylor." Kevin whispered the name, his voice cracking on the last syllable. Noah mouthed it into the air, rolling the name on his tongue to help him remember.
Watching Kevin bow his head, lost in thoughts, Noah gave the blonde a few minutes to collect himself before continuing with his interrogation.
"Fine then, what were you given?" At Kevin's blank stare, Noah rephrased. "What drugs were you given?" Noah watched as Kevin's mouth contorted, revealing how hard he was thinking. Thinking about the truth, or thinking about which lie to spout off next?
"I don't know." Kevin replied, something in those eyes flickering. "I think something was slipped to me, because I know I didn't take anything, and I didn't shoot up, but I know that I wasn't not high either."
"What do you know?" Noah asked, trying his best to prevent his frustration from seeping into his words.
"I remember... I remember having lunch with someone." Kevin began, each word sounding as if he tasted it in his mouth before saying it, slow and deliberate. "I remember that I didn't know them, but yet I did. Something about them, it was familiar, almost as if I knew them. But I know I didn't know them." Kevin's forehead wrinkled, showing his confusion.
"I remember that they ordered me the house special - a turkey sandwich. Funny, what sticks in your memory." Kevin noted absently. "And I remember that when I saw Luke and Ethan, I was feeling funny. I thought maybe it was a dizzy spell from being up too late the night before. But then... I was driving, and everything was wrong. There were colors where colors shouldn't be, and I felt like, like I wasn't controlling what I was doing. And then, I remember the hospital."
"So let me get this straight," Noah said, hoping he injected enough doubt into his voice to cover up his confusion, "you were drugged, but you don't remember what it was. The person who drugged you had dinner with you, but you don't know who they were. And I'm supposed to believe that?"
"Noah, you've got to!" Kevin cried as he stood up, the metal of his handcuffs rattling against the table. "I'm not lying, I swear! I promise Noah, I'm not!"
A small smirk graced Noah's lips, shocking Kevin into silence. "You better hope to hell you're not lying, because I'm going to know the truth in about… 48 hours."
"How?" The word was a strangled gasp, torn from Kevin's throat. The reaction Noah had been hoping for was far different than what Kevin gave him, and he felt unexpected anger bubbling up in his chest, begging to be released.
"We're getting drug tests done on your piss from the day of the accident." Noah's tone was crude, along with his words, and some sadistic part of him reveled in it. "The tests will be back any day now, and then we'll know, Kevin."
"But… tests take weeks to be done in labs!" Kevin's protest was weak, and it served to enrage Noah further. If he's telling the truth, then why the fuck does he sound so worried?
"Not if you have them done in a private lab." Noah knew he was gloating, and knew that it was dangerous to let Kevin in on his plans, but found that he couldn't help himself; anger had loosened his tongue, and it was too late to take anything back.
"That's good then." The abrupt turn around in attitude confused Noah, and he couldn't help but let his bewilderment flicker on his face. Catching on, Kevin continued. "The sooner you see that I'm telling the truth, the better."
"This isn't going to help me believe that you're telling the truth, Kevin." Noah spat out. "It's going to show whether or not you were high that night." Noah let his sentence hang in the air for a long moment, before standing up and heading towards the door.
"Wait!" Kevin cried, half standing in his chair. "Who knows that you came here?"
"No one." Noah said, fiercely regretting the words the moment they slipped out of him. "And if you tell any Snyder that I was here, I'll say you're lying." Noah ignored the twinge of guilt that swept through him at the thinly veiled threat, choosing to focus on zipping his hoodie up until it tucked just under his chin. Without a word, Noah walked out of the room, leaving Kevin behind.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Footsteps echoed through the hallway, drawing closer to where Noah was standing. Glancing around, Noah walked towards the red exit sign that was located on the far end of the hall – away from the footsteps.
As he exited the building, a small bubble of laughter rose in Noah's throat as he tried to remember the last time he had left the police station from the front door. The laughter faded as Noah began to process everything that Kevin had told him.
The first thing he needed to do, he decided, was to find out if Kevin had been lying about being drunk. Figuring that there had to be some kind or report from the night of the car crash, Noah debated sneaking back into the station to ask Dallas, before deciding against it. As he knew from experience, Oakdale had a tendency to gossip, and he had been lucky that no one had recognized him when he had been in the station earlier.
