Shades of Passion

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

AS THE WELCOME HOME homeless shelter came into view, Nina’s eyes widened.

“What the hell?” Simon exploded.

Three black-and-whites were parked zigzag up and down the street. Uniformed police officers were attempting to push back the gathering crowd on the sidewalk while two more stood directly in front of the shelter talking heatedly with Elaina Scott and a gray-haired man wearing a blue polo shirt. Simon remembered seeing the man in the office the first time he’d visited the shelter.

The shelter itself looked reminiscent of bedlam. From open windows and the doorway, the inhabitants were shouting. Some even looked to be crying.

Simon threw his car into Park. Nina had her seat belt off and the door opened even before Simon turned off the ignition.

“Stay in the car!” Simon yelled at her.

She ignored his order, and instead hit the sidewalk. “I can help,” she threw out over her shoulder.

“Damn it, Nina!” He caught her arm and pulled her to a stop before she’d taken more than five steps. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t you ever separate yourself from me like that again. Not when we’re on a call.” He shook her slightly. “Do you understand me?”

She immediately looked penitent for worrying him. “Whoa. Okay, Simon. I’m sorry. I just—”

“You just were thinking of others more than you were thinking of yourself. But that is not acceptable. You do it again, and I will haul your ass out of here immediately. Got it?”

“Got it,” she said quietly.

He stared at her, saw that she was serious then let her go. “I see the director. Let’s go.”

As Simon walked toward Elaina Scott, the man in the blue polo shirt walked inside the shelter. Of course, he immediately wondered why. If he was avoiding Simon for some reason. He’d make sure to talk to the man. But first he had to get his head on straight.

Simon took a calming breath, cursing the panic he’d felt at seeing Nina run into the crowd. All he’d been able to think about was that she would be hurt. And it would be his fault. And how he’d be grieving the loss of another woman he cared about. The loss of another woman who loved him. And no matter what she’d said earlier about having said the words during sex, Simon wasn’t buying it. It hadn’t been the sex talking. It hadn’t even been the stress over everything that had been happening talking.

She’d meant those words at the time she’d said them.

What was crazy was they hadn’t scared him. He’d wanted to hear her say them again. And again.

Only now wasn’t the time to be thinking about any of this. He had a job to do, damn it. Ruthlessly, he shoved thoughts of Nina and words of love and fear of losing her out of his mind.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Simon asked the patrol officer standing to Elaina’s right.

“One of the officers showed up to interview the director and the residents about a 245. The occupants started getting agitated. Shouting that a cop was trying to murder them all. Backup was called. We’re trying to calm the situation down, but—”

“Have all the people inside been screened for weapons?” Simon asked as he turned to Scott.

“Residents are screened for weapons before they’re allowed to stay here. I told the officers that. They’re upset, but they’re no threat. I want these cops out of here. Now.”

Simon glanced at Nina, who nodded and said, “I agree. Tell all of the uniformed officers to step back a good fifty yards. Give these people some space. This is their home—the only home they know. Police are supposed to make people feel safe, not afraid. Make them do their job.”

“Right. Officer, you heard her. Let’s go.” Simon’s orders for the officers to back off were met with a few glances of disapproval, but no one fought him. Once the police presence had been significantly withdrawn, the shouts and cries inside the house faded.

Simon turned toward Elaina. “I was told you wanted to speak to me specifically. Before I visited the victim at the hospital. Why?”

“First, tell me who this is,” Elaina said, nodding toward Nina.

“Dr. Nina Whitaker. She’s a psychiatrist currently working with the department.”

Scott nodded. “So it’s true. She helped you find that missing girl. She’s consulting with the police about how to work more effectively with the mentally ill.”

“She’s observing us and giving us a recommendation for a new training program. And yes, she helped us find a little girl. Now why did you want to see me?”

“I wouldn’t have. Not if I hadn’t heard about the work you were doing with Dr. Whitaker. But hearing that has given me hope that I initially misjudged you. That we can trust you.”

“You can trust me, Ms. Scott. I only want to help.”

Scott looked a Nina, who nodded. “It’s true. He’s a good cop, Ms. Scott.”

The woman took a deep breath. “Okay. The reason I wanted to talk to you is that there’s a witness. Someone who says a cop was responsible for the attack on a young man.”

“A homeless man that was staying here?”

“A homeless—? No, Nelson Conrad isn’t homeless. He’s a volunteer here.”

“The man that you were just talking to. With the blue polo shirt. Is he a volunteer, too?”

