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

by Dale Mayer

  Mostly because she had seen so much herself, and she didn’t want him to be unprepared. But how did one prepare for having one’s life put under a microscope like this and then be tormented to the extent that Simon had?

  It made no sense that such a thing was even possible, and yet, here he was, still tormented, while being connected to some woman crying her heart out. He didn’t know if she was physically hurt. It seemed like she was emotionally traumatized. In the background with her tears, although right now she wasn’t sobbing, it was more of a heartfelt disquiet on the inside. He wanted to poke it and make it bleed because, if it festered and didn’t bleed, then it would never heal. But that emotional ball inside wasn’t something he seemed to be able to access. It was more of an emotional window into her soul, and that was hard to take in.

  Shrugging, he turned his head, as he got dressed, looking out at the city around him. It would be a gorgeous day. He really loved this area and especially enjoyed walking along the harbor, sitting down with a coffee. It also reminded him that he was behind on his workouts, something he rarely let happen. He enjoyed his workouts, but, at the same time, he also found a lot of things were keeping him off balance right now. Things that he probably shouldn’t let have that much power over him.

  On that note, he stopped and frowned because that’s exactly what he was doing. He was letting this “gift” have power over him, and that was something he couldn’t afford. He quickly changed into his jogging shorts and a muscle shirt. He picked up a key he kept on a wristband, put it into his pocket, leaving his wallet and full set of keys behind, then headed downstairs.

  He didn’t let himself think about it, but he just raised a hand to the doorman as he plowed through the stairwell door into the lobby and kept on going outside, intent on a hard morning run. He heard Harry in the background, telling him to have a good time. Simon wasn’t sure anybody had a good time running, although, at times, it was good to run and to get away. As he ran, he let the voices disappear inside his head. He let them drift out what he considered the back door to his mind, as he was breathing really hard.

  He exerted himself right now, waiting for the oxygen to kick his brain into gear, for his nerves to fire up, and for his heart to come alive and to make all this seem like it was his world—not somebody else’s. Being caught between two worlds was the oddest feeling ever, and he just wanted to be in his world, not theirs. He wanted to feel alive, not half dead with these other ghostly impressions. He ran down the blocks for a good mile, before swinging down around the harbor and coming up along one of the paths.

  And here, he picked up the pace and raced faster and faster. The area was mostly empty; the world was just waking up. The sun had risen but just barely crested over the horizon. The rays landed on the water at his side, as he ran harder and faster, until finally he felt his heart slamming against his chest, and his brain lit up like a Christmas tree. His body pulsed with energy, as he slowed to a walk and cooled down.

  When he circled back around again, coming up on the same walkway, an old man sitting on the bench smiled at him. “That was a hell of a run.”

  Simon looked at him, grinned. “Some days you just need to make sure that everything is alive, even when they feel half dead.”

  The old man cackled. “Hey, in my world, half dead is still a good thing.”

  “Not mine.” Simon smiled. “I needed to know it was still my world.”

  “Hey, I get you. Sometimes we’re pulled in so many different directions that you wonder if it’s even worth trying to fight it anymore.”

  “Yet it has to be,” he murmured. “Because, otherwise, there’s nothing.”

  “Haven’t you figured out that nothing’s there anyway?” he asked, with a quirky smile.

  “I hope you’re wrong,” Simon murmured.

  “You just got to decide what it is that you’ll do in your life.”

  He stopped, looked at the old guy. “In what way?”

  “Will you listen to the voices in your head, or will you do what you want to do?” And, with that, he lifted a hand and stood. “Have a good day.” And he turned and walked away.

  The old man’s words were uncannily prophetic because the words in Simon’s head weren’t what anybody would have expected to be there. It was definitely a case of listening to them or listening to his own words. Is that why he was out of sorts? Because he was listening to other people? Of course he was listening to other people, but why?

  It hit him just then—because this crying woman needed help. He didn’t know how to help her, but there had to be a way. And because he didn’t know what that was, he was the one feeling pressured and powerless.

  “It’s all about finding the pathway forward,” he muttered to himself, as he walked back to his penthouse. “So how do I find out what to do? I’ve already tried to track this woman, and I’m not getting a response. I’ve tried to figure out who she is and where she is, but, for all I know, she’s not even in the damn country.” And that thought posed its own problems.

  According to his grandmother, geography didn’t necessarily matter. As far as he was concerned, that made no sense because surely a signal should be stronger if it were closer, but his grandmother had said it had nothing to do with distance and everything to do with emotional connection. That wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but, in a twisted way, it made some sense. Except this woman was breaking his heart with her tears and that ingrained sadness, that loneliness overwhelming her. It impacted his life because he couldn’t find a way to reach out to help her.

  There was no way for him to tell her that it would be okay because, hell, half the time in life, things weren’t okay, and there was no way to make them that way. And he wasn’t somebody who would lie just to make her feel better. It was one thing to tell her that she was strong enough to handle whatever this was and to offer support, but it was another thing entirely to tell her it would magically be okay.

