The Killing Room

by Gerri Hill

  “It’s two floors. I used the elevator.”

  “You know what I mean. I’m sure you’re as busy as I am.”

  “Well, Catherine’s call alone might not have sent me running, but Patrice Kane called me yesterday. Nicole, why haven’t you told me what’s been going on?”

  “And what would I say? Three of my former patients have turned up murdered. It could be a coincidence,” Nicole said.

  “What do the police say?”

  Nicole lowered her head. “Not a coincidence.”

  “Well, what are they doing about it? Just sitting around waiting for the next victim?”

  Nicole bristled, wanting to defend Jake. “They want old files, they want protective custody for me.”

  Dorothy stared. “They had the nerve to ask for your files? I swear, can they not do their own work?”

  “You just asked what they were doing, as if they weren’t doing anything. Of course they’re doing something, and of course they wanted my files.”

  “They have no concept of doctor-patient privilege. They never have. But protective custody? Why?”

  “Detective McCoy seems to think that I’m the eventual target.”

  “Oh my God,” Dorothy said, reaching over to take Nicole’s hand. “But why?”

  “They don’t know.”

  “You can always stay with us. You know I wouldn’t mind.”

  Nicole smiled. “No, but Ellen may.”

  The older woman smiled affectionately at the mention of her lover’s name. “Ellen would be disappointed in me if I didn’t offer our home.”

  “I know. And thank you. But if I’m in danger, I certainly don’t want to involve my friends. Besides, I have no doubt that the police will let me know if I’m targeted.”

  Dorothy scoffed. “Please, Nicole, don’t be naive. Do you know how many cases they work? You’re just a number.”

  Nicole shook her head. “No. Not this time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know one of the detectives on this case. I’m not just a number.”

  “Well, good. That makes me feel a little better.” Then Dorothy smiled. “It’s not that same detective that Patrice has been going on and on about, is it?”

  “Probably. Jake McCoy.”

  “Yes. I knew she had a man’s name, I just couldn’t place it. How do you know her?”

  Nicole felt the blush travel up her face, and she prayed Dorothy didn’t notice. “Actually, it was quite a coincidence, but I ran into her on a hiking trail. You know, on my trip.”

  “I see. That is a coincidence.” Dorothy leaned closer. “Why are you blushing?”

  “Am I?”

  Dorothy’s eyes widened. “You had a… a thing with her?”

  “I wouldn’t really call it a thing. I camped with her a couple of nights.” Nicole smiled. “Actually I was lost when I found her soaking in hot springs.”

  “Naked?”

  Nicole nodded.

  “And? You’re still blushing.”

  “Okay, Dorothy, let’s quit beating around the bush. Yes, we had a thing, as you call it.”

  “With a cop?”

  “I didn’t know she was a cop at the time. And she didn’t know who I was. We exchanged first names only.”

  “Oh my God! You devil. That’s so out of character for you,” Dorothy laughed.

  “Don’t you think I know that?”

  “So what does she look like? Patrice is almost beside herself over the woman.”

  “She’s… attractive. She’s… oh hell, Dorothy, she’s gay. She looks gay, she acts gay. She’s gay.”

  “She’s a cop, and she’s out?”

  “Yes.”

  Dorothy frowned. “Is she like… a dyke or what?”

  Nicole frowned. “God, I hate that word. She’s just… Jake.” Nicole stared across the room. “I’m attracted to her, Dorothy.”

  “Attracted? Well, I would hope so. You slept with her.”

  Nicole shook her head. “It’s more than that.”

  “Attracted like you want to go out with her? Date her?”

  “She’s not my type, right?”

  “Of course not! Nicole, she’s a policewoman. No, she’s definitely not in your league. And I’ve told you before, Deb Fisher is your type.”

  “I don’t like Debra. I told you what happened.”

  “Well, I mean someone like Deb. Even most of her colleagues don’t know she’s gay.”

  “But what does it matter, Dorothy? What are we gaining by hiding who we are?”

