Shades of Passion

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

NINA’S GAZE FRANTICALLY sought out the nearest outer door so she could indeed get the breath of fresh air she’d told Karen she needed. As soon as she spotted one, she shoved through it, stumbling into what appeared to be a narrow loading dock at the back of the building.

With a shaky hand, she propped herself up against an outer wall. Seeing Simon with that woman, leaning so protectively close to her, had wounded something inside her and she wasn’t quite sure how she was ever going to heal. Here she’d been agonizing over his expressed need to stay away from her in order to protect her, and he’d been getting his jollies with another woman. He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. That was the only explanation. Otherwise, how else—

“For God’s sake, don’t look so damn heartbroken. Simon Granger isn’t screwing another woman, he’s on the job. Damn clever bastard.”

At the harsh masculine words, Nina whirled around. In the faint glow of the building’s outer lights, the same man who’d expressed concern for her at the bar stood glaring at her. And pointing a gun at her.

“What are you—?” She stopped herself from continuing. She knew exactly what he was doing. Threatening her. The real question was, “Who are you?”

“No one you know. This isn’t personal. Not for me.”

“You holding a gun to me isn’t personal? You must be angry with me for some reason. Let’s talk about it, please. I—”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t start with your psychobabble mumbo jumbo. I dealt with enough shrinks while I was on the force to recognize it when I hear it.”

“You’re a cop? Then why—” She immediately thought of the homeless men who’d been murdered. And the allegations that Cann had been killed by a police officer.

“I was a cop. Now I’m a damn security guard, having to work for chump change in places like that damn homeless shelter. I have Simon Granger to thank for that.”

“Simon?”

“Before he returned to the streets, he stayed a captain just long enough to cut a police department program for budgetary reasons. I got the ax.”

“But you just acknowledged it wasn’t for personal reasons,” she said. “He was just doing his job.”

He shrugged. “So was I. And I’m going to continue doing it.” He motioned with the gun, clearly directing her to walk away from the building and toward the nearby street. “Come on. Let’s go. Your boyfriend’s going to track us down any second, and I need to get a head start on him. You’re coming with me as my little insurance policy.”

“He’s coming after you? Because he believes you murdered those homeless men? He hasn’t said anything to me about you and we were working together very closely—”

The man grabbed her arm, shoved the gun in her side and started forcibly walking her toward the street. He snorted. “Yeah, I know exactly how close you two have been working. I’ve got to say, the guy impressed me. Despite everything I was throwing at you, he still managed to get you in the sack. Guess your involvement in two teenage suicides wasn’t enough to kill the mood. Did you think of them while he was f*cking you?”

Furiously, Nina tried to wrench away, gasping in pain when he merely tightened his hold.

“Uh-uh. None of that. I’m sure that whore Simon brought as his date has identified me already so let’s just keep moving.”

“The woman...she’s a...”

“A prostitute. And a witness against me. That’s obviously why he brought her here. To try to ID me.”

“And she did,” she said slowly.

“Probably, but you should have seen the look on your face when you saw them. It was priceless, really. I think he hurt you more in that moment than everything I did to you combined. Personally, that’s why I’m single.”

Right, Nina thought darkly. That’s why.

“Ah, good,” the man said. “There’s my car just up ahead. Won’t be too long now before—”

“Harold McGrogen, stop right there.” Simon’s voice suddenly boomed behind them.

The man holding Nina paused and stiffened. Slowly, he turned them both around until they faced Simon. “So you remember me now, huh? Too bad you didn’t the first time you saw me at Welcome Home. But it wouldn’t have mattered. You wouldn’t have suspected me even then. You were too busy chasing Lester Davenport.”

“Put down your weapon,” Simon ordered.

“I don’t think so,” McGrogen answered. “I suggest you put down your weapon before I shoot your girlfriend here.”

Simon looked at Nina and she tried to hide her fear. She wasn’t a fool. She was terrified that she was going to get hurt. That the man was going to shoot her before Simon could stop him. But Harold McGrogen was banking on her fear and Simon’s fear for her to keep them predictable. To make them mess up and enable him to get away. She could at least deny him that.

“Harold, listen to me,” he said in a low voice, though it was obviously tight with tension. “I want to help you.”

McGrogen laughed. “Wow, this is hilarious. Seriously, Granger? You’re trying to talk me down with de-escalation techniques? Use my name? Convince me that you’re not a threat? So that what? I surrender and spend the rest of my days in prison?” He scowled. “No thanks. You might as well shoot me now and get it over with. Or try to, at least,” he said and laughed.

“Hey, whash—whash goin’ on here?”

At the sound of DeMarco’s voice behind them, Nina jerked.

