“Then why are you calling?”
“Because I was hoping you could give me some additional information that wasn’t in the papers. About what happened to your daughter. And about your daughter’s doctor at the time, Dr. Nina Whitaker. You told reporters that you blamed her for Elizabeth’s death.”
“That’s right,” he spat out. “She is responsible. I’m not retracting that statement, so if that’s why you’re calling you can—”
“Actually, that’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling because I believe you. And I’m afraid Nina Whitaker is going to hurt someone else. Because of her actions, a little girl named Rebecca Hyatt almost died the other day. The police are trying to make it seem like she actually helped the girl, but I think we both know that’s a lie. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes,” he said quickly, even though he had absolutely no idea what the guy was talking about. But of course Nina Whitaker had endangered another girl. After Beth, it had only been a matter of time. “Absolutely I agree. Tell me more.”
By the time Lester hung up the phone, he felt stronger. Between the drinking and his grief, he’d barely managed to hold on to sanity. But now things were different. The dream had been a sign, as had that phone call. He had a purpose now.
Damn Nina Whitaker. She obviously wasn’t taking his cards seriously.
She’d let Beth die. According to the reporter on the phone, she’d let her own sister die, too. Lester wasn’t going to let her endanger another girl.
Even if that meant he had to go to California to stop her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ON ANY OTHER SATURDAY, Nina would have slept in and risen leisurely to have a cup of coffee on her back patio. Instead, despite a restless night, she woke at the crack of dawn, feeling aroused and surly. She immediately knew the cause: her dreams of Simon Granger. They’d plagued her all week, no matter how hard she’d tried to purge him from her thoughts. And even when she was awake, she thought of him often, and those thoughts were always accompanied by a vague feeling of anticipation.
Damn it, the man was sexy and intriguing and infuriating and he was going to be trouble. Moreover, she had no illusions that he was going to take the assignment to work with her sitting down. He was going to push back; it was only a matter of when and how.
Instead of sitting around and stressing about it, however, Nina decided to take a drive. Maybe to the ocean, she thought, which never failed to clear her head of troubling thoughts. She dressed, packed a day bag and had just poured herself a cup of coffee when there was a knock at her door. She frowned and again thought of Simon Granger.
It would be easy for him to find out where she lived. She’d suspected he’d push back against Stevens’s machinations. Had his offensive begun already?
Deliberately, she took a minute to fix her coffee the way she liked it. Then, bringing her cup with her, she looked through the peephole but saw nothing. She opened the door. There was an innocuous-looking letter sticking half out from beneath her welcome mat.
She seriously doubted Simon Granger would leave her a note rather than tell her face-to-face exactly what he thought of her and her proposed plans for the city.
With a sigh, she knelt down, picked it up and walked back into the house.
Juggling her coffee cup, she pulled the piece of white parchment paper out of the envelope, a small smile on her lips as she imagined it to be a love note from Simon. The kind that kids passed around in school that proffered two boxes—check yes or no—to the question whether the recipient liked them. She and Simon didn’t like each other, that was obvious, but she was honest enough to admit they were attracted to one another.
When she glanced at the paper, she wasn’t expecting to see the note she’d imagined. But she wasn’t expecting to see what was actually there, either.
She died and so will you.
Her mug of coffee slipped from her fingers.
* * *
AS SIMON SAT IN HIS parked car across the street from Nina Whitaker’s home, he again thought of contradictions. Of puzzle pieces not quite fitting into place. Although he couldn’t see it, he’d bet her ugly car was parked at the end of her long driveway, muddying up the hoity-toity aesthetics of what was an honest-to-goodness mansion.
The woman worked as a shrink at a public hospital but apparently she was loaded. Either that, or she was boffing a really rich sugar daddy, but he just couldn’t make himself believe that about her. More and more, he was fascinated by what made her tick. And that very fascination should have him even more determined to get her the hell away from him by any means necessary. Instead, he was here, prepared to lay his proverbial cards on the table.
He recalled his plan to seduce her. To use their mutual attraction to get her to quit the absurd partnership they’d been forced into.
As soon as he’d had the thought, another had started to form and it had kept at him until he’d had to accept it: he couldn’t do it. He’d never crossed the line, but he had no problem intimidating suspects when he needed to. On the other hand, he’d never used sex to intimidate an innocent woman and he wasn’t about to start now. That wasn’t his style, and moreover, he didn’t really need to stoop that low to accomplish what he wanted with Nina.
The fact of the matter was he was attracted to her and she was attracted to him. Since both of them seemed equally determined to fight that attraction, things were going to naturally be uncomfortable between them. If she was prone to caving, which he doubted anyway, she’d probably cave on that basis alone. Given that, playing the heavy with her seemed overkill.
Plus, there was the simple matter of what she was trying to accomplish. Although he could accuse her of caring too much and having too much faith in the ability of men to change, the fact remained she was trying to do something good. He simply didn’t agree with her methods or that change was necessary. If that was the case, if he truly believed in the competency and training the city had already provided to law enforcement, why not give her a fair shot, let her make her recommendations to Commander Stevens and let the cards fall where they may? As misguided as he considered her goal, he really didn’t have enough information about what she was suggesting to back up his opinion. What he needed to do was stop reacting to her in a knee-jerk manner simply because of what had happened to Lana. He doubted she could say anything that would win him over, but he supposed he owed her the opportunity to try. Otherwise, he would be no better than the close-minded man Elaina Scott had accused him of being.