  It was Dorothy’s turn to stare. “What you’re gaining is a thriving practice. What Deb Fisher hopes to gain is the mayoral election. What do you mean, what are we gaining?”

  Nicole shrugged. “It’s just such a waste of energy.”

  “Just remember, Nicole, you wouldn’t be where you are today if not for our circle of friends. We’re a close-knit community, and we take care of our own. It’s always been that way.”

  “Times change, Dorothy. We’re a close-knit community, but shouldn’t we broaden out? Shouldn’t we take a chance now and then?”

  Dorothy stood, her nearly white hair glowing under the fluorescent lights. “Take a chance? Nicole, a discreet affair with a cop might be tolerated, but don’t bring her around and don’t mention names to her. Lord, it was bad enough when Deb insisted on bringing Ashley to dinners with the group.”

  “Dorothy, what’s wrong with Ashley?”

  “She’s a coach, Nicole. She just screams gay. I can’t believe Deb was with her for as long as she was.”

  “All these years, Dorothy, I never realized you were so prejudiced. And so judgmental.”

  “I’m sixty-two years old Nicole. And my consultation has been requested by the mayor of this city and the governor of this state. You don’t get to that position by being out.”

  Nicole held her tongue, wanting to tell Dorothy that everyone knew she was gay. For God’s sake, she and Ellen had been together since the sixties. And yes, everyone knew they were together as a couple, but no one talked about it. So therefore, they had to continue to hide and pretend that no one knew. Jesus, it was an endless cycle.

  “I’m just saying, Dorothy, that maybe there comes a time when we need to just be ourselves.”

  “You know the rules, Nicole.” Dorothy walked to the door and stopped. “If you need a place to stay, you’re always welcome.”

  “Thank you. But I’ll be okay.”

  The older woman nodded, then opened the door. “Let me know if you need to talk.”

  Nicole watched her leave, wondering at the isolation she suddenly felt. Had she simply been pretending all these years to be friends with these people? She was a psychologist, for God’s sake! Dorothy was a psychiatrist! Surely she could see how unhealthy it was, this closeted community they’d formed over the years.

  Nicole walked to her desk and sat down, spinning around in her chair and facing the window, looking out over downtown Denver. She admitted that, yes, it was unhealthy. But she’d just fallen into the crowd like the rest, believing that it was best for their professional endeavors to be secretive about it. She only had herself to blame. And it suddenly occurred to her why she’d been so unhappy for the last several years.

  “Because you’re living a lie,” she murmured. She hated what she’d become. The business suits and makeup, high heels and hose, the phantom boyfriend who was always out of town, anything to suggest she was a straight woman. Except on the few occasions that the group got together, or a date with someone new, someone just like all the others. A single, professional woman pretending she wasn’t a lesbian.

  ———

  Jake grabbed her phone with one hand and tucked it against her shoulder, continuing to type the report into the computer.

  “McCoy.”

  “Jake, it’s Monica.”

  Jake paused and picked up the list. “Got a name?”

  “Jena Nichols.”

  “Fuck,” Jake murmured, ci
rcling the name on the list.

  “I’ll take that as a thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, Monica. Yeah, thanks.” Jake slammed the phone down. “Son of a bitch.” She looked up, motioning to Rick. He was locked in a conversation with Belcher.

  “What’s up?”

  “Got an ID. Jena Nichols.”

  “And her husband is…”

  “Frankie Nichols. Let’s pick up his ass,” Jake said, pushing her chair back.

  “Address was a dead end, Jake.”

  “Are you shitting me?”

  “Gina’s going over employment records, trying to get a hit on his SSN.”

  “Fuck!” She grabbed the list and marched into the lieutenant’s office, knocking on the door frame before walking in.

  Gregory looked up, his glasses sliding down his nose. “McCoy? What you got?”

  “ID on our victim. Jena Nichols. Her husband is Frankie Nichols, one of the three Gina picked out.”

  “So why are you still here?”