  As he walked back up to his building, he saw Harry, a big grin on his face.

  “Now you look better. Earlier you looked as if you were running from something hellish.”

  “I do feel much better.”

  “Good, glad to hear it.”

  When Simon walked inside his penthouse, he brought out his blender and snagged a couple fresh oranges, made orange juice, and then added bananas, protein powder, his oils, and some greens to it. With a beautiful shake in front of him, and, feeling like he might be getting back a little more to normal, he sat down and enjoyed his breakfast.

  Chapter 15

  Kate was frustrated that, with rundowns on all the suspects and all the observers they had managed to locate and to talk to, nobody saw anything on the second killing at the intersection. Even when they had gone through as many of the faces as they could, they still saw no sign of anybody with a disability or even someone at Candy’s crime scene that seemed to have been at Sally’s crime scene just days earlier. It was well-known in the industry how other criminals stayed at a crime scene to watch the chaos they caused—arsonists, for example.

  Back for yet another visit, Kate stood at the intersection, her hands in her pockets, and studied the surroundings. A pizza shop was on one side, and she and Rodney had checked its surveillance cameras, but they weren’t working. She walked over to see if they sold pizza by the slice because her stomach was growling; it was lunchtime, after all.

  As Kate entered the front door, several people left. She noted a couple empty tables, and one was tucked into the far side. She walked over on a hunch and considered, if somebody had been sitting here, they would have a perfect view of what was going on at Kate’s intersection in question. She sat to confirm.

  With a nod, she stood, heading to the front counter, reading the menu. They did have pizza by the slice, and, not caring what they gave her, she just had the guy behind the counter choose whatever was hot out of the oven. He served her immediately, and she stood off to the side to eat, while she continued her conversation with him. “Do you e
ver get people who sit here for a while?”

  He nodded. “Sure, lots of students. They bring in their laptops, and sometimes we get locals, who stop by, waiting for the fresh pizza to come out.”

  “Do you ever get some people who just come in for coffee?”

  He shrugged. “It’s not as common, but we do have a group of customers who like to sit around and have coffee.”

  “Is the coffee that good?” she joked.

  “Actually, it is.” The guy smiled. “One of the best-kept secrets around. My boss invested in a really good espresso machine, so it’s something you can count on. The locals all know about it. Here. I’ll give you a cup to try for yourself.”

  “Interesting. Anybody in that group that’s been enlightening?” He frowned, not quite sure how to answer that question. She shrugged, pointing out the storefront windows. “We’ve had so many accidents out there, we’re just trying to see if anybody around here may have seen something.”

  “You should talk to Bill.”

  “Who is Bill?” she asked.

  “One of the regulars and he sits over in one of those chairs.” He pointed to a couple seats by the big picture window.

  “When does he usually come in?”

  “Every couple days. I haven’t seen him today yet, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows. I think he was here yesterday. Yeah, when the police were all here. We were talking about it. He’s the one who told me that it was the second one in just a short time.”

  “You didn’t know about that?”

  “No, I was off that day.” He shrugged.

  “So, you wouldn’t know if he was here when the other accident happened then?”

  “No. He’d heard about it for sure, but almost everybody here had. You don’t hear something like that without everybody talking about it.”

  “What are you hearing?”

  He started to speak, then looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Mostly, like, wondering why the cops aren’t doing something about it.”

  She winced at that. “Right. That’s always a topic of interest.”

  “You’re a cop, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “A detective, but it’s amazing how many people don’t see anything, even though it’s information we need to solve some of these crimes.”

  “Right, nobody ever wants to get involved, I suppose. Bill is like that, so, even if you were to talk to him, I don’t know if he’d tell you anything.”

  “Why is that?”

  “He says, he doesn’t like no coppers.” The kid shook his head, grinning.

  Chuckling, she replied, “Sounds like quite a character.”

  “If you could ever convince him to talk, he’d probably have a lot to say.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Oh, he’s not that old, I suppose. He’s got to be forty.”

  Kate stared at the kid behind the counter. “You’re calling forty old? When did that happen?”

  “I mean, for here, he is. We see mostly university students, so, as far as our customers go, he is old.”

  She’d accept that as an excuse, but still it smarted. But it was more irritating when she realized that younger people, like him, thought life over and done at forty. Old age sets in then. “Did he ever say anything else?”

  “Nah. He doesn’t talk a whole lot,” he said.

  “Interesting.”

  Pointing at her empty plate, he asked, “Want another?”

  “Not now. Do you have any other regulars around here?”

  He shook his head. “Not really, although a couple come in every once in a while.” He shrugged. “Bill comes in more often. The other day he came in and wasn’t happy when somebody was sitting in his chair, so I guess he comes in enough that he considers it his spot.” The kid gave her a one-arm shrug. “In fact, when the other guy up and left, Bill moved over and sat in the same damn spot.”

  “Oh, that’s too funny. But people get comfortable in their habits, even proprietary, though they don’t always have any reason to.”

