Simon Says... Jump (Kate Morgan Thrillers Book 2)

by Dale Mayer

  When Simon answered, she opened the door, and asked, “What are you doing here?”

  He looked at her, wrapped only in a towel, his gaze appreciatively moving up and down, and he said, “Are you going to invite me in?”

  His voice had dropped deep and husky, his eyes widening, and she could almost smell the pheromones that immediately lit up and turned her bones to molten lava. “Christ,” she said.

  He stepped inside, shoving her forward gently with his body. “Come on. Invite me inside,” he said, and he slammed the door hard.

  “You’re inside,” she whispered.

  He looked at her and, when he saw the weapon, one eyebrow went up. She shook her head. “Are you really that wary?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” She took a step back and said, “I need to go get dressed.”

  “Not for my sake,” he said, pulling her into his arms. Lowering his head where their lips barely touched, he whispered, “You never did invite me in.”

  “I didn’t want to be distracted.” She placed her handgun on the side table, where her keys rested. “Now,” she threw her arms around his neck and whispered, “distract me.”

  And then she crushed her mouth against his. He picked her up in a motion she wasn’t expecting, so smooth and with more power than she had even contemplated he could muster. He carried her through to the bedroom and, without warning, lowered both of them onto the mattress. It wasn’t just a coupling, but something hard, fast, and furious, yet incredibly sexy, as he drove her passion to the point where she couldn’t do a thing. She was mindless, as he slipped his hands over her body, up and down, caressing, smoothing, and calming. And yet, with every touch, her temperature rose; her cries came out as tiny wails, as he whispered, “Easy, easy, honey.”

  She shook her head. “No, it can’t be easy.” She pivoted and shifted, knocking him onto his back, where she quickly divested him of his clothing. “It’s only fair,” she said, half panting.

  “Oh, I agree,” he said, as he took off his shirt. In seconds, he had his pants off, but the boxers were a whole different story, with her hands firmly wrapped around his erection. He groaned heavily, and his hips shot upward, and he swore.

  She laughed. “Turnabout is fair play.”

  By the time he got stripped down, there was no time to take off his socks before she was already astride him. He gasped and froze.

  She slowly, gingerly lowered herself down his shaft, just a few inches, then she stopped. He glared up at her. She smiled, stretched his arms over his head, and whispered, “See? Turnabout is fair play.”

  He nodded and pulled a simple but fast maneuver, and suddenly she was the one underneath. As he sat here, poised at the entrance to the heart of her, he whispered, “Exactly. Turnabout is fair play,” and, with one hard movement, he plunged deep.

  She cried out, her body arching under his onslaught, and, within seconds, exploded.

  He chuckled out loud. “Now it’s my turn,” he said, then drove hard, fast, and so damn deep that she felt it, almost as if she were split inside, and she couldn’t stand it; she wanted so much more. By the time he groaned and shuddered above her, she was coming apart at the seams yet again.

  When he collapsed beside her, he wrapped her up in his arms, pulled her close, and, when she went to say something, he placed a finger against her lips and whispered, “Later. Much later.”

  *

  Good timing on his part. Simon had hoped that Kate would be home soon but hadn’t really expected to catch her fresh from a shower. He expected a bigger argument from her, but obviously something was tormenting her. And, with her in his arms as she curled up beside him, her breath even and deep, he realized she’d fallen asleep. Her guard was down, even if just for a moment.

  He loved that about her; she lived in the moment. She gave 100 percent to whatever she focused on.

  Right now, she was 100 percent asleep, at peace, like the angel she was. He lowered his lips to her temple, kissed her gently, and settled in deeper. He didn’t know what the hell he would do with her. The last thing he wanted was a cop in his world, mostly because, well, he already knew what she thought about his psychic ability.

  He wondered if she’d ever come up with anything on that number thirteen that still drove through his head. And how was she handling Louisa? That was a whole different problem. Plus he had yet to share the voice urging him to Do it, whatever the hell it was. By the time he worked his way through it all, he shrugged, realizing he could do nothing about any of it. So he closed his eyes and fell asleep right beside her.

  Chapter 10

  Sunday Morning

  Kate woke with a start, instantly sitting up, her body sore and yet thrumming with joy. She sagged back down onto the bed and noted it was empty, the covers tossed wildly about. She smiled because, of all the things that she felt right now, perfect topped the description. After a quick second shower she got dressed, realizing that the apartment was very cold and empty. Sad that he wasn’t still here, she headed to the kitchen, where she found a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her with a small note.

  Look after yourself.

  A tiny heart was drawn beneath it.

  “Silly fool,” she said affectionately. She couldn’t justify why, but she picked up the little note and tucked it among her other personal papers. It was foolish and sentimental, but she wasn’t quite ready to throw it out. Shrugging at the silliness, she sat and had a cup of coffee with her toast and then a second cup, before heading off to work. She had a long agenda and not the least of which was to start searching the crowds to see if she found somebody who was at the multiple crime scenes—whether for the jumpers or for the drive-by shootings.