  “Bogus address.”

  “Call his parole officer. Someone’s got to know where he is.”

  “Gina’s doing a search on his SSN, trying to get a hit on employment.”

  “That’s assuming he’s working. Check with his PO. Let’s get Simpson and Salazar on her last whereabouts.”

  Jake nodded. “On it.”

  ———

  Nicole looked up from her notes at the quiet knock on her door. She’d seen her last appointment she was sure. And it was unlike Catherine to knock and wait.

  “Come in.”

  But indeed, it was Catherine who stuck her head in.

  “You said to remind you.”

  Nicole frowned.

  “You have a date.”

  Nicole sighed. “Shit.” She tossed her pen on her desk and took a deep breath. “Tell me again why I’m going out with her?”

  “Because she’s a physician with a thriving practice, and she’s Irene’s good friend.”

  “Oh, yeah. And Irene thinks we’d be perfect together.”

  Catherine shrugged. “You said to remind you.”

  “I know, I know. It’s just… I’m so tired of this.”

  “So say no once in a while,” Catherine suggested.

  “It’s not that easy.”

  “Well, I hope you’re not wearing that. Did you bring clothes to change into?”

  Nicole narrowed her eyes at Catherine, wondering what was wrong with the skirt she had on. “No, I did not bring clothes. I guess I’ll have to run home first, won’t I?”

  “Well, that depends. Where are you meeting?”

  “Sullivan’s.”

  “Oh, yes. You definitely need to change.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with this?”

  Catherine shook her head. “I swear, sometimes I wonder at your fashion sense. You’re in a business suit. Perfect for lunch at Sullivan’s. Not dinner.”

  “Oh, Catherine. I don’t feel like going home and getting more dressed up than I already am. It makes no sense to me.”

  Catherine leaned forward. “You’re going to Sullivan’s, one of the finest restaurants in Denver. Don’t skimp on your wardrobe.”

  Nicole’s shoulders sagged. “I guess that little black dinner dress would work.”

  Catherine smiled. “That would be perfect.”

  “And it would also help if it were twenty degrees warmer outside tonight,” Nicole said sarcastically.

  “Price we pay.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Nicole moved to shut down her computer. “Why don’t you cut out early, too?”

  “Oh, I’ve got a few more files to update. Besides, traffic is already a bitch.”

  “Thanks. You’re just full of good news.”

  ———

  “I’m sorry. He’s already gone for the day.”

  Jake stared at the young girl. “Great.” Jake pointed at her watch. “Five till five. What are his hours?”

  “Well, normally eight to five.”

  Jake drew her brows together, and the girl took a step back.

  Rick stepped forward and smiled charmingly as he pushed Jake out of the way. “What time will he be in tomorrow?”

  “He’ll be in at eight, like always.”

  “So? If we needed information from one of his files, could you get that for us?”

  The girl shook her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. No. I can’t do that.”

  Jake leaned forward again. “This is very important. We’re just looking for employment records for one of his clients. Can’t you just look it up on the computer?”

  “I can’t access the files.”

  “Aren’t you his secretary?”

  “Yes, of course. But I’ve only been here two weeks.”

  Jake looked at Rick and rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered.

  Rick pulled out his card and handed it to the girl. “Make sure he gets that first thing in the morning. Okay? We’ll be here at eight sharp.”

  “Yes, of course. Detective Chase, was it?”

  Jake grabbed Rick’s arm and pulled him away. “Christ, Rick,” she murmured. “She’s twelve years old.”

  “She’s at least eighteen.”

  “And you’re still married.”

  Rick laughed. “Jake, it ain’t no different than when you were sweet-talking Patrice Kane.”

  “Patrice Kane wasn’t jailbait, and at least I got some information from Patrice Kane.”

  Rick stopped at the car and checked his watch. “So, it’s five. Call it a day?”

  Jake frowned. “We got shit, Ricky. We got another dead woman, and we got shit.”