  “Yeah, that’s Bill.” He shifted his gaze, then nodded behind her. “That’s him coming in now.”

  And, sure enough, as she turned, a man maybe in his forties walked in and headed to the counter. She stepped off to the side slightly.

  Bill moved into place. “Morning. I’ll take the usual.”

  “Sure, no problem, I was just talking to this lady about you.”

  At that, Bill turned to look at her. “Cop?”

  “Yeah, detective, good eye.”

  “You can smell them all a mile away.”

  “You were on the force, huh?”

  He looked at her in surprise, then nodded slowly. “Yep, I was actually. How’d you know?”

  “I can smell an ex-copper a mile away.” She gave him a knowing grin.

  He looked at her with respect. “Not too many people know that.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s all good.”

  He snorted. “It depends. You getting anywhere in this damn case here?” he asked. “People are dropping like flies around this place.”

  “I hear you were here the day of the latest accident.”

  “Both days. I was here early enough to see the one, while I was sitting here, but I didn’t see the other one though.”

  “Yeah?” she said. “Did you see anything helpful?”

  “Sure took you guys long enough to get around to this place. It’s got a bird’s-eye view.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here. I also needed coffee and some more food.” At that, her stomach rumbled.

  He shook his head. “I remember that on the job. Seemed like we never had any time to get a meal in.”

  “True enough. So, did you see anything?”

  She studied him, as he turned and looked over at the kid behind the counter, watching as he made up the coffee for him. “Not really. Nothing I could count on, at least.”

  “Anything you can’t count on?”

  He turned toward her. “You really got nothing, huh?”

  “Not a whole lot,” she said cheerfully. “Of course everybody is pretty thin when it comes to having any information.”

  “That’s normal. What about the cameras?”

  “The cameras here are broken,” she said.

  Bill looked at the guy behind the counter. “Really, kid?”

  “Yeah, we had a break-in a while back, and they damaged the cameras. The boss never got them fixed.”

  “You probably need to get on that,” Bill said. “Otherwise, if it happens again, the insurance company will be all over him.”

  “I think that’s partly why he didn’t bother getting it fixed. The insurance wouldn’t cover it in the first place, so then he figured, why bother? They wouldn’t cover it anyway, so it was just more money out the window for nothing.”

  At that, Bill nodded. “Once you start getting into a scenario like that, it’s pretty damn hard to convince yourself that it’s worth the money.”

  She watched the two talk. “So, back to the accident.”

  Bill snatched up the pizza the kid held out for him, grabbed his coffee, and walked over to his preferred table. “As you can see, I had a good view. But, when I came in that day, I wasn’t looking out the window. I was studying the newspaper.”

  “So you didn’t see anything?” Her heart sank.

  He nodded. “Exactly. I saw it afterward, when the woman was already on the ground.”

  “Did you rush out to help her?” she asked curiously.

  “Nope, I’m not doing that shit no more. Besides, a crowd had already gathered.”

  “How quickly? Too quickly?”

  “Now that’s a good question.” He stopped to consider her. “That’s a really good question.” He thought about it and shook his head. “I don’t think you’re right though. It happened fast, and the driver of the car got out. But he took off soon enough, and she didn’t look like she was all that badly hurt.”

  “So he did get out?”


  He frowned, thought about it. “The second one, not the first one.”

  “You saw the first one?”

  “I did but not for long. And I didn’t hang around. A ton of people were gathering fast. I knew the cops were on the way, and it would just be chaos.”

  “And you didn’t want to get questioned, I suppose,” she said in a dry tone.

  “Hell no,” he muttered. “I know how long that takes.”

  “And you don’t want to be a good citizen now, huh?”

  “Nope, don’t feel any incentive for that at all, nothing in it for me.”

  “You only do what’s in it for you now?”

  “Yep, pretty much.”

  “What happened to you?” she asked, frowning.

  “Not all cops end up retiring, being all good ex-cops.” He sneered. “I didn’t leave on good terms, so I don’t really have a whole lot of fond memories.”

  She winced at that. “I guess that’s everybody’s worst-case scenario. When you put in that many years, you do want to get your pension and hope there’s something else to do when you leave.”

  “There is. You rot at home. You can’t get other jobs.”

  “You’re still young,” she said.

  “Yeah, but with a disability.”

  “On the job?”

  He shook his head. “No, that was the worst part because I would have gotten a better pension if it had been.”

  “Yeah.” She grimaced, then shrugged. “Life is a bitch no matter what, it seems.”

  “It is, indeed.” He gave a startled laugh. “Anyway, I didn’t see anything I could help with. Otherwise I would have called somebody,” he said. But he appeared to be dismissive of it.

  “Did you see the vehicle?”

  “Which one?”

  “So, they weren’t the same?”

  He stopped, looked at her, and shook his head. “No, they weren’t.”

  She nodded. “It was a thin hope anyway. Anybody hanging around the same crime scene twice?”

  “Not that I noticed, but it did occur to me. When it happened the second time, that just seemed like way too much of a coincidence.”