Simon Says... Swim, page 16
She shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know.” She stared at him. “I don’t keep count. Do you?”
He turned her so that she faced him, his hands on either side of her cheeks. “Doesn’t it bother you?”
She shook her head, her cheek coming up against his hand, as he wouldn’t let go. “No, it doesn’t bother me, and it shouldn’t bother you. Do you want me to keep track of the number of times you reach out and help me? Is that what you want to do? We can have a tally on either side of the page and keep track of who finds the other in the worst scenarios. That sounds like a rough way to have a relationship.”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” he said too quickly.
“I know you didn’t,” she replied gently, “but no. … I’m not keeping track of how many times I’m here to rescue you. And, if you don’t keep track of how many times you have to rescue me, I’ll take it as a favor.”
He stared at her, and then he started to grin. “And, for you, it really is that simple, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s that simple,” she declared. “That’s what life is all about. It’s not about keeping track of who owes whom, and I don’t ever want to owe you. Can you help me with cases sometimes? Sure, occasionally I would gladly take a hand, even though I have trouble asking. I don’t have trouble accepting the information, but I do have trouble figuring out how it can be useful,” she admitted, looking at him intently. “Often it’s cryptic and definitely not clear. It’s not like we can say, Hey, Dr. Don Burnett drowned Axel Peterson, and he did it in a way that makes perfect sense. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could give me something that useful?”
“What about when you come in and find me completely spaced out in some sort of weird trance or waking up in the middle of the night, where I’m sitting there pounding nails into people’s hands?”
She knew what he was talking about, as she had told him about that, recalling a recent case where Simon had helped her catch the pair of killers.
She shook her head. “I think you traumatize yourself way more than you could ever traumatize me. I mean, yes, in the beginning, I wondered what the hell I got myself into. I’m sure there were times when I looked at you and said, That’s not possible. Are there times when you say things and, I’m like, no fucking way? Absolutely, but that’s about the psychic part, not the other part. I deal with death every day at work. But the woo-woo part? I’m working on it. I am learning, and I think the bottom line is acceptance. I take every little bit one day at a time. I came in, found you in a weird state on the couch. Big deal,” she snapped. “I am not planning on seeing you as a victim. Hell, I can’t ever imagine such a thing.” She wasn’t able to comprehend for herself, much less put into words what all this meant for her and how to relay it to Simon, not without offending him. “So, if you want sympathy or pity or anything else along those lines, you’re out of luck.”
“God, no,” he said, glaring at her.
She chuckled. “Good thing, because that’s in really short supply.” She leaned over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. “I don’t know how long until dinner is here, but it’s been a very long time since I had any sleep. So, if there’s time, I wouldn’t mind maybe having a ten-minute power nap.”
And she walked over, threw herself onto the couch, mumbling, “Wake me up when dinner comes.”
And, with that, she literally closed her eyes and crashed.
*
Simon picked up a blanket and gently covered up Kate, while she took a quick nap before dinner, wondering at her ability to essentially just power off, as if she had a switch that clicked off and on. He loved it, absolutely loved it. If ever somebody needed a chance to recharge, it was Kate. No doubt that she gave it her all each day, and they hadn’t even talked about what kind of day she’d had.
He was still dealing with that weird sensation in the back of his throat. The feeling of drowning was one of the most horrific he’d ever dealt with. When stabbed, and God help him for saying that, the pain was sharp, was sudden, and was almost always fatal. But this drowning thing? It was a slow death, constantly gasping for air, then coming up and thinking that maybe he would be okay, only to find himself going under and fighting to the surface again and again and again.
He didn’t know what this particular vision meant. He didn’t know if it pertained to multiple victims. He didn’t know if it was just somebody trying to keep him under. He felt a stick, some object reaching out for him, him trying to grasp it but not able to. It was such a weird thing. When his phone buzzed not very long afterward, Harry called from downstairs, telling him dinner was here. Simon asked the delivery guy to bring it on up, meeting him at the elevator with the money, if he had the bill with him. As soon as the delivery guy came upstairs, Simon recognized him as Mama’s husband. “Henri, are you okay?”
The older man nodded and smiled. “When I knew it was you, I wanted to bring over the food and to thank your girlfriend for looking into the case for us.”
Simon frowned at Henri. “Did she?”
“She’s been out there actively questioning everybody. We didn’t ask her to do anything special because we wouldn’t ask for favors, because we’re already struggling with our loss,” he explained, as he handed over the large bag. He chuckled as Simon raised his eyebrows at the amount of food. “Mama’s pretty sure you’re starving and not looking after yourself, and she knows Kate never does.”
“As it is, Kate is sound asleep on the couch,” Simon whispered, “but I do appreciate this.” He quickly checked the bill and handed over the money.
“You should just set up an account,” Henri suggested. “Then you could pay once a month.”
Simon laughed. “That would probably shock me to see how much pasta I eat on a monthly basis.”
Henri rubbed his tummy, then laughed. “Not as much as I do.” And, with that, he was gone.
Simon carried the bags into the kitchen, and, as he put them down, he heard Kate in the living room.