Deciding that he would come back to the station later to talk to Dallas, Noah unlocked his truck and slid into the driver's seat. He cursed when he bumped the evidence bag that was lying on the floor with his feet, tipping it over. A closed jar filled with a yellow liquid (Kevin's urine, Noah assumed) rolled out of the bag, along with a small business card.
Grabbing the jar, Noah set it back into the bag and tucked the bag underneath the car seat. Snatching the card from the floor, Noah curiously flipped it over to see that Dallas had hastily scribbled his cell phone number on the back, along with a message – 'Call me as soon as you find out anything! I mean it, Noah! Dallas.'
Smiling, Noah tucked the card into his jacket pocket, realizing that he didn't have to go back into the station; he could just call Dallas. But before he did that, he needed to find out some information.
Brett Taylor. The name echoed through Noah's head, and his fingers itched to type the name into a computer and see what popped up. Noah knew that he couldn't go back to the Snyder farm quite yet because he wouldn't get a moment alone to use the computer, but the knowledge didn't stop the sharp pang that went through him. It's only been a few hours, but god, I miss you Luke.
Noah hated lying to his boyfriend, but he knew it had to be done. Luke wouldn't understand, and Noah knew that he was doing the right thing. A humorless smile crossed Noah's face as he realized that he sounded exactly like Luke did during his obsession with Elwood after Reg's death. But this is different; I know what I'm doing is right. Shaking his head, Noah refocused on the road and decided to take his chances and head to Lucinda's cottage.
Once he arrived at the cottage, Noah grabbed the emergency key from under the doormat and let himself in.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" he called out cautiously, not surprised when the only answer was a ringing silence. Walking over to the corner of the room, Noah booted up a computer that was in the corner of the room; the exact same place that it had been when he had been living in the cottage with Ameera.
Noah knelt in front of the computer, rested his hands on the keyboard, and impatiently waited for it to load. When it did, he almost cheered to see that there was internet connection still in the cottage – thank you Lucinda!
Pulling up a search engine, Noah typed in "Brett Taylor," only to find that nothing seemed relevant. Clearing the search box, Noah typed in "Brett Taylor Oakdale," only to have the same results. He continued to narrow down his search terms until a promising looking page popped up. "NINETEEN YEAR OLD KILLED IN DRINKING-AND-DRIVING CRASH" the headline blared.
Clicking on the link, Noah read the article, finding that most of the information matched up to what Kevin had said earlier. 'This doesn't prove anything' Noah reminded himself, it just means that Kevin wasn't lying about this one thing. That doesn't mean he wasn't bullshitting me on anything else."
Printing off the article and folding into a small square, Noah placed in his pocket, only to feel his fingertips brush against Dallas's business card. Pulling the card out, Noah wandered over to the couch to call Dallas, and almost dropped his phone when it began to ring.
Scrambling to flip it open, Noah didn't glance at the number before responding.
"Hello?"
"Noah, it's me." Luke said, his voice loud, as if he was talking over people. "I know you're at Java, but is there any chance that you could come home? Things are a mess, and I- I just, I don't know, I just… you know what? Nevermind. I'm being stupid; I can wait a couple hours to see you."
"Luke, wait!" Noah yelled, hoping that the guilt he was feeling didn't show in his voice. "I'm almost done, anyways. I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay?"
"But Noah, your shift can't be over." Luke said, "I can't let you blow off work. I'll be okay." Luke's voice held no conviction in it, and Noah couldn't believe that his boyfriend thought that he'd believe him.
"Luke, it's fine. They-" the lie briefly caught in Noah's throat, "they don't need me here; my manager was going to send me home, anyways." Hearing Luke take a slow breath, Noah cut off whatever he was about to say. "Don't argue with me, Luke. I want to see you, too. I'll be there as soon as I can. I love you."
"I love you too, Noah. Bye" Luke whispered, before a dial tone filled Noah's ears. Throwing his phone on the couch, Noah watched it bounce twice before staying still. He sat down, rubbing his hands over his face. It's official – I lied to him. Guilt clung to Noah, and his lies left a heavy taste in his mouth, but he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.
Picking up his phone, Noah began to dial Dallas's number to ask him about Kevin's sobriety the night of the accident. Four digits in, he snapped his phone shut and tucked both the cell and the business card back into his pocket. I can deal with this later. I need to get back to Luke, now.
With that thought firmly in mind, Noah practically ran out of the cottage, barely remembering to lock the door and hide the key before he was off, hoping that his feeling of guilt would fade by the time he reached the farm.
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