Simon Says... Ride (Kate Morgan Thrillers Book 3)

by Dale Mayer

  “I get that, and I’m really happy you guys had that.” Kate frowned, pausing. “It’s nothing I’ve ever really had a chance to experience. I’ve been close with my former partner, but it’s not the same thing. I didn’t do anything with him and his family. I didn’t have that kind of relationship.”

  “No, but it was respectful, right?” she asked, with a questioning note.

  “Very.” She smiled. “We had broken up before I made this move. He was happy for me when I made detective, even more so when I got this job.”

  “Good. Yet how would he have been if you two were still together? He might not have been so happy. All too often, some of these guys don’t really like it when you move on and up.”

  “I don’t think they consider it on and up. It was definitely a shift. It’s not like it’s a promotion.”

  “No, but it’s not easy to get, and, then when you make it, it is something to be celebrated. We didn’t do that for you, and I’m sorry about that.”

  Kate shrugged. “Don’t worry about that. It’s not like school, and I don’t need a reward every time I achieve something in life. It was enough to know that I’d made it.”

  Lilliana smiled. “One of these days we’ll have to go to the pub and have a beer, at least take a few minutes and connect a bit more. We need to celebrate the wins that we do have.” She followed her words with a yawn. At that point she groaned. “We were here late last night. I may have to go home after all. I was really hoping to stay and to get through some more of this, but it might have to wait.”

  “Take it home and see how you feel when you get there,” Kate said.

  “I could, but I’m supposed to be meeting that partner later tonight.”

  “Ah. That’s the thing about partners,” she said. “They tend to screw up your plans.”

  At that, Lilliana chuckled, stood, and grabbed her jacket. “You know that tomorrow will be another day.”

  “I know,” Kate said, “but how do you reconcile that with the reality that tomorrow somebody else will be dead too?”

  Lilliana stopped at the doorway, looked at her seriously. “Because that person will be dead whether we do anything about it or not. We can’t save them all, Kate. We can’t even save most of them,” she replied, her tone dropping painfully. “All we can do is the best we can, and that means being sharp and on target ourselves. The quicker you burn out, the harder it’ll be to handle some of these jobs, and there won’t be any tomorrow for them.”

  “I know.” Kate caught Lilliana’s glare directed at her. “No, I really do.”

  Lilliana added, “Ignoring that advice and working yourself to an early grave won’t help anybody.”

  “So? You think I should go home too?”

  “Absolutely. Call Simon back and tell him that you’ll see him. Reconnect with life and find the reason why we’re doing this. Because we can’t keep doing it if we don’t have that passion and that goal anymore.”

  “You’re right. … It’s too hard without that purpose and goal and passion,” Kate said.

  “Yes, it is. There’s got to be that purpose in life, but it can’t overtake your whole existence. It’s all about balance.” And, with that, Lilliana turned and walked out of the bullpen and the building.

  Knowing Rodney was coming back, Kate sat here and waited. But, when Rodney called her instead, she said, “Does this mean you’re not coming back?”

  “No, I’m not actually. I headed out to get food, but I’m not feeling all that great.”

  “I was thinking about going home myself,” she confessed.

  “Do it. I know this case is sitting there, and it’s bothering you. It’s bothering me too, but the odds of somebody else dying because of it tonight are extremely low.”

  “Maybe so, but that doesn’t feel like a good enough reason.”

  “You’re not walking away from the case, and you’re not doing anything more beneficial than anybody else could be doing right now. Remember. We’re part of a team, and part of our mandate is to look after ourselves, so we can come in and do the job again another day.”

  “Got it. I heard the same lecture from Lilliana.”

  “Then listen to your team.” He laughed. “I’ll see you in the morning.” And, with that, Rodney rang off.

  Kate sat here at her desk for a long moment, then got up, closed down everything that needed to be closed down, and walked outside. An ever-so-slight drizzle of rain fell. She tilted her face to the sky and let the drops fall on her, absorbing the freshness, the moisture, the cleanliness.

