he’d been in it, she’d cried herself to sleep in his arms. Now...
Nina’s horrified cry mingled with Simon’s ugly curse.
The letters BD were spray painted on her walls and on her pale bedspread.
Once again, he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Doc. But if this doesn’t link him to the homeless murders, I’m not sure what will. I’ll get the stuff in your dresser. You grab what you need from your closet. But if anything looks like it’s been messed with, don’t touch it, okay?”
Shakily, Nina nodded and headed for her closet. As she extracted a suitcase and began filling it, Simon walked over to her dresser and examined a few of the items on top of it. Framed photos of her and Rachel. A ballerina music box. A bundle of swim team ribbons. A little teddy bear with a pink bow. Like the rag doll she carried in her purse, was the bear something she’d had as a child? Maybe even something that had belonged to her sister? But he wasn’t about to ask her that now, just as he hadn’t pressed her for details about her sister’s suicide. He already knew Rachel Whitaker had slit her wrists in the bathtub. The last thing Nina needed right now was to remember that.
He turned to her. “Bring casual and business clothes. In case you—” He broke off at the expression on her face. Her jaw had gone slack, her complexion ashen and the pupils of her eyes had dilated until they seemed almost black.
“Nina.” Simon took a step forward, but she shrank back. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Nina took another step back and pointed a shaking finger. “The bear. On my dresser.”
“What is it? Isn’t it yours?”
She swallowed and wrapped an arm around her stomach, then bent at the knees, going into a low crouch. She gave a low moan of pain.
“Oh, Doc. Oh, no.” Immediately, he went to her and gathered her in his arms. With gentle movements, he stroked her hair as she buried her head in the crook of his neck, gasping for air. He murmured her name and held her tight until her breathing regulated.
“That’s how she did it,” she whispered, her voice raw.
“That’s how who did what?” he asked, but somehow he knew the answer.
“That’s how Beth killed herself. She used a pink ribbon from a teddy bear to strangle herself to death. That bear doesn’t belong to me. He brought it with him. Davenport. He left it here for me to find.”
* * *
SIMON WANTED TO RIP Davenport’s heart out through his rib cage, but right now Nina needed him. After she’d come close to collapsing in her bedroom, he’d held her until she stopped sobbing. Then he’d finished packing for her, throwing items from her dresser and closet into the suitcase she’d already pulled out. After that, he’d struggled with indecision. He’d been planning on leaving her in a hotel or at a friend’s house and following up with Davenport.
But at that moment, Nina had needed him more. She’d trusted him with her body. He was taking responsibility for her emotional well-being, too.
He’d bundled Nina and her overnight bag into the car and had taken off for his place.
Nina hadn’t argued. Didn’t even ask questions. That worried him. She wasn’t going to be able to take much more. Not with everything she’d already gone through.
On the way to his house, Simon called DeMarco and asked him to conduct Davenport’s interview, but DeMarco said Davenport had asked for an attorney. There would be no interviewing him until at least tomorrow.
That was good. That meant Simon could give Nina his full attention.
Now, in his guest room, he unpacked her items and put them away as she sat curled up on the bed, her arms wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked utterly defeated. And that scared the shit out of him.
He sat next to her on the bed.
“I know he got into your house, Nina, even with the new security system in place, and I know that has to scare the shit out of you, but don’t let him into your mind. Don’t let him invade that space, too.”
“He already has,” she mumbled. “He’s been there for the past three years, reminding me of what happened. How I failed to stop it.”
“Then get him out. Shove him out of your mind. Put something else in there.”
“Like what?”
“Hell, I don’t