by Gerri Hill
Nicole nearly accepted. God knows she wanted to. But she looked at the endless assortment of paperwork on her desk and shook her head. “Can’t. I have at least two hours of work still.”
Jake nodded. “Maybe another time, then.”
Their eyes met, and Nicole went back, back two months ago, high up in the mountains. Those eyes had pulled her in, had consumed her. They were threatening to do that again. With difficulty, she looked away, making a show of straightening the papers on her desk.
“Can I ask you something?”
Nicole nodded.
“Are you… afraid of me?”
“Afraid? Of course not.”
“Maybe embarrassed?”
Nicole opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again. What could she say? Yes, she was embarrassed. That wanton, insatiable woman who had begged Jake to take her one last time, then one more… was simply not her. She didn’t do that. So, yes, she was embarrassed.
“Jake, I wish I could forget what happened. Obviously, the chances of us meeting again were very, very slim. But what happened between us, that’s just not me. I don’t do things like that.” Nicole finally dared to meet Jake’s eyes. “So I would appreciate it if we could just pretend that it never happened. I certainly don’t want to talk about it.”
Jake smiled. “I see. Embarrassed and ashamed.” Jake walked closer, her eyes never leaving Nicole’s. “But you know what? The time we spent together was far too incredible for me to want to forget it. Because I can still hear you scream,” Jake finished in a whisper.
Nicole’s breath caught and, with difficulty, she swallowed, finally pulling her eyes away. She sat up straighter, determined to forget. “I have a lot of work to do, Detective McCoy. If you don’t mind.”
Jake smiled at Nicole’s obvious discomfort and decided she’d play along with her and pretend that just being in her presence didn’t conjure up all kinds of delicious memories. “Okay, Doctor Westbrook. If you could just ask Catherine to get me the list?”
“Of course. Good night, Detective,” she said, as she reached for the phone, instructing Catherine.
Jake noticed the frown on Catherine’s face as she hung up the phone. No, this woman was not used to giving out information.
“I promise, it won’t get into the wrong hands,” Jake said, as she perched on the familiar corner of Catherine’s desk. “But three of the people on the list you’re about to give me have been murdered. I’ve got to find a connection before it happens again.”
“I don’t know what kind of influence you have over her, but she has never, ever given out information before,” Catherine said dis-approvingly.
“I don’t have any influence over her. Perhaps she recognizes the importance of these names.”
Catherine only shrugged, her mouse clicking away. Finally, she sat back, waiting as the printer began churning out pages.
“How many?”
“Forty-seven women.”
“Damn.” Jake waited patiently, watching the printer. Then she glanced at Catherine, smiling when the woman met her eyes. “How long have you worked for Dr. Westbrook?”
“A long time,” she said evasively.
Ah. Protective, Jake guessed. But, what the hell? “Is she… seeing anyone?” Jake asked quietly.
Catherine smiled. “Nicole sees a lot of people.”
Jake shrugged. “Okay. Is she… romantically involved with anyone? How’s that?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Jake lost her patience, grabbing at the papers on the printer. “Forget it. Thanks for the list, Catherine.” Jake walked quickly to the door, but stopped when Catherine called to her.
“Dr. Westbrook is single, Detective.” She grinned slightly. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”
Jake winked. “Thanks.”
———
Nicole tried to work. She really did. But transcribing her notes was proving to be a chore tonight, especially since she couldn’t get Jake out of her mind. “I can still hear you scream.”
“Good Lord,” she murmured. She tossed her pen down and leaned her head back, eyes squeezed shut. Yes, she could still recall her screams, too.
A quick knock on her door, and Catherine stuck her head in. “Heading out.” Then Catherine moved into the room. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Tired,” Nicole said.
“Why don’t you call it a night? It’s nearly six.”
“I am so behind on these notes, that’s why. If I don’t get them in while they’re still fairly fresh, I never will.”
“Okay. But don’t stay all night. We’ve got group tomorrow. That makes you cranky enough.”
“I won’t.” As Catherine turned to leave, Nicole called her back. “Did Detective McCoy get the list okay?”
“Yes, she did. There were forty-seven names on it, though. I think that threw her.”
“She has this crazy idea that someone’s killing women who have been referred from the crisis center to us.”
“Is it crazy?”
“Of course it is. Why would anyone want to kill these woman? They are victims several times over. There is no rhyme or reason for them to be targeted.”
“Awful lot of coincidence though, Nicole.”
Nicole sighed. “Yes. I suppose so.” Jake’s words came back to her. Was she a target?
———
Jake sat on one corner of her sofa, absently rubbing Cheyenne’s head as she read through the list of women and their addresses. They were mostly scattered across the city. No way they could watch them all. Hell, no way they could even interview them all.
She tossed the list down and picked up her drink, taking a sip, enjoying the fire of the Scotch as she swallowed.
Well, one thing was certain. They still had shit to go on. But ultimately, if the crisis center wasn’t the target, then Nicole was.
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Patrice Kane, please,” Nicole said. “It’s Dr. Westbrook.”
“Of course, Dr. Westbrook. One moment.”