“Was that Henri?” Kate asked, poking her tired face over the back of the couch. “He didn’t deliver dinner, did he?”
“He did,” Simon confirmed, “and it’s ready. So get up, sleepyhead. Come and eat.”
She slowly rose from the couch, stretched her long, lean length, and then stumbled toward Simon.
He looked at her in concern. “You really are tired, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be fine after I get some food,” she stated. “I don’t remember whether I ate today or not.” He stopped in the act of pulling out containers, then turned and frowned at her. She shrugged. “I think I found a granola bar in my desk, but I don’t really remember. The days run together. Then, once I get into the research,” she explained, “I forget everything else.”
“Jeez,” Simon muttered, as he walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a couple plates and then grabbed some cutlery and brought it over to dish out the food.
“We don’t have to use a plate, you know?” Kate noted.
“I prefer a plate,” he said in a dry tone, “rather than eating from a takeout container.”
She just shrugged and accepted the plate. When she opened the container, she said, “I’m not even sure what this is.”
“It’s manicotti, I think.” Huge shells stuffed with something, and it smelled divine. Also a big container of salad.
So, with several of these big stuffed shells and a massive salad on her plate, she dug into her meal.
He let her get several bites in ahead of his question and then murmured, “So, what took you out of bed so early this morning?”
She looked up at him briefly, cut a bite, and swallowed it. “Another drowning.” He froze, as he picked up his own bite. She nodded. “Unfortunately with way-too-similar circumstances too.”
“How did they know to call you over something like that?”
“In this case, the paramedic knew Rodney and plays hockey with him. I don’t know whether the EMT had been at another of these recent drownings or if he had talked some about this issue with Rodney. Somehow, having heard the witness’s explanation of the older Good Samaritan, … his EMT buddy called Rodney and gave him a heads-up on this one.” She stared thoughtfully off in the distance. “I need to ask Rodney about that, but the EMT called Rodney, and Rodney went down to the scene and called me.”
“And was it worthwhile?”
“Our witness identified Dr. Burnett,” she stated. Simon put down his fork and stared at her, as she nodded. “Right? What the hell do I do with that?”
“Yet, the witness confirmed that the doc was trying to save this person?” Simon asked.
“Yes,” she replied, “I can hardly arrest somebody for failing to rescue a drowning victim. Crap, I would have to arrest all kinds of people for something like that, particularly when Dr. Burnett does not swim,” she murmured.
“Crap.” Simon shook his head. “That’s absolutely bizarre.”
“I know. What I don’t know was if anybody else was there.”
“Meaning? Another drowning person or a partner working with Dr. Burnett or a second witness?”
“Any or all. I don’t know. I just do not know,” she replied, with a headshake. “None of it makes any sense.”
“And yet you seem to have these cases that don’t make sense,” he shared, a pointed reference to her other cases solved this year. “Then eventually all the pieces fall into place, and it makes perfect sense.”
“Eventually, yes,” she acknowledged, with a quick nod. “The problem is, … that’s an eventuality, not something that I get to work with right now. So this doctor was there at the scene of way-too-many recent drownings. He doesn’t manage to save any of them, but that doesn’t mean he’s actively trying to kill them either—like the lightning person.” She waved her fork in the air, as she tried to remember the name of that person.
“You mean, the person who got hit by lightning seven times?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “Rodney mentioned the same thing, how some people attract the same thing over and over. Someone may escape a horrific forest fire one year, but then they’re in some torrential flooding two years later, and, after the passage of more time, they’re caught up in some horrid hurricane. There are individuals who go from disaster to disaster to disaster. So it’s not out of the realm of possibility that this doctor is going from drowning to drowning to drowning, particularly if he’s always out looking for those events, especially when walking the beaches.”
“What was he doing out there at that hour anyway?”
“That,” she noted, “is a question I haven’t been able to ask him. He didn’t show up at work today. He called in sick, and, when I went to his house, he didn’t answer the door,” she shared. “He’s not answering his phone either.”
“I saw him at the coffee shop again. He admitted almost drowning as a kid. Not sure that’s relevant. So what do you think he’s doing right now?”
“I don’t know. If he were a religious person, he might be in church,” she suggested. “I would certainly not be answering my phone, particularly if I knew that the detective was leaving messages.”
He looked at her, then slowly nodded his head. “At the very least he doesn’t want to get involved.”
“He keeps leaving the scene, so we know he doesn’t want to get involved. Now, whether it’s okay that he keeps leaving is a whole different story, since leaving the scene of a crime …”
Simon half laughed. “But was it the scene of a crime?”
“That’s the problem. Drownings are generally accidental, and that’s just a fact of life. Water is water.”
“Speaking of water,” Simon asked, “any chance you’re off for the weekend?”
“I am,” she said, looking over at him. “At least tomorrow, providing we don’t get any more craziness.”
“I thought maybe we could take the Running Mate out tomorrow.”
She looked at him with delight. “You do know how to run her, right?”
“Yes, I do,” he stated, “and, if I run into trouble or we need a hand, Baxter will be around, at least for the next little while, until they start traveling.”