McGrogen whirled, keeping his gun on Nina but turning to the side as he tried to keep an eye on both Simon and DeMarco, who was staggering slightly.

“What ya doing out here? The party’s insi—inshide.”

Was he drunk? Nina wondered. Or simply pretending to be?

“Get the hell out of here,” McGrogen snapped, obviously believing DeMarco was drunk and apparently not realizing he was a law enforcement officer. Why would he? DeMarco was wearing a tux, was playing the drunk and it was conceivable McGrogen had never met or heard of him. Wasn’t it?

She glanced at Simon, whose gaze mets hers. Instinctively, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

“Don’ be like that, man. I jus’ wanna—” DeMarco stumbled closer and McGrogen fired.

The retort of the gun blasted in Nina’s ears and her body jerked along with McGrogen’s arm.

Nina screamed as DeMarco fell to the ground.

“No!” Her cry echoed Simon’s.

McGrogen still held her against him, using her as a human shield. She saw Simon look at DeMarco, who was lying still on the ground. Saw his agony at being unable to shoot McGrogen because he didn’t want to risk hurting her.

“What the hell have you done, McGrogen? You just shot an unarmed man in front of me. Taking Nina with you to ensure you got away, I can understand. What do you think you’re gonna do now? Shoot me, too? Kill me?”

“Shut up! He was coming at me. I had no choice, damn it.”

“Of course you did! And you have a choice now. Let Nina go. She’s a doctor! Let her take a look at him. Stop the bleeding. Now! Before the man dies.”

She felt McGrogen hesitate, then he dragged her closer to DeMarco’s body. “I’m keeping my gun on her. I swear to God if you try anything, I’ll shoot her. I have nothing to lose here, Granger, and you know it.”

As soon as McGrogen loosened his grip on her, Nina knelt beside DeMarco. Oh, God, there was so much blood, but at least the bullet had hit him high on the shoulder and not in any vital organs. Nina pressed her hands to the wound, trying to stanch the blood. To her surprise, when she glanced at DeMarco’s face, he was gritting his teeth with pain but looking at her with clear eyes. Yes, he’d been faking being drunk. Trying to buy her and Simon some time. And what had happened? He’d been shot. Because of her.

She instantly shoved that thought from her mind.

No! DeMarco hadn’t been shot because of her, but because McGrogen was a dangerous criminal. She’d taken enough blame in her life. She wasn’t taking this on, too. But what could she do? How was she going to make sure she, DeMarco and Simon got out of this alive?

“Why, Harold?” Simon asked. “You were a good cop. All this because you’re pissed I shut down the retired annuitant program? You know that was a decision I made for the good of the department.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about the good of the department,” McGrogen spit out. “I was a cop, and because of you, I’m a f*cking security guard now. I was working with a bunch of crazies and bleeding hearts at the homeless shelter. How do you think that made me feel?”

“Like you were doing something worthwhile?”

McGrogen snorted in disdain just as DeMarco moved his hand toward his right pocket. His silent gaze warned her to remain silent. Still. She understood immediately. Surreptitiously, her entire body stiff and trembling with fear, ever aware that although he wasn’t looking at her, McGrogen still had his gun pointed at her, she shifted her body to cover what he was doing. Simon carried a gun in a pocket holster when he was off duty. Maybe DeMarco did, too.

Unfortunately, DeMarco had been shot in the right shoulder, his shooting arm, and even as he tried to withdraw his piece, his movements were slow. Awkward. His face was awash with sweat and he was gritting his teeth in pain. Any second and he was going to pass out. He wasn’t going to be able to do it, she realized. Not before McGrogen caught him and shot them both.

Carefully, she reached into DeMarco’s pocket and extracted the gun herself. His gaze shot to hers, but when she just looked steadily back, he nodded slightly, indicating he understood.

She glanced at Simon, whose gaze remained on McGrogen’s. Had he seen what they were doing? She couldn’t tell. All she knew was that this was her one chance to take McGrogen off guard. But could she do it? Shoot a man even though she’d taken an oath to do no harm?

She struggled with herself. With everything she believed in. She thought about Beth and Rachel and even Mrs. Horowitz and how death, while inevitable, still often came too early. Sometimes that just couldn’t be helped. And right or wrong, her decision to shoot McGrogen was made easier by her belief that this man was probably a sociopath. It didn’t mean she didn’t feel sorry for him, but it also made her realize he was broken. Unable to be fixed. At least, she was going with that assumption until proven otherwise.

Before she could lose her nerve, Nina lifted her arm to shoot.