Nicole tried to convince herself not to worry about this, that the police could handle it. After all, she’d had numerous threats over the years. But still, three murders. Three murders close to home. Jake’s words were still running through her mind.
“Hello, Nicole. I thought I’d be hearing from you,” Patrice said.
“So the police have been bothering you, too?”
“Not bothering. Detective McCoy and some… guy.”
“Yes. They’ve been here. What do you think?”
“Well, it’s troubling, of course. But what can we really do about it? I’d thought about handing over all the threatening mail that we get, but it would take them weeks to go through it.”
“Still get that much?”
“Daily, I’m afraid.”
Nicole sighed. “Yes, I get my share.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t mind calling that detective for a little protection,” Patrice said with a laugh. “It’s been awhile since someone’s gotten my juices flowing just by standing next to me. Good Lord, but she’s cute.”
Nicole was shocked by the stab of jealously that shot through her. She nearly bristled, then reminded herself that she didn’t care one way or the other. Jake was but an acquaintance, Patrice a colleague and social friend. If Patrice wanted to snag her claws into Jake, so be it. And with that said, she simply ignored her statement and pretended that her heart wasn’t beating just a little too fast.
“I’m going to have Catherine go through the handful of letters we get each week from disgruntled husbands. Just in case. I gave Detective McCoy a list of your referrals, by the way.”
“You did? I told her she’d have a hard time getting information from you, Nicole. I know you’re a stickler for the confidentiality rules.”
“Yes. Normally I am.”
Patrice laughed. “I know what you mean. That woman had me ready to hand over all my files.”
Nicole couldn’t help it. “She
got to you, I see.”
“God, yes. I just wanted to sit and stare at her.”
“Well, I didn’t give her information because she’s a pretty face. She has legitimate arguments. And she promised the information would not leave her hands.”
Patrice laughed again. “And you just took her word? Nicole, I remember the time you forced them to get a court order for one of your files when they were trying to nail the husband for rape of your patient’s sister.”
Nicole sighed. Yes. And she had just handed everything over to Jake without a fight. “Well, thank you for pointing that out, Patrice. Perhaps I’m becoming more flexible in my old age.”
“Feel like dinner one night? We haven’t been out in ages.”
“I’d like to, but I’m usually up here until seven most evenings. It would have to be late.”
“That’s okay with me. I’m dying to get the gossip on Deb Fisher.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you asked her out, and she turned you down. It’s not like Deb to turn anyone down.”
“Where in the world did you hear that?” Nicole demanded, as she grabbed the bridge of her nose. Damn Debra Fisher! Deb couldn’t stand to be turned down, so she had to get the word out before Nicole announced it. Jesus, as if she’d go around telling people that Debra Fisher had propositioned her!
“A group of us had drinks the other night,” Patrice said. “I forget who brought it up.”
It was on the tip of her tongue, but Nicole decided not to stoop to Deb’s level. Well, that, and the fact that no one would believe her. So, she tried the graceful way out.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly like that, Patrice. Call me in a few weeks if you want to get dinner,” Nicole said.
“I will. And let me know if there’s anything I can do with this police investigation.”
Nicole’s reply was cut short as she heard the dial tone. Police investigation? She wasn’t being investigated. Was she?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“There are forty-seven,” Jake said. “Well, forty-four that are still alive. But even then, it’s not like we can watch them all.”
“Some have maybe moved away,” Gina suggested.
“I’m sure they have. But we still can’t do surveillance. How about this? Of these forty-four women, let’s break it down to whose husband, boyfriend, whatever, is still on the inside. Or was incarcerated and is now out. And find out if Dr. Westbrook was involved in any of their trials.”
“That still won’t tell us how someone got his hands on this list,” Lieutenant Gregory said.
“The connection has to be the crisis center,” Rick said.
“But they don’t keep records. Not on a computer, anyway. There’s no way they could have gotten a list,” Jake reminded him.
“Maybe they didn’t need a list. Maybe they work there and just… knew.”
Jake shook her head. “That makes no sense. Two of our victims were referred three years ago.”
“So maybe it’s a former employee,” Gregory said. “Simpson, let’s check that out. See if you can get employee records, going back at least three years.”
“I think that Dr. Westbrook is the target,” Jake said.
“If she was the target, she’d have been popped by now,” Rick said.
“Why? He’s in control this way. Picking off her patients, one by one. Making her watch her back, making her think that maybe it’s her fault this is happening. Eventually, it’ll affect her practice. I mean, who’s going to want to see a shrink whose patients are get-ting whacked? And then, when he’s had his fun, he takes her out.”
Gregory shrugged. “Okay. I’ll buy it. How cooperative is Dr. Westbrook?”
“Well, she’s given us what we want so far,” Jake said.
“See if she’s up for a detail. We can spare a unit to follow her home at night, hang out. But let’s find our guy. Gina, you do background on our list.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Simpson?”
“Crisis center. I’m on it.”
“Take Chase with you. Jake, can you handle Dr. Westbrook?”
Jake let a ghost of a smile touch her face and nodded. “I’m on it.”
