Simon Says_. Walk (Kate Morgan #6)(70)
Author: Dale Mayer

 

Knowing it wouldn’t do any good, he answered right back, via the same damn notepad, feeling like an absolute idiot. Samantha, I’m here. As soon as his pen lifted from the notepad, a voice slammed into his head. Help me. Help me. Help me, help me, help me.

 

He covered both his ears, as he tried to stop the litany of never-ending screams in his head. And finally when they slowed to a din, he collapsed in his chair, shaking, his whole body in shock from what had just happened. He could almost hear his grandmother say, Well, what did you expect? You opened a door, and, as soon as you do that, people always want to come in.

 

Sometimes it was damn irritating to have his grandmother’s voice be this litany in his head, and yet other times it was reassuring, somehow letting him know that what was happening was what was always happening, and it was normal, even if he didn’t like it. He took several slow deep breaths, not sure how to help this Samantha person because he didn’t even know who she was or where she was.

 

He called back out to the room around him. “Tell me where you are, give me something so that I can find you.”

 

Instead the voice screamed—one long, loud, and drawn-out scream. Find me.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

 

 

 

At the end of the day, Kate still couldn’t believe they were no further ahead. They had checked into Samantha’s family, looking for any answers, but basically everybody confirmed that Samantha had left work on foot, going home, and nobody heard from her again. Samantha’s mother swore up and down that no way her daughter would have disappeared like that, without something being wrong, and her mother was grateful that at least somebody was listening to them now, but why the hell hadn’t anybody given a shit before?

 

Kate tried to explain about Samantha being of an age, where she could easily leave on her own, but, of course, her mother wasn’t interested in hearing about it. And Kate, if it were her daughter missing, she wouldn’t have either. But they could do only so much, when they didn’t have anything to go on, other than a woman had disappeared. Outside of Simon, they could still be looking at the fact that this woman could be visiting friends and decided not to tell anybody, or she had taken a walk off a bridge, and her body had yet to surface.

 

The latter possibility still came to Kate’s mind and brought shudders to her soul after of her recent cases, where she’d been dealing with suicides—and yet not suicides—in one of the most twisted cases she’d ever seen. Of course she didn’t have the experience of everybody else here on this journey, but it was definitely at the top of theirs too.

 

Kate went up to the front steps of Simon’s building to see Harry racing toward her to open the door.

 

She held up the takeout bags that she had collected on her way home. “Have you heard from him at all?”

 

Harry laughed. “I heard from Edgar that Simon did have a fancy for a pretzel this morning. So, as soon as I came on shift, I checked up on him, and he said he was fine. That was some hours ago.”

 

She cracked a big grin and nodded. “He does like his food, doesn’t he?”

 

“He does, indeed, and that’s a good sign.”

 

“Can’t argue with you there.” She walked to the private elevator and hit the button for Simon’s penthouse.

 

Harry asked, “You want me to tell him that you’re coming?”

 

She shook her head. “No, it’s a surprise this time.”

 

He nodded, and she wasn’t sure whether he would say something or not. It was hard to let go of a lot of training, even though she was here on a regular basis. For all she knew, the doormen were instructed to tell her that they wouldn’t tell Simon, but that was the first thing they’d do the minute she disappeared from sight. She couldn’t blame them. Whatever happened, happened, and she’d deal with it.

 

As it was, when she arrived, Simon looked up from the kitchen table and smiled.

 

“I guess with this elevator, you get plenty of warning when somebody is coming anyway, don’t you?”

 

He shrugged. “I don’t know about plenty of warning, but having the only penthouse does mean that, if the elevator is coming, it’s coming for me.” He gave her a big smile. “Besides, you’re always welcome.”

 

“Well, I did tell Harry not to alert you that I was on my way, not so much because I wanted to surprise you,” she admitted, “but more because I was afraid you’d be napping.”

 

“Napping,” he repeated. “You make that sound as if I’m a two-year-old.”

 

She lifted an eyebrow. “Did you not have a nap today?”

 

He stared at her and asked, “How did you know?”

 

She shrugged. “I’d texted you a couple times, and I didn’t get a response. When you did respond, it was maybe an hour, an hour and a half later.”

 

He shook his head. “Yes, I did get a nap,” he stated crossly. “And, apparently while I was sleeping”—he picked up his notepad and tossed it in front of her on the table—“I wrote this.”

 

She read it and then slowly nodded. “So, she’s reaching out for you?”

 

He nodded. “She’s reaching out for me, while I was at my most vulnerable, and she made contact.”

 

“And you responded?”

 

“I don’t know that she heard my response,” he said, and then he told her the rest.

 

Shaken, she sat down and looked over at him in concern. “That’s a little on the disturbing side. Are you okay?”

 

“A little disturbing?” he repeated, with an eye roll. “I would have used a much stronger word than that.”

 

She wasn’t sure what to say, but to think of somebody screaming in his head had to be disturbing. “You appear to be fairly adjusted to it,” she noted cautiously, looking at him for any sign that it was upsetting him.

 

“Oh, I was upset at the time,” he muttered. “But …” Then he shrugged. “What am I supposed to do about it?”

 

“I don’t know. … This is your deal, not my deal,” she told him, raising her hands in surrender. “I have no advice to give.”

 

“And yet you are most often the one who tells me exactly what to do.”

 

She frowned. “Hardly,” she muttered. “Unless it’s telling you to take a hike.”