“I don’t know,” he said. “I think you’re a dark horse.”
She laughed. “Nothing dark about me. I’m just what you see,… an open book.”
“No,” he said forcibly, “that’s the last thing you are.”
She looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“There are depths to you that, even if we worked together for ten years, I highly doubt I’ll ever get to know.”
She was surprised to hear him say that. “That’s an odd thing to say.”
“Not at all,” he said. “The fact of the matter is that most of us don’t quite understand what makes you tick. We’re just glad you joined the team, so you’re on our side.”
*
Curious as towhat Kate and her partner would see, Simon followed the news, while he headed back to his place. He’d rather have spent time with her. She was definitely more intelligent than his usual dates. And he loved her lively curious brain; even her natural crankiness appealed. Although talking hadn’t been the prime activity before. He was a sexual creature and thoroughly enjoyed letting loose.
He understood that Kate didn’t want their relationship to become an issue at her job; he just didn’t see how it would. He didn’t know any of the people she worked with, but, because of their prior association on the pedophile case, and what you might call his unconventional way of offering assistance, there was definitely some hesitation on her part to bring all that back up again. He could respect that. It was also frustrating. He’d love to have a little more of her in his life, but, as long as she kept him at arm’s length, it wouldn’t happen.
She was fiery, yet uncertain, was easily startled, and would bolt at this stage, if he pushed it. And he’d do a lot to avoid making her feel that way.
Rather than going straight home, he headed down in the area with the building he wanted to buy and drove past to see cops still everywhere, including her. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was following her. He had been hoping to take her out for dinner, but that had all gone sideways when she went for a workout, and then he’d seen the fatigue and the weariness on her soul. The job was demanding and had to be stressful. The fact that she was doing so well was amazing, but he saw that it was taking a toll.
That was something he would have to deal with probably all of his life, if he planned on staying close to her. Which he did, at least for the foreseeable future, and wasn’t that something? Kate was the opposite of what he’d historically had for lady friends. Kate also looked to be a lot of work. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but it’s what it was, and, because that was where his interests had landed, he was willing to work with it.
As he finally drove toward home, he heard another report on a jumper. He frowned at that and called someone he knew in law enforcement in West Vancouver. When Ben asked him what his interest was in the jumper, he said that there just seemed to be so many of them right now that he wondered if the city needed something extra to help those people in need.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” his friend said, an age-old weariness in his tone. “I’m not even sure how to tackle something like that, but mental health is a huge issue right now.”
“Right now? I think it’s all the time, isn’t it?”
“Probably,” Ben said. “I mean, when you think about it, if it comes to that, you know—in some people’s minds—there are just no other options.”
“That’s the part that just blows me away,” Simon said quietly. “I mean, how is it that there are no other options?”
“Because these people either don’t have money, don’t have facilities or support, or they’re missing something major that would help them to avoid this last step.”
“Well, surely there are at least online chat groups for support,” Simon said.
“Sure, but unfortunately there are also online chat groups of people supporting the decision to do it as well.”
“Ouch.” Simon winced. “That should be monitored.”
“Yeah, except then we’re infringing on personal rights and privacy.” With that statement, Ben’s wariness and frustration was evident. Simon was sorry he’d reached out to his friend.
“Well, if you think of anything I can do to help,” Simon said, “let me know.”
And, with that, he rang off, as he headed back to his penthouse. He walked upstairs, still thinking about it.
Was there something he could do to help? This was not an area he’d ventured into, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t, if only he found a way. And that was always the problem—trying to figure out just what he was supposed to do, what his role in all of this rightly was. Generally he liked to stay well and truly clear of being in the public eye, but, on some things, he couldn’t. Some things were just too much out of control, hurting so many people, and maybe that’s where he was at right now. He didn’t know, but it was a struggle sometimes.
On instinct, once he got inside and settled, he turned on his computer and sat down, looking at some available suicide resources online. What was immediately apparent was you could join a lot of groups on social media and otherwise. A million therapists advertised their skill sets on the internet as well. Whether they were any good or not left a lot to be interpreted, and by people who were the most vulnerable. He wondered just how anybody was supposed to evaluate these services, especially if they didn’t have the money to try them out. That had to be difficult because did you just go talk to all these people? Not likely. If you were already struggling, the last thing you wanted was strangers digging into your mind and your thought processes, yet who else was there?
He kept searching and reading, and finally found on one of the sites a commemorative list of the names of people who had committed suicide. Frowning, he looked at the names and kept scrolling down the page. It was a group trying to support each other after a loss to suicide. When he got to one name, he stopped and frowned. He quickly made a phone call and said, “Louisa, this is Simon.”
She immediately started bawling. “Hi, Simon,” she said in between hiccups.
“I just saw something on the internet,” he said, hating to even bring it up, since obviously she was traumatized by whatever was going on.