She nodded. “More than just time and patience, I’m running out of avenues to look at.” And, with that, she added, “I’ll head down and check with the neighbors. If nothing else, I need to write it right off.”
“Got it,” Rodney agreed, “and, if you’re lucky, you won’t catch another case in the meantime.”
She winced. “I would hope not.”
But she also knew that, as far as that murder time frame went in Vancouver, there was always an average of one or two a week, if not three times that. She didn’t have much time, before something else would require her attention.
And she could fight it all she wanted, but the next victim deserved her attention just as much as these did.
*
Simon sent Katea text at the end of the normal workday, but, when she didn’t answer, he didn’t worry about it because herwork kept her from answering phone calls on a regular basis. He headed back to his place, determined to cook something instead of ordering in tonight. He’d picked up a couple beautiful steaks at the butcher shop, and all he needed now was some greens to go with it. If he wanted more, he could always do potatoes, and he still had a few of those at home.
Stopping off at one of his favorite produce stores, he picked up a few items and then headed outside and walked back to his place. It was a long walk, and, by the time he got there, he was tired and more than ready for a glass of wine outside on the balcony. Harry was at his usual post, and Simon lifted a hand, as he headed to the elevator. “Don’t you ever take time off?” Simon called out.
“I get my days off,” Harry confirmed. “It just seems that I’m usually off when you’re spending time with your little chickadee.”
“Well, that doesn’t seem like enough downtime for you,” Simon noted, “And I sure don’t get to spend nearly enough time with her.”
He laughed. “She’s the only one I know who’s resisted your charms as much as she has.”
“I don’t know how much she’s resisting, but she’s definitely not like the others.”
“And that’s a good thing,” Harry noted. “No insult intended, but the others weren’t keepers.”
At that, Simon burst out laughing, as the elevator doors closed in front of him. That was a very true analysis. The others weren’t keepers, and even his ex fiancée Caitlin ended up being a freaking nightmare. That they were now capable of speaking to each other said a lot about how far they had moved forward. Yet it was not as if he would make the mistake of going back down that pathway, not now and not ever. Caitlin wasn’t somebody he wanted a do-over with. Particularly now that he had Katein his life, revealing how lacking his other relationships had been. And Kate was a completely different animal. Independent, feisty, refusing to fall into line just because he wanted her to. And sometimes refusing precisely because he wanted her to. He shook his head at that.
“Trust you, Simon, to find somebody who would complicate your life more than you ever thought possible.”
The trouble was, at the same time, she had also brought him more joy and peace than he’d ever thought possible. How could he argue with that?
Upstairs in his penthouse, he quickly traded his blazer and slacks for a pair of shorts and a tank. Pouring himself a cold beer, he sat outside on the balcony. He was uptight and stressed, and it was one of those days when even walking miles hadn’t been enough to loosen it up. He hated being that uncomfortable in his own home. He did a simple workout and then moved into a yoga stretch, loosening up his back and lower legs.
With that done, he opened up the package of steaks, quickly seasoned them, and left them sitting on a plate, while he prepped the potatoes. He layered potato slices in between cheese and onions and butter, then wrapped them up in tinfoil and had that ready to go into his preheated oven, and then quickly tossed a Caesar salad. After that, he turned on the barbecue and oiled up the grill. As he waited for that to heat up, he realized he’d made enough for two. Frowning, he studied the meal, then decided he might as well find out for sure. He picked up the phone and called Kate. This time she answered. “Any chance you’re coming my way for dinner?”
She burst out laughing. “So, is that an invitation?”
“Well, I just finished prepping everything and realized I’d made enough for two.” He heard the smile in her voice when she spoke next.
“You know something? A home-cooked meal sounds pretty damn nice. Depends on the timing though.”
“When are you off?”
“Now,” she replied, “but I’m down by the beach, making a few quick visits to some neighbors here.”
“So, you’ll be at least forty minutes?”
She thought about it and said, “Yeah, forty minutes is probably pretty close.”
“Good,” he replied. “If you’ll be any later than that, give me a shout.”
“Will do,” she stated.
He hung up, a grin on his face. It was a roundabout way of making an invitation, but he honestly hadn’t thought about it when he was shopping or prepping the food; he’d just naturally made enough for her too. Because, in his heart of hearts, this is where she belonged. He found that because there was just nobelongingwith her, she would go and do whatever she felt she needed to do. Sometimes he wondered if it wasn’t fear keeping her from committing to something more.
He’d been reticent about pushing the issue because she really wasn’t yet open to the discussion. It’s not that she was shutting it down; it’s just that, any time it came up, there seemed to be another reason for her to talk about something completely different. So, either she was really good at changing the conversation or she was really good at avoiding the conversation. And, in this case, both scenarios were probably very true.
He had plenty of work to do, so he sat down at his laptop, with a pad and pencil, and got after it. He started writing down some notes about what he needed to fix up and change on his projects, but, as he was writing, his hand kept going around and around in a circle. He stared at it. “What the hell is that?” he muttered. He didn’t want to think of the spirits talking tohim in this way, but his grandmother had told him that, if they needed to talk, and he wasn’t prepared to listen, they would find different avenues to get to him. He remembered her doing some crazy things with a pencil and paper as well, at various times.