———
Nicole held the door open, smiling reassuringly to the women as they walked past. The group session had been good, beneficial even, for only their second meeting.
“Dr. Westbrook?”
“Yes, Joni?”
“I wasn’t real enthused about this group session, you know.”
Nicole smiled. “Yes, I know.”
“But, I feel better today. It was good to listen to others.”
“Good.” Nicole affectionately squeezed her arm. “It helps, sometimes, to know that you’re not alone in situations like this.”
“Yeah, it does.” The other woman smiled for what Nicole thought was the first time since she’d met her. “I’ll see you next Tuesday, Dr. Westbrook.”
“Have a wonderful weekend, Joni.”
Nicole waited until the elevator doors opened for Joni before going back inside, but she stopped as a familiar figure got off just as Joni got on. Jake caught her eyes, a slow smile forming on her face, a smile that Nicole returned.
“Hanging out in the hallway?”
“I just had a group session. Joni was the last to leave.”
“Group, huh? Any of them on my list?”
Nicole sighed and nodded. “A couple.” She walked back into the small lobby with Jake following. “Has it helped at all?”
Jake shrugged. “Just getting started on it.”
“I see. And what can I help you with today?”
Jake arched an eyebrow. “Actually, I came to talk to Catherine.”
“Oh.” Nicole hoped the surprise and perhaps disappointment didn’t show on her face. She stepped aside and pointed at Catherine. “She’s all yours. I have some paperwork to catch up on.”
“Thanks.”
Nicole met Catherine’s eyes briefly, then walked into her own office and shut the door. She leaned against it for a second, eyes closed. Jealous of your secretary! God, you’re pathetic.
———
“How are you doing today, Catherine,” Jake asked easily, walking to sit on her usual corner of the desk.
Catherine smiled, wondering why she wasn’t immune to this woman’s charm. No wonder Nicole had melted. “I’m fine, Detective.”
“Jake, please. I hate all that detective stuff.”
“Okay.” Catherine leaned back to look up at the other woman. “You really came to see me?”
Jake smiled. “Well, you and the doc.” Jake turned serious.
“Listen, have you been getting any strange phone calls, hang-ups, heavy breathing, anything like that?”
Catherine laughed. “All the time.”
Jake pulled out her notebook and pen. “Oh, yeah? Tell me about it.”
“Jake, I’ve worked here for years. We’ve always gotten calls like that.”
“Oh. What about the mail? What about threatening letters and such.”
“That, too.”
“Great,” Jake said dryly. “Have you gotten anything recently?”
“Had a pretty good one last week. Normally, they just threaten Dr. Westbrook, but this one included me.”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still have it?”
Catherine shook her head. “No. I don’t keep those things. They make me nervous.”
Jake leaned forward. “Tell me what you remember about it.”
“Well, it was pretty typical. They mostly blame Dr. Westbrook for them losing their wives and families, and they vow revenge. This one was no different. It said something about taking away her life, little by little, including your loyal secretary. Something like that.”
Jake scribbled quickly on her notepad, eyebrows drawn together. “Do you think this particular guy has written before?”
“I couldn’t say. Usually, I get letters like that, I just throw them away with
out reading them.”
“And you never thought to contact the police about these letters?”
“Jake, when I first started working here and got the first one, I freaked out. But Nicole said I’d get used to it. And I have. We get letters weekly.”
Jake nodded. “Okay. Do me a favor? If you get another one, hang on to it. I’d like to see it.” She pulled her card out and handed it to Catherine. “My cell is on there. You can reach me anytime.” She stood up. “Now I’m going to bug your boss.”
Catherine smiled. “Well, good luck. She’s been in a mood the last few days.”
“A mood?”
Catherine shrugged. “She won’t tell me what’s bothering her.”
“I see. Well, hopefully, she won’t bite my head off.”
———
Nicole looked up as her door opened, and Jake walked inside, closing the door behind her.
“Busy?”
Nicole sighed. “Yes. Does that matter?”
Jake smiled. “No.”
“I didn’t think so,” she murmured. “I thought you wanted to talk to Catherine.”
“I did. I also wanted to talk to you.”
“Well, Detective, I can spare a few—”
“Let’s stop this, Nicole,” Jake interrupted.
“Stop what?”
“Stop this bullshit. Stop pretending we don’t know each other. Stop pretending that we… we haven’t seen each other naked. Stop pretending that we’re damn strangers.”
Nicole stared at Jake’s flashing eyes, trying to ignore that she was aroused by her words. “What brought that on?”
“This formality between us, Nicole. That’s what brought it on. If you want to pretend that it didn’t happen, you can. But don’t pretend in front of me. Because I know it did happen.” Jake walked closer. “And because it did happen, and because I know you, that’s why I’m fucking concerned about this goddamn case,” Jake said, her voice rising.
Nicole swallowed, her eyes never leaving Jake’s. “I’m sorry. I’m only pretending it didn’t happen because I… I wish it hadn’t. That’s not me. You’re not me.”
Jake frowned. “I’m not you? What does that mean?”
Nicole sighed and leaned her head back. “You’re not my type, Jake. I’ve never been… with anyone like you.”