Shades of Passion (17 page)

“Stop this, Anne. You’re such a bad daughter! I’m your father and you will listen to me. Damn it, put the knife down.”

Fucker. Didn’t Anne’s father realize his daughter was about to blow? That this time she wouldn’t just be hurting herself, but someone else? Simon shoved the man back with his shoulder and into Harrison’s iron grip. Without turning his focus away from Nina, he ground out, “Harrison, get Anne’s parents out of here. Now.”

When Officer Harrison and Anne’s parents were gone, Simon turned back to Anne.

She was trembling and breathing heavily. Nina, despite her best efforts to remain calm, looked scared.

“Listen to me, Anne. You’re frightening Nina. You need to let her go now.”

“I don’t want to see my father.” Anne whimpered, her eyes wild.

“No one’s going to make you see him,” Simon said. His gaze assessed the distance between him and Anne, and he weighed the risk of Tasering her while she still held Nina.

Nina obviously sensed his intentions. “It’s okay, Simon. Just stay back. Remember what I said about giving Anne some space. She and I are going to talk. Can you take a few steps back?”

He frowned, his gaze on the knife at her side. He was so damn angry with her he could barely see straight. She’d deliberately disregarded all his earlier warnings about not placing herself in danger, and damn it, he’d let her. He’d trusted her. Let down his guard because he’d known how shaken she’d be at Anne’s situation, and that had shaken him, as well.

But while she had a knife to her side at the moment, that knife hadn’t been there before Anne’s father had called out. Fact was, she had been making progress before the man had shown up. She and the girl had been walking toward them, the girl’s face relaxed, her breathing even. She’d calmed the girl down once. Maybe she could calm Anne down again.

His instincts told him he’d trusted her for a reason. They told him to do it again. Finally, he determined he had no real choice.

Simon took several steps back, but he didn’t leave.

“Your father,” Nina said, even though her gaze remained locked with Simon’s. “He scares you, Anne?”

The girl sobbed. “Yes.”

“Okay. I understand. But he’s gone. Simon won’t let him inside. And I don’t scare you, do I? We were talking. Getting along. You don’t want to hurt me, do you?”

Anne shook her head. “No. Just—just keep my father away from me. I don’t want to see him. I can’t breathe when I see him. He tells me what to do. What to eat. What to wear. What to say. Where to look. It’s like he’s choking me. I can’t live. Not like this.”

“Okay. I’m going to help you. I promise. But you need to let me go. Can you do that? Please.”

After a tense prolonged moment of silence, she lowered the knife and released her death grip on Nina. Instead of immediately leaving, however, Nina turned back toward Anne.

“Thank you, Anne. Now, let’s put down the knife and walk on over to Detective Granger. He’s a good man and he’s going to make sure your father doesn’t interrupt us again.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

N
INA SPENT SEVERAL HOURS
talking to Anne. Although there was no evidence that her father was guilty of anything more than being a controlling asshole, he had no say over what happened next. Anne had tried to hurt herself and was legally required to be evaluated by a mental health professional. One that wouldn’t be Nina, since she would technically be classified as a witness. Nonetheless, Nina made sure the girl had her phone number along with the names of several counselors that Nina respected. Officer Harrison then drove Anne to the hospital, but before he did, Anne gave Nina a prolonged hug. The entire time, Simon stayed close, restless energy radiating off him like a raging fire.

Nina fought back gruesome memories of Beth and Rachel. This time, she’d helped. This time, no one had died. She’d been lucky. Lucky that Simon had decided to trust her and let her handle Anne as she saw fit. And lucky that things had worked out.

Simon, however, didn’t look like he felt lucky. He just drove, grim-faced and stiff.

Finally, the tense silence between them suddenly became too much for Nina to bear. She placed a hand on his thigh, forcing herself not to flinch when the muscles there bunched along with those in his jaw. He was vibrating, she realized. With residual anger? Fear? Both?