* * *

SIMON HAD EXTREMELY good peripheral vision and he could see everything as Nina removed DeMarco’s off-duty piece from his pocket and braced herself to shoot McGrogen. Damn it, no, he thought. His first thought was that even if she was able to shoot him, McGrogen would automatically fire the gun he still had pointed at Nina. His second thought was he didn’t want the trauma of having to shoot the man on Nina’s conscience.

He’d tried, Simon thought. Even after McGrogen had shot DeMarco, Simon had tried one last time to talk him down. But seeing Nina’s covert movements plainly told him something—either she didn’t think he had the skill to talk McGrogen down, or she believed McGrogen couldn’t be talked down. In the end, it didn’t really matter.

He’d had a bead on McGrogen’s face the whole time, on the space within that imaginary triangle formed by the corners of each eye and his chin. As a former cop, McGrogen would know it, yet he still looked at Simon, his gaze off of his best chance at escaping this situation—Nina.

His gaze suspiciously off Nina, Simon thought suddenly.

And sure enough, at that very moment, McGrogen’s gun arm drifted slightly to the right, away from his hostages.

Thoughts flashed through Simon’s mind. Though he hadn’t actually ever met the man before tonight, he’d reviewed McGrogen’s records before making the decision to shut down the retired annuitant program. As such, he knew how experienced McGrogen was. He was a seasoned cop and he’d been a good cop, too. He’d know he’d just given Simon an easy shot.

And that told Simon McGrogen wanted Simon to shoot him. That McGrogen didn’t want to be taken into custody. Didn’t want to have to live with the consequences of what he’d done.

Suicide by cop.

But Simon wasn’t giving the man that easy out.

He felt fear for them all. For Nina. For DeMarco. For himself.

But he had to take his chances. He needed to do something now.

So before Nina could fire DeMarco’s piece, Simon shot first.

He shot McGrogen in his right shoulder, knowing when he did, the impact would push his weapon even farther away from Nina. Sure enough, the moment the bullet hit him, McGrogen went flying backward and landed on the pavement.

“Stay down,” Simon shouted, the command meant for both McGrogen and Nina. Within seconds, he was standing over McGrogen’s body, his gun trained on him. A quick glance at Nina confirmed she still crouched over DeMarco, his gun still in her hand.

Their eyes met and held for a second, but then she dropped DeMarco’s gun and began ripping at his shirt and dealing with his wounds. “He shot him in the shoulder,” she called over her shoulder. “The wound’s not fatal but we need to get him to a hospital.”

Simon felt relief swamp him. He turned back to McGrogen, who was lying on the ground, eyes closed. “Why?” the other man moaned. “Why didn’t you shoot to kill me?”

So Simon had been right. McGrogen had wanted to commit suicide.

“Wasn’t going to happen,” he said to McGrogen. “You have several crimes to answer for, including the murders of Louis Cann and John Hastings. You’ve got a long legal case in front of you. And I want to make sure you enjoy every single second of it.”

Flipping McGrogen to his stomach, Simon cuffed him, probably taking a little too much pleasure in the man’s groans of pain. “Harold McGrogen, you’re under arrest for the murders of Louis Cann and...”

The door behind them banged open and several people, including Stevens, Archer, the mayor and Jase—who, along with Carrie, had been covering Simon’s back inside—exited the building. Jase and Stevens immediately rushed to Nina and DeMarco’s side.

“Jase?” Simon called. “Rita Taylor?”

“She’s with Carrie,” he said. “She took her out the front when DeMarco headed out that way. I kept an eye on things inside to make sure they didn’t pose a problem for you.”

Meaning he’d kept an eye on Gil Archer, just as Simon had asked him, too. He nodded his thanks to Jase, turning when Stevens said, “Granger, get your ass over here and tell me what the hell is going on.”

Simon complied, but only told him part of the story. He’d tell him the rest, but only when Gil Archer was no longer within earshot. As it was now, Simon kept his guard up and his gaze on the man, but he acted normal, assisting Stevens and the others any way he could. Within minutes, the ambulance came and took DeMarco away. First, however, Simon spoke to his friend. “Thank you,” he said simply, placing a hand on DeMarco’s uninjured shoulder.

DeMarco nodded weakly. “I’d say anytime, but I’m really hoping that’s not the case. My date’s inside, probably wondering where I went. Will you let her know I’ll call her?”

“I’m betting I won’t have to. She’s a doctor, right? She’ll probably head to the hospital as soon as she knows. And I’ll see you there myself,” Simon said.

“Sounds good,” DeMarco breathed and then was whisked away.

Simon immediately sought out Nina, who was standing next to Stevens, talking to him and Archer, the man he’d suspected of murder.

And despite everything, despite Rita Taylor’s failure to identify Archer, despite what had just happened with McGrogen, Simon, in his gut, still believed it to be true.