  Even though she was in a big city, and the world sucked sometimes, it was important for her to stand here and to just reconnect. She was a water baby and absolutely adored Mother Nature, even at her shittiest. Standing here, right now, in the pouring rain, many people would probably say that this was an example of a crappy time when Mother Nature was not being her best, but Kate loved it; she absolutely loved it. She turned toward her vehicle and drove home, wondering if she should do a workout. She probably should, but she was also tired. The trouble was, she also knew a workout would invigorate her. She checked the time and winced when she saw how late it was. She better just go straight home. As she neared her apartment, almost there, her phone rang.

  “Where are you?” Simon asked.

  “I’m almost home. I was thinking about going for a workout, but trying to convince myself isn’t exactly making it happen.”

  “Sometimes you just need a break and the chance to rest and relax.”

  “That’s why I’m thinking of walking in the rain.” She smiled about that. “How are you doing? Sorry I canceled earlier.”

  “It’s okay.”

  But something was off in his voice. “What’s the matter, Simon?” Her voice sharpened, as she stopped, parked, and locked up her vehicle. “Did something happen?’

  “Yeah, what else?” His tone was hard. “Shit’s always happening in my world.”

  She froze. “Have you connected with something?”

  “I don’t know what I’m connecting with, but it’s like my sense of smell is on overdrive.”

  “That could be a good thing,” she said lightly.

  “Holding a beer in my hand right now is a good thing. I can smell the hops like it’s ten times the strength of what I was thinking it was. But, on the other hand, going to the washroom, walking in back alleys, the traffic with its carbon monoxide, and the smog, not so good.”

  “Are you at home then?”

  “Yeah. I was at the coffee shop when I talked to you earlier. I stayed for a little bit longer, realized my nose was acting up, and I headed home. By the time I got here, honest to God, it was all I could do to get into the apartment and to shut the door to keep out all the scents of the city.”

  “And did it work?”

  “No,” he snapped. “The Italian food I ate for lunch became this overwhelming aroma that I wanted to just dive into, but, after three or four bites, it’s like I couldn’t handle it anymore. So I brought the rest of it home, hoping I can handle the leftovers later.” Maybe just some smells hit him harder than others.

  “Is this like a psychic thing?” she asked, cautiously looking around to make sure nobody was within earshot.

  “And I love how you probably checked to make sure nobody heard what you were saying,” he said in a dry tone.

  “Hey, it’ll be a hell of a long time before I’m comfortable with anything along that line. I managed to get the word psychic out, so be happy with that.”

  “Oh, I am, and I don’t know what this newfound ability of mine is. So I don’t have an answer for you.”

  “And I’m always looking for answers, right?”

  “Answers I can’t give.”

  “Which just makes me really frustrated and fed up,” she said.

  “I know, and yet somehow we still work.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

  “No.” Her voice had a hard tone to it. “It’s worked for a little bit.”

 
“Hey, don’t even go there. I’ll hang up right now if you think you’ll be breaking up.”

  “Do we have anything to break up?”

  He laughed. “Oh, God, it’s one of those nights, is it?”

  “Yeah, a young woman died today at the university. I thought she’d been hit by a vehicle, but it turns out she’s got a small bullet wound in her head.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Yeah, maybe, but, at the same time, what the hell does any of this have to do with anything? And why did this young woman, only eighteen years old, have to die today? For what reason? Did some asshole do it because she wouldn’t date him? Or just targeted her because she’s a redhead?”

  “Do they often pick redheads?”

  “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I’m just depressed and upset that some asshole could do this to her. She had her whole life ahead of her, and it’s gone in the blink of an eye.”

  “So the vehicle didn’t kill her then?”

  “I don’t have the—no.” She stopped, gathered her thoughts. “I shouldn’t even be talking about this. Nothing has been released to the public yet.”