“That sounds good. As long as nothing else blows up, this would be a great idea,” she replied, smiling broadly. “We should pack a picnic and take it out on the water.”
He nodded. “Or we could get the deli to pack up a picnic.”
“I don’t care who packs it up,” she said impatiently, yet excited. “What time do you want to go?”
“I thought we could maybe get some decent sleep tonight, then head out in the morning around eightish or so?”
“Eight is fine. Maybe phone the deli tonight and have it ready to pick up.”
He nodded, grabbed his phone, and dialed the deli that they both loved to use. When the owner answered the phone, Simon quickly identified himself and asked for a picnic basket for tomorrow to take out on the boat.
With the arrangement made to pick it up just after eight tomorrow morning, which was when they opened, Simon disconnected. “That was a really good idea. I’m really looking forward to this.”
“I kind of am too,” she admitted, giving him a bright smile. “If nothing else, I’m really looking forward to having a day off.”
“But will you enjoy a day off?” he asked, with a knowing smile.
“If I asked to travel around some of the beaches, you wouldn’t mind, would you?”
He laughed. “I thought we would stay around the harbor anyway and see what we might see.”
She looked at him and narrowed her gaze. “You were half expecting me to ask that, weren’t you?”
“Let’s just say, I know my Kate very well,” he shared, with a big smile.
She rolled her eyes. “Do you?”
“If you hadn’t asked to go to the beaches where these drownings were happening, I would have been surprised—even though you know perfectly well the chances of the good doctor being out there are slim, especially with you wanting to speak to him so badly.”
She nodded. “Beyond slim. It’s stupidly slim.”
“Right. Does he have any favorite haunts? Does he have any places he likes to go?”
“I don’t know. Wouldn’t it be nice if I could talk to him and find out?”
He nodded. “You could always try him again.”
She reached for her phone, even as Simon put another big stuffed shell on her plate. When her call went to voice mail, she left yet another message. She sighed, as she put down her phone. “He really doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“Is he forced to?”
“No. His actions are considered those of a Good Samaritan.” She shrugged. “And, in that sense, he doesn’t have to talk to me. It would be nice if he did, but it’s not mandatory. So unfortunately he has the liberty to decline any such request.”
Chapter 14
At eight o’clock Saturday morning, Kate and Simon headed to the deli, picked up the picnic basket, and grabbed several bottles of water, some juices, and a little bit of fruit to go with it all, then popped into the café next door, got a big thermos of coffee, and an assortment of several muffins and croissants. With everything loaded in the car, they headed to the harbor.
Once they parked and carted everything they needed to the boat, she suggested, “We need to get organized and get some large carry bags for our stuff.”
Nodding, he turned his attention to orient himself to the workings of the boat.
Once out of the marina, she stepped up beside him, as he sat in front at the wheel. She sighed happily, as she crashed beside him with a cup of coffee in her hand. He turned and grinned at her happily. “It’s been on my mind for a while,” he murmured. “I was thinking of a catamaran, and I really loved that idea, and that still might be something that I get to at some point. However, right now, this gets me where I want to be, and I can just relax and float as need be.” He asked her, “Did you happen to put away the perishable food downstairs?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe a fridge is down there and everything,” she murmured.
“It’s a high-end little unit,” he murmured. “I’ve been out several times with Baxter, and the Running Mate always struck me as the perfect size.”
She smiled, as she looked around and asked, “She sleeps what, eight?”
He laughed. “Okay, so it’s a little bigger than I may require.”
“Yeah, ya think? But, even with it sleeping eight, it’s got a beautiful bedroom. We could do weekends out here,” she murmured, as she stared around. “That’s a pretty incredible thought.”
“It is,” he agreed, “and I agree. Today was intended to be a day trip,” he began, looking at her questioningly, “but we could certainly stay out overnight if we wanted to.”
“We didn’t bring clothes or anything though,” she murmured. “So, we’re probably better off to just stick with the day trip idea and then plan for an overnighter next time, since more groceries will be needed.”
“Of course. More groceries will definitely be needed.” He chuckled. “But you’re right in that we don’t have everything we need. Besides, we could find ourselves completely worn out from all this fresh air by the time we’ve been out a few hours.”
She laughed. “I suppose you bought fishing stuff too.”
“I didn’t,” he said, with a shrug. “Do you like to fish?”
“I’ve never fished before,” she admitted, looking over at the dark water all around them. “I haven’t the first idea how.”
Right now, the marina was getting smaller and smaller in the distance. They were heading out in the direction of the big tankers that always dotted the inner harbor. “You don’t realize how big those things are, until you come up close to them,” she murmured, as she stared at them up ahead.
“They are incredibly huge,” he agreed, as they came up alongside one.
They moved past, out to the wide-open water. “I don’t even know how far we can go in this thing,” she noted, wondering out loud.
“A long way,” he replied. “She’s seaworthy. If you want, we can go over to the island sometime. Really, as soon as we have time off, or we both arrange to take time off, we can do whatever you want.”