  “We got Frankie Nichols.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where the hell is he?”

  “We’ll be here at eight sharp. By eight-thirty, we’ll have him.”

  Jake nodded. “Okay. But I think I’ll look up Dr. Westbrook and let her know the latest.”

  Rick cocked his head. “You got the hots for her or what?”

  “Of course not. She’s part of this case, and you know my rule.”

  “Oh yeah. Forgot. And I’ve never seen you break it.”

  “And you won’t. You could learn from this.”

  “You mean now that I’m soon to be single again?”

  Jake slammed the door shut and waited until Rick did the same. “Are you? Have you talked to her?”

  “No. But I’ve listened to voice mail from her sisters and her mother. And trust me, we won’t be living together again.”

  Jake shook her head. “It’s funny how that plays out, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jake pulled into traffic and slowed. It would take them at least a half hour to get back downtown. “I mean, one day you’re sleeping in the same bed, then the next, because of words spoken, you’re like total strangers. Or worse, you hate each other.”

  “I think we could talk this out and both agree that it wasn’t working, if her family wasn’t involved. They’re like a swarm of piranhas, you know?”

  “Then call her and talk it out.” Jake pulled out her cell phone, dialing a number with her thumb, surprised that she remembered it. “Catherine? Glad I caught you. It’s Jake McCoy. Is the doc still in?”

  “Yeah, you got the hots for her,” Rick whispered.

  “A date, huh? Well, I need to talk to her, Catherine. Where’s she going?”

  “Are you serious?” Rick asked.

  “Sullivan’s? Shit. No, no, I won’t tell her you told me. But I owe you.” Jake disconnected and tucked the phone in her jacket.

  “Sullivan’s? Jake, you can’t crash a dinner date at Sullivan’s.”

  “Watch me.”

  “Just call her in the morning.”

  Jake shook her head. “She needs to know. And I think it’s time to bring her in. We all know she’s the target.”

  “And if we bring her in, how are we going to nail the guy?”

  Jake raised her eyebrows. “She won’t be bait.”


  “I’m not saying bait. Hell, Jake, she’s a civilian. I’m just saying, round the clock, maybe, but not bring her in. If he’s after her and she’s protected, then we got shit.”

  “We already got shit.”

  “Oh, Christ! I hate having these conversations with you. We always go in circles.”

  Jake pounded the steering wheel. “Goddamn traffic!”

  “It’s five o’clock. What’d you expect?”

  Jake leaned back, resigned to waiting out the traffic. “It’s times like this, Ricky, when I miss the quiet of the mountains. You’ve got to come up to my cabin sometime. It’s incredible, the peace there.”

  “I believe you. But you know, I’m a city boy. I wouldn’t know what to do with all that… that space with no people around.”

  Jake shook her head. She never understood some people’s fear of being alone in the vastness of the wilderness. For her, there was nothing better.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Nicole locked her car and hurried to the entrance, knowing she was late. Her feet felt cramped in the heels she’d chosen to wear, not to mention that the skimpy dinner dress was not suitable for a cool fall evening. Once inside, she relaxed a bit, pausing to let the chill seep out before she looked for her dinner date. She’d only met Cheryl one time before, and she hoped she remembered what she looked like. How embarrassing would that be if she didn’t? But she needn’t have worried.

  “Nicole?”

  Nicole turned, finding herself face to face with a petite redhead. She smiled, swearing that the Cheryl she’d met before had blond hair.

  “Cheryl?”

  “Good to see you again. I’m running late, and I was so afraid I’d kept you waiting.”

  “No, I just got here myself. How are you?”

  “I’m doing great. And I apologize for being late. Had complications in surgery.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “He’s still alive,” Cheryl said with a grin.

  Nicole smiled, too, not sure if that was a joke or not.

  “Shall we?”

  Nicole nodded and walked beside Cheryl through the lobby, waiting only a moment before they were greeted by a gentleman in a tuxedo.

  “We have reservations for two. Dr. Logan.”