  “It’s not like I’ll be calling the media with an exposé.”

  “They probably wouldn’t believe it anyway. I’m not sure I believe it. Look. I’m almost inside. I’ll have a shower and grab some sleep. I’ll talk to you later.” And, with that, she hung up.

  She stared up at the sky all around her, shaking her head. “It’s such a messed-up world. We really need to do something about that.” Maybe, just maybe, a hot shower and an early bedtime would reset her attitude. She doubted it.

  *

  Simon didn’t like to hear the defeat in Kate’s voice, that negativity. He also had not been invited over, which made him a little worried because of the tone of her voice. Giving her a bit of space to get over whatever was bothering her was one thing, but giving her the space to decide that she didn’t need him in her life was something completely different. Grabbing leftovers from his lunch today and checking the fridge, finding a bottle of wine, he grabbed that too, strolled to his penthouse elevator and took it all the way to the lobby. As he walked toward the front entrance, he saw that Edgar, on nightshift, was manning the front door and immediately opened it for him.

  “Have a good evening, sir.”

  “I hope so,” he said.

  “Hey, you’re bringing wine and food. What every woman needs tonight is to be looked after.”

  Simon stopped and stared out, realized it was pouring down rain. He swore.

  “You want a cab? Do you want to drive? I can get your car brought around.”

  Simon looked at Edgar. “Grab me a cab, will you?”

  After that, as he waited a few minutes for the cab to pull up, Edgar said, “What about the Ubers? Are you happy with them?”

  “They’re fine, and, if they’re faster than cabs, that’s good too. Normally I’d just take the Aquabus.”

  “At least she’s worth it,” Edgar said, with a beaming smile.

  There was some truth to that. When Simon said good night to Edgar and walked out, he got into the back of the cab, gave the address to the driver, and was there in no time. “Too wet to walk tonight.”

  The cab driver laughed.

  Simon nodded, then dropped in the fare and a tip, and headed up to Kate’s apartment. When he knocked on the door, there was no answer. He swore at that, realizing he should have checked to see if she would stay home or would go for that workout. When it opened suddenly a few moments later, he was startled.

  She looked at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  He held up the food and the wine and watched as her eyes lit up. “That’s all it takes, is it?” he said, with a smile.

  “Nope, not at all.” She reached for both and snatched them from his hands. “I’m not that easy of a lay.”

  “Hell, there’s nothing easy about you.” She was already walking back into the kitchen, but she turned and tossed him a grin. He checked her out carefully. “You sounded despondent earlier.”

  She stopped, looked at him, and shrugged, and he almost felt bad for bringing it up. “Sometimes I just hate the senselessness of what’s out in the world right now,” she said quietly. “People should have every moment of joy coming to them, not get cut down in the prime of life over nothing. Less than nothing. It’s like a whim of some asshole who deems at that moment in time that a person shouldn’t be allowed to exist anymore. Who gives them the right?” She grabbed a dinner plate and slammed shut the cupboard.

  “Nobody, which is why it’s so important that you’re there.”

  She stilled, looked over at him, and finally nodded. “I was depressed and upset today, so thanks for this.” She held up the silverware she had grabbed. “I haven’t eaten.” With her dish and knife and fork, she sat at the kitchen table.

  “Maybe that’s partly why you were depressed.” He took a seat across from her.

  “Maybe.” She had the bag open, reaching in without looking. “I also interviewed this kid at a pizza place today, and his attitude bothered me and hung with me all day. He was just one in a group of six, and it shouldn’t have really been a problem, but it seemed like, the longer the day went on, his attitude just got to me more and more. So that it’s all I can think about.”

  “You need to get him out of your head because you know that guys like him exist everywhere.”

  “I know, but it’s like he felt he didn’t have to answer my questions. He didn’t have to talk to me at all. Like, he was somebody, and I should damn well know it. He didn’t need to stay at the crime scene, much less answer my questions or give me the straight truth.” She snorted, then shook her head, dumping whatever food she had retrieved onto her plate.