Getting out of his car, Simon strode toward her front door. Given the length of the driveway and walkway, it took a minute. Not only was her house located in San Francisco’s ultraposh Pacific Heights, but the symmetrical, redbrick and gray-shingled residence was smack-dab in the middle of the Gold Coast area, so called because the houses in it were even more fancy than those in the normally fancy-pants neighborhood. Unlike most of her neighbors, however, Nina didn’t have a gate blocking access to her residence, but she did have the same spectacular view of the city at the rear of the house. Despite its size and majesty, complete with topiaries, boxwood hedges and rosebushes, Nina’s home managed to appear welcoming. That impression was aided somewhat by the butt-ugly car that was indeed parked in the driveway; it took the snobbery of the house down a notch or two. Or twenty. Simon grinned. He’d bet that just the idea of it being driven on their street drove her neighbors crazy. He wondered if any of them had ever had the nerve to say anything to the elegant woman who drove it.
He lifted the heavy metal knocker resting against the arched solid wood door and announced his presence. As he waited, hands in his pockets, he heard shuffling from inside. For a second, he wondered if she was going to ignore him, but that didn’t seem to jive with what he knew about her. She wasn’t a coward...
She slowly opened the door. Even wearing jeans and a sweater, she looked as classy and elegant as her house. From his vantage point, he could just make out wood-paneled walls, herringbone pattern wood floors, exposed b
eam ceilings, a redbrick fireplace, period light fixtures and diamond-paned windows. He couldn’t help his low whistle.
“Nice place,” he said. “Not what I’d expect for a shrink. Not one that works at a public hospital, anyway.”
Her lips pressed together, but instead of reacting snappishly, she simply shrugged. “I imagine I don’t fit a lot of your preconceptions about psychiatrists. Maybe you’ll figure that out over the next week while we work together.”
She said it lightly but firmly, establishing that despite any thoughts he might have of trying to run her off, it wasn’t going to work.
Nope, he decided. He couldn’t imagine her neighbors commenting on her choice of vehicle. Hell, she probably intimidated them to the point they told her they loved how quirky it was. He suppressed a smile and nodded, amazed that being in Nina’s presence could make him feel edgy but lighthearted, too. Even a little relieved. It was quite an alluring combination. Too alluring. “Maybe I will,” he finally answered her.
She appeared surprised by his easy acquiescence.
He smoothed a hand over his hair. “Can I come in for a second so we can talk?”
She stepped back and he stepped in. The place was big, and every foot of it gleamed and shone like a high-priced jewel.
“Seriously, your home is beautiful,” he said. Like you, he thought.
She looked startled, as if she truly thought him incapable of civilized conversation. For a horrifying second, he wondered if he’d actually complimented her looks out loud, but no...
She said, “Thank you. It belonged to my grandmother. I was lucky enough to inherit it from her and I pretty much work to pay the taxes. Hence the car I drive. Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thanks.” He studied her, and the attraction he felt for her bloomed as strongly as ever. By the way she was holding herself, ramrod-straight yet a bit fidgety, she sensed it, too. Might as well come right out and acknowledge it, right? “What I wanted to say is...I’m attracted to you.”
Her eyes rounded comically.
He seemed to be giving her one shock after another, and, man, it gave him a thrill. Deciding he was having too much fun, he forced himself to say, “But I don’t want to be attracted to you. That’s why I don’t want to work with you. I thought about seducing you to drive you away, but I decided not to.”
She gave an incredulous laugh. “Well, that’s mighty big of you, Detective Granger.”
He grinned, liking how she looked and sounded when she laughed. He bet he’d like it even more if she laughed with genuine joy rather than mockery. “Not really. Honestly, I think if we spend any significant time together, it’s gonna happen on its own.”
“It?”
He raised a brow. “You want details? ’Cause they say anticipation is half the fun.”
She sucked in an enraged breath. “Well, you’re certainly full of yourself.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she pressed her lips together. Probably expected him to comment on how she’d soon be full of him. But he wasn’t that tacky. Either that, or he just didn’t want to be too predictable.
Shrugging, he leaned against one paneled wall, his gaze wandering to the entry table and framed pictures next to him. His eye caught on a picture of a teenage Nina laughing with a girl that looked remarkably like her. A sister, perhaps? Probably. She was pretty, too, but even though she smiled in the picture, her gaze seemed troubled. It was a notable contrast to the happiness in Nina’s eyes. In the picture. Not now. Now she was looking at him with wary expectation. As if waiting for him to acknowledge something. What had she said? Oh, right. That he was full of himself.
“Actually, I wish it was just a matter of being conceited. But I’m just a realist. I don’t want to act on the attraction. Neither do you. But regardless, if we spend the next week together, it will happen.”
Her pupils dilated but she raised her chin rebelliously. “And that’s not enough to scare you away?”
