Virna DePaul - Shades of Passion

She gasped when Granger held it open.

“I’m coming with you.”

She glared at him. “No. You are not. I’ll evaluate the patient and report back in a minute.”

“But—”

“Let go of the door right now, Detective, or I’ll have no choice but to call security and have you thrown out.”

Their gazes held and clashed for several seconds and she had to force herself not to look away from the pure fury in his. Slowly, however, he released his grip on the door and stepped back. With an imperceptible sigh of relief, Nina shut the door, blocking out his scowling face.

* * *

“SHE A PSYCHIATRIST?” Officer Rieger asked Simon.

“Yeah.” Simon stared at the door through which she’d disappeared.

“I hope she’s a good one.”

Despite the way she’d managed to get under his skin, Simon had a feeling she was better than good. The problem was, she could be the very best and he still wouldn’t like it. If she could help them get the information they needed, great, but he knew what would happen either way. She’d already referred to their perp as a “patient.” As soon as she came back out, she’d start talking about helping the guy. Trying to help the man who’d kidnapped a little girl and probably had done God knows what to her already. And when that happened, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to—

The door opened and Nina stepped out.

“Can we go in and see him now?” Simon asked.

She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s indeed having a psychotic break. He doesn’t know where he is but he feels threatened. The doctor gave him Haloperidol, a quick-acting antipsychotic, but he’s still having delusional thoughts. Right now, he needs to get his brain activity settled. He’s operating in a vastly different reality than we are.”

“So what are you going to do?” Simon growled. “Light incense and sing Kumbaya?”

She narrowed her eyes in warning. To Simon, sass and intelligence had always been an alluring addition to physical beauty. This woman had all three in spades. Too bad they had a life-or-death situation at hand. If the situation was different, and despite what she did for a living, he might be up for exploring what made Nina tick.

“If that’s what it takes,” she said. “You want the information, don’t you? The only chance I have of getting it is to establish trust with him and make him feel safe. And the only way I’m going to be able to do that is if I know he’s actually going to be safe.”

“Meaning what?”

“He looks like he’s been roughed up.” She glanced pointedly over his shoulder at Officer Rieger.

Simon didn’t jump to any conclusions. He knew better than most how dangerous a cop’s job was. It was easy to judge a cop’s actions once danger had passed, but unless you’d been in his shoes... “I don’t know anything about that,” he said softly.

“No, but he does.”

“He resisted arrest,” Officer Rieger clipped out.

Nina glared at the young officer. “He thinks we’re all aliens who want to suck out his brain. Of course he resisted.”

“You’re bartering with me for promises of leniency?” Simon asked, his expression and tone incredulous. And pissed. “When what I’m asking for is information to help save a little girl?”

She returned her gaze to his. Bit her lip as if contemplating his words, then shook her head. “Wanting a man to be treated with basic respect is not the same thing as asking for leniency. I’ll do everything I can to get you the information. But you involved me, which means Mr. Callahan is now my patient, and that means I’ll be doing whatever is necessary to make sure he’s treated with dignity.”

“Mr. Callahan, huh? Yes, let’s think about his needs instead of the little girl he kidnapped. At least you’ve got your priorities straight, Doc,” Simon sneered.

“I need to go in now. But this is going to take a while. And I can’t promise anything.”

“Nothing but taking good care of your patient, you mean?”

Her back stiffened and she paused with her hand on the door, but she didn’t turn back around. Instead, she said softly, “I’m well aware of what’s at stake, Detective. Don’t think for a minute that I’m not.” She stepped back into the room and shut the door with a decisive click.

An hour later, Simon was about to barrel into the examination room when Nina finally stepped out. She looked flushed, her expression pinched, but she immediately locked gazes with him. “I have something. I can’t know for sure, but...”

“What is it?”

“He grew up in a house in Pacifica. 180 West 27th Street. He said it’s the place he always felt safe. Safe to be who he truly is. Safe from the aliens.”

Without taking his gaze off her, he snapped, “Rieger?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s go.” To Nina, he said, “Keep talking to him.” He handed her a card. “Here’s my cell. If he says anything to make you think we’re headed in the wrong direction, call me.”

“I will. Good luck. I hope you find her.”

“I hope so, too.”

They found the girl in the basement of Michael Callahan’s family home. She’d been tied up and was dehydrated, her skin ice-cold and turning blue. Her pulse was thready and her breathing labored. She was exhibiting signs of exposure, shock and an asthmatic attack. Simon carried her out just as an ambulance pulled up in front.

“We’ve got it from here, sir.”

As he stared at the girl, Simon thought of Lana. Despite what he’d told Mac earlier, he had the sudden thought that he’d failed her. Had he failed this girl, too? Waited too long to get to her? Should he have muscled his way into that examination room and beaten the location out of her abductor?

“Sir, please. Give her to me.”

Simon reluctantly gave the girl to the medic.

He followed the ambulance to the nearby hospital.

And he stayed until the doctors told him the little girl would be okay.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A WEEK AFTER THEY’D found Rebecca Hyatt, the little girl Michael Callahan had kidnapped, Simon sat at his desk in SIG’s detective pit. He finished typing up his report on the Cann murder, stuck it in the folder and filed it along with the other “as-of-yet unsolved” crimes that would be occasionally looked at but otherwise relegated to the back burner. Between Simon and DeMarco, they’d followed every lead and interviewed everyone they could think of, patrol cops included, but had come up empty. Add the fact that their only witness, Rita Taylor, had recanted her statement about Cann’s killer being a cop—she now insisted that what she’d thought was a police uniform might actually have been that of a city bus driver or air-conditioning repairman—and it was time to move on to the next case. First, however, he had to do the final report on the Michael Callahan incident.

In front of him laid the daily newspaper from the day after the event. He’d seen the article when it had come out. He’d kept a copy to add to the file. Now, he skimmed the article again and cursed.

Doc Finds Child but Public Suspicion of Police Continues

The article was chock-full of information. First, it detailed several recent incidents between police and mentally ill suspects, some of whom had been homeless, and all of whom had claimed police brutality. Next, it referred to the murder of Mr. Cann, a homeless veteran, and the “rumor” that a cop had been responsible, though thankfully it didn’t identify Rita Taylor as a potential witness. Finally, the article touched on Rebecca Hyatt’s rescue, though again the reporter had been smart enough not to include the little girl’s name.

He’d had no such qualms about Simon. Or Nina Whitaker. Or Officer Rieger or Michael Callahan. According to Callahan’s parents, their son was schizophrenic and hadn’t meant to harm anyone, and they were grateful Nina had been able to work with him to find the girl’s location; funny how people didn’t mind exposing skeletons if doing so meant it might keep a loved one out of jail.