  As she headed into work, she reached the same set of steps while going inside as Rodney. He looked at her, then raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She appreciated that. Because, of course, one of the big jokes had been about her nonexistent sex life. She didn’t want to think about the reality that she now was in a relationship, which she would rather keep secret, yet was easily revealed on her face, so too bad; her team would just have to deal with it. She headed into the office and didn’t bother grabbing coffee right away, instead bringing up the crime scene photos.

  Rodney looked at her and said, “What’s the matter, no coffee?”

  “I already had a couple cups,” she said thoughtfully. “Do we have any video camera footage from the other drive-by shootings?”

  “We have one,” he said. “I was just pulling it up to see if we could do some cross-referencing.” She explained what she was thinking of, and he nodded. “I talked to Owen about it this morning,” he said. “It’s a good thought, although it doesn’t explain why he took off to West Vancouver.”

  “Well, it does if he thought he was being followed or if he had a reason to go over there or even if he was just trying to distract everybody. We don’t even know for sure that he was even driving the truck by then.”

  “That’s true enough,” he said. “Here is what we’ve got on the second shooting.”

  “And what about the one from three years ago?”

  Rodney shook his head. “I’m not sure that we do. Plus I’m not sure it’s the same guy either.”

  “Well, we’re pretty sure it’s the same vehicle,” she said.

  “Okay, I’ll give you that—or at least a copycat from back then maybe.”

  “And that’s still important too,” she said, “because somebody has got to know something. And, if we’ve got a copycat here, it’s even more important because he may not have the same closing-down routine that the other guy did.”

  “You really think the other guy did more than one at the time?”

  “Well, this guy is not stopping,” she said. “What’s the count now? Two shootings in four days?”

  “Something like that,” he said.

  “Any other drive-bys anywhere else?” she asked him.

  “We need to run a search and see if anything else matches.”


  “So we better get at all that now.”

  By lunchtime, Rodney and Kate both sat back, their eyes sore and weary. They had picked up two more recent shootings, and there was even one more shooting from three years ago.

  “So,” Rodney said to Kate, “you think he just, out of the blue, started up again, only twice as ferociously?”

  “That means this guy wasn’t around for some reason between the events of three years ago and now.”

  “If he just got out of jail?” Rodney offered.

  “Yeah, that’s possible,” Kate replied, “or if he, well, depending on why he’s doing this, maybe he had cancer or something, and there’s a recurrence of it now.”

  Rodney looked at her with respect. “You know what? That’s a valuable point too. If we’re thinking that’s why he’s killing these healthy young males, then seeing the recurrence of an illness that he thought he’d beat could trigger him in a way that set off the same reaction.”

  “And even more viciously,” she murmured.

  He nodded. “Agreed. But we still haven’t really found much.”

  “No, we haven’t,” she said, frowning.

  “When searching the videos, to see if our shooter was coming back to the scene of the crime, I’m finding it hard to see anyone standing out in the crowds gathered at the scene. I was looking more for the hat.”

  “Interesting,” she said. “I wasn’t. I was taking the hat off, assuming that would be one of the best disguises.”

  “And yet, if any camera caught him,” Rodney said, “he would be caught then.”

  She frowned and said, “Why don’t we switch?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I saw all of these ones, and I didn’t see anybody show up to all of the recent shootings. Why don’t we switch? You take a look at mine, and I’ll take a look at yours.” Once she started looking, she saw it almost immediately. “Here,” she said. “Take a look at this one.”

  He rolled his desk chair toward her desk, took a look at it, and said, “See? I was looking for the guys with the hats.”

  She moved over to the closest unmanned computer, switched to the city camera and the video that she was looking for, and finally, after twenty minutes, she said, “Here it is.”

  He looked at it and whistled. “You know something? I think you’re right.”

  She nodded. “And if he was at two—”

  “Then maybe he was at all of them. Yes!” he said, and that started a frenzy of searching. In the middle of it all, her phone rang. She answered absentmindedly. “Yes?”

  “It’s Louisa,” she said. “Did you think any more about the laptop?”

  She frowned into the phone. “It’s in Forensics,” she said. “As soon as I can get the material off it that we need, I can get it back to you.”

  “In Forensics?” Louisa said nervously. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It just means that they’re the ones who deal with electronics,” she said, trying for reassurance. “Simon did tell me that you wanted it back early.”

  “Yes, yes,” she said eagerly. “I do.”

  “Well, I’m doing the best I can,” she said. “Give me a day or so.” And, with that, she said, “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go,” and she hung up on the woman.

  Rodney looked at her in surprise, “What was that?”

  “The wife of the one jumper, David. She wants his laptop back.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  “Something about wanting stuff for the eulogy.”

  “Well, that would make sense.”

  “Maybe,” she said, “but you know that she handed it over quite freely.”

  “But maybe she didn’t understand how long Forensics needed it.”