“I guess some part of me still likes to live dangerously,” he said softly. He frowned at his choice of words. Feared that she’d catch his meaning—that part of him no longer liked to live dangerously anymore. Feared that she’d wonder what had caused a change in him and maybe even question him on it. And he did not want to talk about Lana with this woman. Not now. Not ever. Quickly, he asked, “Do you? Like to live dangerously?”
“Not particularly.” She paused several seconds, as if weighing her next words. “How long have you been here, by the way?”
“Outside, you mean? Not long. Why?”
“Because I’m wondering something. You’re trying to scare me away with this silly idea of us ‘doing it.’ Maybe you’d try scaring me away a different way, too.”
He straightened and scowled. “What do you mean?”
She pursed her lips, as if she was weighing something over in her mind, then she shook her head. She even waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, nothing. It’s just, you’ve suddenly shown up being all charming and honest. It’s thrown me for a bit of a loop.”
“You find me charming like this? I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
He caught it. Just the hint of a smile before she wiped it away. It made him wonder how far he’d go to see it again.
“What I mean is, I have to wonder if you’re luring me into some kind of trap even as you deny doing so. If you’re pretending to put all your cards on the table even as you stack the deck against me.”
“Well, no matter what I say you’re not going to believe me, are you?”
“I suppose not.”
“Right. So we’re going to be professionals about this. Whether we want to be or not. We’ll give this shadow program a real chance, and let the rest take care of itself. No hidden agendas or dirty tricks. Deal?” He held out his hand for her to shake.
Warily, she clasped it.
He immediately frowned. “You’re cold as ice. And you’re shaking. What’s wrong?”
She quickly pulled her hand from his. “I guess that’s just what I do when I’m around you. Probably overcome by all those images of us ‘doing it.’ But don’t worry, by the time we start working together, I’ll have it under control. Good day, Detective. I’ll see you on Monday.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
SIMON WALKED OUT TO his car but abruptly stopped. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t say what, exactly, but his gut was telling him not to leave. The few times he’d failed to listen to his gut had resulted in danger. Most recently, his gut had told him that Lana’s actions had put her in danger. It had told him to stay with her. Watch her. Protect her. He hadn’t done that. Instead, he’d let his pride and his anger affect him. He’d walked away from her, which had given her the opportunity to walk straight into a serial killer’s arms...
Shit. Thoughts like that didn’t support his comments to Mac, and what he’d thought was his honest belief, that he didn’t blame himself for Lana’s death. He wondered what Nina Whitaker would say about that. That he truly held himself responsible? Whatever her response would be, and however much it would anger him, he wasn’t going to ignore the unsettled feeling he was having now.
Doubling back to her front entrance, he knocked on the door. She didn’t answer. He tried the handle, but the door was locked. Frowning, he considered the possibilities. She could have hopped in the shower. Or more likely, stepped out onto the patio to take in her spectacular view.
He went around the side of the house. The backyard was a mess—piles of brick and earth, the place obviously undergoing some sort of landscaping. But she wasn’t on the patio. After hesitating briefly, he tested the small patio door next to the kitchen, and found it unlocked. Not smart of her but lucky for him. He inched it open and called out, “Nina. It’s Simon.”
Again, no answer.
Alarm crawled up his spine.
Where the hell had she gone?
“Nina?”
He stepped in. Kept calling her name as he checked one room after another. He didn�
��t draw his gun, but he was acutely aware of the weight of his off-duty piece in his pocket holster. He positioned his hand at the ready, prepared to use the weapon if he needed to.
In the living room, he startled a large tortoiseshell cat with large white rings around its eyes—like a clown face. The cat hissed, then dove under the couch. He scanned the area, noting the impressive main-floor kitchen. Next to the kitchen were two doorways, one leading to an informal dining area, the other leading to a huge pantry and food prep area that was as big as the kitchen and dining area in his own apartment. Everything was neat and tidy, but the airy rooms only served to highlight how little space one tiny female would occupy. He wondered if the sheer size of the house made her feel as lonely as he imagined it would.
He didn’t like the idea of her being lonely. Hated it, in fact. It just didn’t seem fair. She obviously had a huge heart and a tremendous amount of courage—the way she’d placed herself in front of Michael Callahan, protecting him despite Simon’s derision and aggression, spoke to that. Who protected her? Who brought her joy? Pleasure?
And what the hell business was that of his? His increasing obsession with her bothered him. It made him want to turn around and get the hell out of there. But then he remembered how cold her hand had been. How she’d been trembling. Almost as if she’d been scared. And how she’d obviously been trying to hide that from him.
He found the idea of her being scared even more disturbing than the idea of her being lonely.
He was heading toward what he figured was her bedroom when she stepped out, her gaze on a piece of paper. She must have caught sight of him from her peripheral vision because she glanced up. And screamed.
Simon held his hands out, palms up, surrender style. At the same time, he noted the look of wild fear in her eyes. She was wearing earphones and blasting music. Her fear was understandable given he’d startled her in her home. But he still couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d already been frightened before that. “Whoa. It’s just me.”
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