  “That just means that, one of these days, he’ll get his comeuppance, whether it’s from you or somebody else,” he said.

  “Maybe, and maybe not. It seems like these kids born with a silver spoon in their mouths always get an easy pathway ahead of them.” She took a big bite of whatever.

  “Did you ever have an easy pathway?”

  She stopped, looked at him. “I told you about my brother, right?”

  He nodded. “A little bit.”

  “Right, well, I’m sure you can fill in the rest.”

  “Sure, I probably can, but it’s not the same thing as hearing it from you.”

  “And that is one of the topics I really don’t want to discuss tonight.” For added emphasis, she pointed her fork at him. “Talk about a life cut short.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “You see? That’s why I didn’t invite you over. … I’m in a shitty mood. I get moments of clarity—where I’m okay for, you know, ten or fifteen minutes, like now,” she said, lifting another forkful of her food. “And then everything just comes back down again, and I crash.”

  “You know that you don’t always have to be on. You don’t always have to be perfect.”

  She stopped, stared. “It’s a damn good thing, since I’m a far cry from being perfect.” Her tone was harsh. She narrowed her gaze at him, and he shook his head.

  “You can’t scare me off. I’ve seen way worse than you,” he said.

  At that, she burst out laughing. “I don’t know what it is about you, but that sense of humor gets me every time.”

  “And here I wouldn’t have said I even had one.”

  She chuckled again. “See? It’s shit like that. And you don’t shoot me down for being in a pissy mood, but neither will you indulge it either, so that works.”

  “Yeah, we work.”

  She glared at him. With some heat this time. And not the good kind.

  “Oh no, you don’t. I get that it’s not a conversation for right now, but neither is this a conversation about shutting us down.”

  “It was part of my earlier mood,” she snapped. “And it’s something I have to consider.”

  “No, you don’t. Remember that part about we’re
all good?”

  “We’re good, but that doesn’t mean it’s healthy.”

  He stared, the anger inside him growing. “What the hell is unhealthy about it? What the hell are you even talking about?”

  “I don’t know. I told you it’s a shitty day. Just leave me alone.”

  “Happily.” He stood now. “Absolutely. But stop getting inside my head then too.”

  She stared at him. “You mean that literally?”

  “No, I don’t mean it literally.” He groaned, sat back down. “Why are we arguing?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because you didn’t bring enough food.”

  He stopped and stared, and, sure enough, she had almost all of it on her plate. And for some reason it struck him as completely funny. When he stopped laughing, he said. “Oh my God. You know what? I didn’t even think about it. It was my leftovers. So I just grabbed it and came over.”

  “And it was leftovers, and it was good,” she mumbled, as she shoveled another forkful in her mouth. “But now I feel like shit because I’m eating your food, and there isn’t enough for you.”

  “Do you have anything here to eat?” he asked her.

  She shrugged. “Nothing up to your standards.”

  At that, he turned to her, glared. “Enough of that BS too.”

  She shrugged. “I’m serious. I mean, there’s like bread and peanut butter.”

  “You got any jam?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow. She stopped and stared, and he shrugged. “You think I didn’t have peanut butter to get through the days when I was young? Lot of times I was damn happy to have peanut butter. And sometimes there was no bread to go with it.”

  She winced at that.

  “Yeah, not all of us had the silver spoon.”

  “We haven’t talked about our history much, have we?” she said quietly.

  “Who wants to?” He walked into the kitchen, found a loaf of bread, the butter, and the peanut butter. Then took it all back to the kitchen table and sat down. She looked at him in astonishment, as he slathered four slices of bread with both butter and peanut butter.

  “Do you want honey with that?” She continued to eat the leftovers he had brought.

  He stopped, looked at his sandwiches. “I don’t. I really like peanut butter,” he said. And he put two pieces together, even though he had peanut-buttered both sides, then started to munch.