His girlfriend had been killed by a serial murderer. Simon believed that the reason she’d been killed was directly linked to her chosen profession. Anne hadn’t been a serial murderer, but she’d turned out to be a threat to Nina nonetheless. Had Simon thought of Lana in that moment? Had he wondered whether he would be responsible for yet another woman’s death? Because there was no doubt in her mind that Simon blamed himself for Lana’s death, just as he blamed himself for letting Anne Stanley get too close to Nina.

“Do you want to talk about what happened back there?” Nina asked. “Why Anne felt she had no choice but to use me as a shield?”

The leather wrap on the steering wheel squeaked as Simon squeezed harder. “I don’t really care why she went all wacko with a knife. That’s her business, not mine. I care more that she endangered you, and that you undermined my authority. That you refused to listen to me when I told you not the enter that room. This isn’t a fucking game, Nina. These are life-and-death situations, situations I’m trained to handle—”

“I’m trained to handle them, too. We simply disagreed about how to handle this particular situation. But you did the right thing by listening to me, Simon. And listening to yourself. Your gut told you to give Anne a chance.”

“My gut was swayed by you!” He slapped his hand against the wheel. “And look what happened. You were almost killed.”

“That’s an exaggeration—”

“Her knife pierced your fucking skin!”

“A slight cut. Nothing more. I wasn’t truly hurt. No, in this particular case, de-escalation didn’t work, not perfectly. A bad thing almost happened. But it didn’t. Even if it had, it doesn’t mean what we did wasn’t warranted. We can do everything by the book and still have horrible things happen. You know that. You can’t stop trusting your instincts because things don’t go perfectly.”

“My instincts are exactly what you’re trying to stop me and other officers from listening to.”

“That’s not true. The training I’m talking about will simply enable your men to have more information to work with. To assess the situation with. The way Officer Harrison was crowding Anne was making the situation worse. You instinctively knew that and—”

He cursed and suddenly swerved the car to the side of the road. He turned toward her, his arm against the back of the seat. “Instinct only goes so far. What if my instincts are telling me two different things?”

“Then you make the most reasoned decision that you can.”

“What if my instincts are telling me to pull away from you and pull you closer at the same time? What if they’re saying to back away because I don’t like your profession or the fact that you’re willing to endanger yourself the way Lana was? But what if they also refuse to let me forget the feel of your mouth under mine? Or the feel of your body pressed against me? What if they want me to kiss you again? Right here? Right now?”

She stared at him, her body trembling, her heart racing. She licked her lips and tried to think. “Again, you do the best you can. You reason things out. We’re attracted to each other and right now that attraction’s been heightened by the adrenaline spike we encountered back there. But we’re working together, and you don’t respect what I do, so reason tells us that you should follow your instinct not to kiss me.”

“And you always do the reasonable thing?”

She smirked. “Oh, come on. After the way I dared you to kiss me the other day, you’re actually going to ask me that question?”

“Dare me to kiss you again,” he whispered, his gaze flickering to her lips.

And God, how she wanted to. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she ruthlessly held them back.

She shook her head. “I can’t. It—it wouldn’t be professional.”

For a minute, he looked at her as if he wasn’t convinced. As if he was going to pull her into his arms and kiss her and maybe even do more. Instead, he took a breath, turned away and quietly pulled back onto the road.

They were silent for several minutes, each unwilling to risk breaking the tension between them lest it unleash a tidal wave of emotions and desire.

“I called a friend of mine in Charleston,” she finally said.

He glanced at her.

“Molly’s husband is a cop. He—he did some checking around, and he says Beth’s father is still there. A neighbor of his said she’d seen him just last night.”

He grunted. Then said, “I know. I put out feelers about him and was told the same thing. I also got a call earlier. While you were talking to Anne. There weren’t any fingerprints on the letter but yours. But Davenport could have hired someone to deliver the letter and that person could have worn gloves while doing so. Or he could have flown to California and back in one day. It doesn’t sound like my source or your friend’s husband saw him for themselves. I’ll call the local P.D. and have a patrol car stop by and try to contact him directly. I’ll also double-check travel records when we get back to the office.”

“That seems like a lot of effort. I know how busy you are. How short-staffed. That isn’t necessary.”

He turned a dark expression on her. “Yes. It is.”

As they got closer to SIG headquarters, he asked, “You want to come in or—”

“No, I think I’ll just head back home.”