  She shrugged. “Well, they probably got everything off that laptop that they want.” And, with that, she picked up the phone and then stopped. “You know what? I put a bunch of stuff on a rush for them over this last week. This is hardly something I can put a rush on as well.”

  He nodded and said, “You’re learning. Remember. We have to be reasonable, and everyone thinks their cases come first, but we also have to have some consideration for people in these departments.”

  “Meaning, don’t ask for a rush if we really don’t need it. I get it.”

  “Exactly.”

  She nodded. “In that case, I’ll let it ride for another day or so.”

  “Do that,” he said, “and, besides, I can’t imagine that she’ll get the body back any time soon.”

  She looked over at him. “I think it’s to be released today.”

  He looked surprised at that. “Why? If we’re looking at it as a possible murder, you would think they’d keep it longer.”

  “Not necessarily,” she said. “They’ve already done what they need to do. Anything we may find at this point is moot—or at least not related to the evidence found on the body.”

  He nodded. “In that case, maybe she does need it.”

  She groaned. “I’m heading over there anyway. I’ll see how it looks before I ask.” With that, she got up and headed to the computer geeks’ corner.

  When Kate walked in, Bronwyn looked up, and she said, “It’s not done.”

  “Yeah, sorry,” Kate said. “I was looking at a couple other things here too.”

  “Of course you are,” she said, with a frown.

  “I was just wondering if you could get a better image off this video feed,” Kate said. “We found the same guy at two of the drive-by shootings.”

  At that, her eyebrows shot up, and Bronwyn said, “Let me look at it.”

  “Where’s Stoop?”

  “He’s on lunch.”

  “Okay, good,” Kate said. “I hate to say it, but that lady is looking to get her husband’s laptop back, whenever you guys have everything you need from it and can release it.”

  “I think we’re …” she said. “Let me talk to Stoop when he gets back.”

  Kate nodded and asked, “And these photos?”

  “We got it,” she said. “I’ll get it back as soon as I can.”

  “Thanks, Bronwyn.” Kate smiled, then turned and headed out.

  Once outside, she stopped in the fresh air and looked around. She was immediately aware of that weird sensation again, as if being followed, and she didn’t think she liked it much. But no way to know who or what it was. She looked around carefully, then shrugged and headed back to her office again. As she walked into the bullpen, her cell phone buzzed, and she found a bunch of emails downloaded onto her phone. When she got to her desk, she brought them up on the big screen, then stopped and swore.

  “Now what?” Rodney said.

  She said, “Another photo.”

  He looked at her in surprise and said, “What do you mean, another photo?”

  She said, “Come here.”

  The message this time read You’re too slow. As she moved down the screen, another picture of a bridge and a pair of sparkly sneakers appeared.

  “Ah, crap,” he said, “this guy again.”

  “Not only this guy,” she said, “but this guy is getting even more active.”

  “Yeah, buoyed by success,” he said. “I really hate this.”

  Almost automatically, she reached for the phone and checked in with the desk sergeant to see if any reports of suicide had come in overnight. As soon as she heard the reply, she groaned and sat back. “I need the report,” she said.

  “We haven’t gotten an official one in yet,” said the officer at the other end.

  “Then can you tell me who the attending officers are?” She quickly wrote down the names, found the contacts, and called the first one on her list. “Did you get called out on a suicide this morning?” she asked, after identifying herself.

  “Yes,” he said, “I just got the report in, so I can send you the details.”

  “Oh, good,” she said. “So you saw the bulletin then?”

  “Yes,” he said. “This is a young woman, twenty-
three years old. Her name is Pasha, and the last name is something like Niletto.”

  “Fine,” she said. “Do we know anything about her? Any history?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t know anything, but the divers do have her up though.”

  “Okay, good enough,” she said. “Send me that report as soon as you log it in.” She ended the call, slowly looked over at the rest of the team, and, in a grim voice, said, “We have another jumper.”

  Just then Andy walked back in. She looked up at him and asked, “Did you get anywhere on those chats?”

  “Lots of talk,” he said. “I’ve been acting like I’m suicidal, not ready to switch that around to being positive about life yet.”

  “Well, it was a twenty-three-year-old woman this morning,” she said. “And that photo I got—surely from the guy inciting these suicides—was most likely of her sneakers, although I don’t have anything to confirm that. They’re sending me the report as soon as it’s done.”

  “Good enough,” he said. “This is sick.”

  “Very sick. I’m not impressed at all.” She sat back, her fingers thrumming. “Of course Forensics has David’s laptop, and they’re going through the chats themselves, but I’m not sure they’ll find much.”

  “No, we need this guy to get back online again,” Andy said. “I’ll check out what’s changed, what’s different on the chats, and see if I can find out who this asshole is.”

  “Appreciate it,” she said, “and make sure you keep the Forensics guys in the loop.”

  He laughed. “We already touched base because they were double-checking my ID. So I gave Stoop my ID and explained what I was doing. They laughed because they had it logged already but had forgotten about it.”

  “Good enough,” she said. She looked over at Rodney. “Did you find anything new on our drive-by shooter?”