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 onhis 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 toDo it, whatever the hellitwas. 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 witha 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,perfecttopped 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,thisguy 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.”