“Where’s your car?”

“Down a couple of blocks in a public parking lot.”

It didn’t take long for them to reach Nina’s old clunker. He turned the ignition of his own vehicle off but didn’t remove the key.

“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow? Same time?”

He nodded.

She shoved the passenger-side door open and walked to her car. Behind her, she heard him call, “I’ll follow you home.”

She stopped and shook her head, turning around to face him. “That’s not—”

“Necessary. I know. But I’ll do it anyway.”

Remembering the scare she and Anne had caused him, she shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she muttered.

But when she tried to start her car, the engine wouldn’t turn over. Groaning, she rested her forehead against the steering wheel for a second before she sensed him standing next to her door.

“Want me to jump you?” he asked.

Her head snapped up. He was smiling again. Showcasing that fabulous sense of humor of his despite the tense circumstances they’d just experienced. His smile loosened the tight muscles that had clenched inside her stomach ever since the confrontation with Anne Stanley.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said.

He grinned full-out now, making him look years younger. Then his gaze flickered to the backseat of her car and he stiffened. “Shit.”

With a frown, she began to turn, but he reached out and stayed her. “Don’t look.”

She kept her gaze straight ahead even as she asked, “But why?”

He yanked open the back door and leaned into the car. “Someone left something for you.”

“What?”

He hesitated.

She whirled around in her seat to look, but Simon’s large shoulders blocked her view.

“What is it, Simon?” she demanded.

“A dead cat.”

“What?” she gasped out. “What does it look like?”

Had Six crawled into her car and died of heat exposure? She’d never forgive herself if she had.

“Nina, I’m sorry. This cat looks exactly like yours. Down to its sixth toe. It’s your cat.”

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “I don’t remember leaving the windows open. I don’t know how she could have gotten in here.”

“She didn’t climb into the car on her own,” Simon ground out. He turned and faced her, and for the first time she could see Six. She wasn’t simply dead, she was bloody. “Nina, someone used your cat to leave you a message.”

* * *

N
INA HAD FELT BONE-CRUSHING,
mind-numbing grief before.

Losing her cat didn’t make her feel anything like she’d felt when she’d lost Rachel. Or when Beth had committed suicide. But it still hurt.

In her gut. In her soul. She ached for the small animal that had been her companion. But even more so, she hated being reminded humans could do such horrible things. And she hated the fear that had seeped into her very being. Fear at what might happen next.

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Simon insisted even as he pulled up in front of her house. “Let me take you to a hotel. At least until I can talk to Charleston P.D. I need to know for myself where Lester Davenport is. I need to know he won’t get to you.”

For a moment, she didn’t understand what he was saying. He wanted her to go to a hotel? Some clinical impersonal space filled with strangers? She cringed at the very thought. “No, Simon.” She tried to explain her desire to be in familiar surroundings. Her need to feel safe in her own home. Reassured that her life wasn’t going to implode due to the actions of one sick individual. But instead she said, “I’m not going to run. Besides, you can’t be sure Lester Davenport left my...my cat there for me to see. I know he’s hurting and fixated on his daughter’s death, but he—he’s never done something like this before. Nothing so violent.”

“He left you a letter telling you that you were going to die! ‘She died and so will you.’ That’s what he wrote and he was obviously referring to his daughter. It makes sense, Nina. More sense than hiding your head in the sand.”

“Refusing to let myself be scared out of my own home is not hiding my head in the sand. I’ll be fine.” She opened the car door and stepped out.

“Do you have a security system?”

“Besides my locks, you mean? I told you my house alarm is broken, remember?”

“Damn it.” He slapped the steering wheel in frustration and stepped out of the car, as well. “Fine. Then I’ll stay, too. I’m sure I’ve never slept in such luxurious accommodations before. It’ll be a good experience for me.”

He said it with confidence and humor, probably hoping to distract her, but she wasn’t going to give in. She couldn’t. Giving in would lead to more giving in, which could very well lead to her collapsing altogether. She couldn’t let that happen. She was strong. She would survive this even if Six hadn’t. And she was going to have to do it without the comforting presence of Simon Granger.