He was in this work for a couple reasons. One was turning these old buildings back into something useful and new, while rehabilitating them for use by the public. Most often for low-income families, homeless shelters, and often women’s shelters, although not everybody knew about them. This town had a huge need for senior living facilities as well. Which is precisely what this one would be.
As Simon headed off, after this final meeting, and walked toward home, he pulled out his phone again. “You called,” he said, when she answered.
“I did,” Kate answered briskly. “Remember that nightmare?”
“Which one?” he asked in a hard voice. “There’s been a few lately, and why the hell do I have to remember them anyway?”
“You don’t,” she acknowledged, “but you and I both know that whatever is going on in your psyche won’t let you rest until whatever the hell is going on is solved.”
“That’s an awful lot of vagaries,” he noted.
“Well, anytime you want to give me something definitive,” she replied in a cheerful voice, “I’d be happy to have them.” Her voice dropped as she added, “Especially right now.”
“Ah hell.” He stopped in his tracks; a person walking behind him bumped into him. With both of them apologizing and moving out of each other’s way, he hissed into the phone. “What did you find?”
“A pretty ugly scenario,” she replied quietly.
“I don’t really want to deal with any more ugly scenarios.”
“I get that,” she noted, “but, in this case, I’m not sure any of us have a choice.”
“Why not?” he snapped.
“Because her vocal cords were cut,” she answered quietly. “To stop her from screaming.”
A long, drawn-out hiss escaped as Simon realized which nightmare Kate was talking about.
“Ah, crap, the woman who was screaming but not screaming.”
“Yep, that one. At least as far as I can figure, that’s the one we’re talking about.”
“Meaning that I have more than one nightmare?”
“No,” she stated, with a note of finality. “Just hoping that we don’t have more than one murder victim.”
“Isn’t your desk piled rather high?”
“Too damn high,” she groaned.
“So it’s not like murder takes a holiday.”
“No, it doesn’t, unfortunately.”
He groaned. “What do you need from me?”
“As always, anything you have to give.”
“Wow, Detective,” he said in a mocking voice. “I didn’t know you cared.”
“You know I care,” she snapped right back in a pithy voice. “You just don’t know if I care very much.”
He shook his head at that because it was very true. He wasn’t even sure where the hell their relationship was at these days. She was independent, and, as much as he wanted her to be less independent, she struggled with their relationship as it was right now. “Fine,” he muttered. “What would you like from me?”
“A heads-up if you get any insights.”
“You know I’m pushing them away.”
“But I know that sometimes they won’t let you push them away. And, Simon, I get that you don’t want to do this,” she said. “I really do. But I’ve got to tell you, I really don’t want to stand over any more women who were in the condition of the one I saw today.”