“He provides security here, but he’s not the one you want to talk to. One of our residents saw the person who attacked Nelson.”

A true eyewitness, Simon thought. Finally, maybe, they were going to catch a break in the case. “Okay. And where’s the witness now?” Simon asked.

Scott tipped her chin, pointing toward the homeless shelter. “She’s hiding inside. She’d agreed to talk to you, but after the police got here...well, she’s scared. She’s refusing to come out. Refusing to talk to you.”

“If she’s a witness to the crime, she doesn’t have any choice in the matter,” Simon said.

Scott narrowed her eyes. “Now, listen here—”

“He has to talk to her,” Nina interjected. “You know that. It’s why you called him. But we don’t want to frighten this witness any more. Perhaps I can help?”

“How?”

“By gaining her trust and not adding to her fear.”

She looked at Simon, who nodded.

Nina backed up two steps so she had a full view of the crowd still gathered inside the house, peering out the windows and through the door. She opened up the front of her jacket and pulled it wide, then reached inside an interior pocket and pulled out her hospital ID. She held it up over her head slowly, calmly and said in a firm yet gentle voice, “I am not with the police. I am a doctor. The man I am with—” she pointed to Simon “—he is with the police, but he’s a detective. His job is to figure out who is hurting you, even if the person hurting you is a cop. My job is to make sure you are safe.”

She put her ID back in her pocket and lowered her arms.

They waited.

There was jostling at the doorway as some of the residents backed away, allowing an elderly woman draped in a faded Peruvian poncho to come forward.

“You and your detective may enter. None of the others. We will tell only you,” the woman said, pointing directly at Nina.

Simon felt a sense of relief and pride at the way Nina had defused the situation. He was, however, still pissed that she’d gone off half-cocked, running straight into what could have been a dangerous situation. The two of them were definitely going to have further discussion about that. First, however, he had a witness to interview.

The woman in the poncho was named Mary. Just Mary. Elaina Scott didn’t know her last name and the woman refused to give it.

“I heard Nelson screaming,” Mary said. “Saw the man over him and chased him off.”

Simon raised his brows in surprise, which caused Mary to laugh. “I may be old and creaky, Detective, but I never smoked a day in my life, and I’ve got good lungs. You can hear me shout from practically one end of the park to the other.”

He grinned. “So you hollered and the attacker went running?”

“Somethin’ like that. Just wish I’d gotten there sooner,” she added, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I was supposed to meet him. Meet him near the Japanese Tea Garden, but I was late.”

“Mary, Ms. Scott told me Nelson was a volunteer here. Did you meet with him often?”

“No. But he said he was doing something near the park. And he promised to show me the Tea Garden.”

“Do you know what he was doing near the park?”

“No. He didn’t tell me.”

“Okay. So you went to meet him. And what happened?”

“I was late. But when I got there, I saw—I saw—”

“What did you see, Mary?”

Mary brought her shoulders in closer together and curled inward. Several minutes of silence ticked by.

Simon started to speak, but silenced himself when he caught sight of Nina’s subtle headshake.

Give the woman space. Distance. Time to pull herself together. Don’t push.

He could practically hear Nina’s unspoken words in his head.

So he waited, watching Mary breathe in and out, in and out, until her shoulders went back to square. She took one last shuddering breath and said, “He had a knife. He carved up poor Nelson. On his back. Initials. It was so bloody.”

This time it was Nina who inhaled sharply and Simon who gave her the “hold back” hand gesture. He heard the murmur of voices in the distance, the squeaky sound of rubber soles on the vinyl and someone’s cell phone ringing, but still he waited.

“Did you see the initials? Can you tell me what they were, Mary?”

“There were four letters.”

Of course, but he had to ask anyway. “What were they?”

“BDSG.”

* * *

SOMETHING WAS WRONG, Nina thought, then cursed herself.

Of course something was wrong. Someone was murdering people and carving them up like woodshop projects. What she meant was something was wrong with Simon. He’d completely withdrawn from her. Holed up inside himself and emotionally retreated from her in a way he never had before. Always before, when something traumatic like this had happened, he’d been there, a rock for her to lean on. Reassuring her that everything was going to be okay. But now that he was dealing with the realization that he might be personally mixed-up with these murders—at least, she assumed that was the case given Mary’s revelation that the initials SG had been carved into Nelson Conrad’s back—he was acting shell-shocked.

It was her turn to be his rock to lean on.

“Simon,” she said gently. “What are you thinking?” She really wanted to ask him further what he was feeling, but she was afraid those loaded words would cause him to retreat even further inside himself.

“What?” he said, looking at her, eyes clearing as if he’d forgotten she was even there, in the car with him. “I’m thinking this has got to stop. Only I’ve been trying to make it stop since before I met you, and this guy has been one step ahead of me the entire time.”

“This guy, meaning Davenport?”

Simon shook his head. “No. It’s not him. He didn’t do this. We’ve had an officer on him ever since he was bailed out. This is pretty much going to clear him for the other two murders, as well.”

“It’s still possible that he hired someone. Or that Hyatt did.”

“Possible, sure. Anything’s possible,” he said gruffly. “But it doesn’t make sense anymore. It doesn’t feel right. Even before we found those other footprints in your house, it never quite did. Aside from the initials that link these crimes, my gut is telling me that Davenport and Hyatt are exactly what they appear to be. They’re pissed at the world because of what happened to their daughters. Maybe my mistake has been in assuming these murders were about you in the first place.”

“You had reason to believe that because of the initials he left behind. On Six. On those men.”

“Yeah, well now he’s left my initials. Given I’m the lead detective on this case, it’s obviously not coincidence. He’s telling me something. And maybe what he’s telling me is that I’ve been the wild card in this all along. That the only reason he dragged you into this in the first place was because of your work with the police. With me.”

He probably didn’t even realize it, but his expression and tone were laced with horror. Lana, she thought. His ex-girlfriend had been killed less than a year ago. He probably viewed this new threat as his nightmare come back to haunt him all over again.

They arrived back at his place and got out of the car. When they got inside, Nina took him by the arms, trying to ground him in the here and now.

She wasn’t dead. She was here. Alive and protected because of him.

“Even if this person is targeting you, Simon, it doesn’t make these murders your fault. You’ve been telling me that this whole time, and you need to listen to yourself. If you’re having trouble remembering that, I’m here to remind you. You can lean on me now, just like you’ve allowed me to lean on you.”

He stared at her with a slight frown on his face, almost as if she wasn’t speaking English. Slowly, he said, “I appreciate that.”

The words themselves didn’t alarm her, but the way he said them, and the way he wouldn’t look at her as he did so, did.

“What’s going on here, Simon?”

He took several steps away from her, causing her hands to fall away from him. “You were right before, Nina. About things having to end between us. We let our mutual attraction get out of hand because of all the things that have been happening.”

“And what? Now that you think you’re personally connected to these murders, things are somehow different and you’re suddenly willing to agree with me?”

“I don’t want to pull you into this more than you already are, Nina. If someone is targeting you because of me, then the best way to protect you is to get you away from me.”

His words made sense, but his timing and the detached manner with which he spoke made her instinctively rebel against them. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?”

“What else would it be about?”

She threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I said I loved you before. Maybe hearing that freaked you out.”

“So what if it did?” he snapped, his eyes momentarily flaring with anger. “It freaked you out, too. So much so that you attributed your words to a really good orgasm.”

“That’s because it scared me. How much I was starting to care for you. But whether we call it love or not, whether it was the sex talking or not, I do care about you, Simon. I need you to know that.”

“I do know it,” he said quietly. “And you know I care about you, too.”

“But you want to walk away from me. After everything we’ve been through together? Just like that? Before you’ve even caught the person responsible for the murders? You’re determined to do what? Leave me alone? Hand me off to another protective detail?” Because I won’t feel safe, Nina thought. Not the way she felt when she was with him.

“Besides the cards and letters, there hasn’t been a direct threat against you,” he reminded her. “I can call in favors. Talk to the members on my team. They’ll help me out. For now? You mentioned your friend Karen before. Can you stay with her? I have to go to this fundraising gala, anyway. It’s not social. It’s work. If I can, I’ll have a patrol officer drive by Karen’s house to check on you.”

“And what about next week? I have to go back to work, too, remember? Will there be a patrol officer checking in on me there, as well?”

“We’ll do the best we can to make sure you’re safe.”

“Physically, yes,” she said almost bitterly.

Her bitterness punched a hole in his composure. Once again, his eyes flared with emotion, but just as he had before, he quickly banked it. “Damn it, this isn’t easy for me. I’m trying to do the right thing here and that means protecting you. If I have a target on my back, I don’t want you anywhere near me.”

“Fine,” Nina said, instinctively responding to his desire for separation when before he’d sworn he wouldn’t leave her alone. It didn’t matter what his motivation was; her heart was bleeding. “Then I’ll be sure to stay as far away from you as possible.”