know. Distract yourself with something.”
They stared at each other, remembering what they’d done earlier that day to distract her.
“Is that an invitation?” she asked.
When she placed a hand on his chest and flattened her palm over his pectoral muscle, the rest of the world faded away. Rational thought left the building. He saw only her. Smelled only her. Felt only her.
But he still managed to keep hold of some small measure of sense. He’d worried earlier that day that making love to her would be taking advantage of her. She’d convinced him that wouldn’t be the case. That she known full well what she’d wanted, and what she’d wanted was Simon. She might want him now, but this was different. She’d suffered one shock too many for him to even think about having sex with her.
“No, baby,” he said even as he clasped her hand in his. “We can’t. You’re too upset. That’s not what you need.”
She tried to withdraw her hand, but Simon held on.
“Oh, yeah?” she challenged. “What do I need then?”
“You need me to hold you,” he said firmly. “All night. You need me to tell you that everything’s going to be okay. That you’re going to be okay. And that I’m going to be here to make sure of it.”
She stared at him, lips trembling, blinking to fight back tears. Eventually, she took a deep breath. Swallowed hard. Then nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “That’s what I need.”
So that’s exactly what Simon gave her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE NEXT DAY, SIMON interviewed Davenport at the SFPD while his attorney watched on. When Simon first walked into the small interrogation room, he did so with trepidation. He was afraid his personal feelings for Nina would prevent him from keeping his cool. That he’d want to hurt Davenport the same way the other man had hurt Nina. Not just in the recent past, but every year that he’d sent Nina a card, shattering her attempts to move on and live a happy life by reminding her again and again of his daughter’s death, and the fact Davenport held her responsible for it.
Instead, as he sat across from the man, noting how pale and subdued and pathetically small he looked, Simon’s anger was somehow transformed into the same professional calm that always served him well during interrogations. He began the interview by asking preliminary questions about Davenport’s date of birth, place of residence and employer. Sure, Davenport was calm and cooperative now, but he had no doubt that would change once Simon started asking him the tough questions. As such, he was glad Nina wouldn’t be around to hear whatever ugly accusations soon came out of Davenport’s mouth.
Though she’d insisted on coming with him to the station, and had already identified Davenport’s mug shot, confirming he was indeed the man whose daughter had died in her care and who had been sending her threatening cards, she hadn’t even argued with Simon when he’d asked her to wait in the lobby during the interview. In a way, the ease with which she’d given in bothered him. It indicated more than anything else that she was still a little shell-shocked and not quite ready to deal with the full realities of the situation.
Still, he’d promised to keep her updated on their progress and he was going to keep that promise. Right now, however, he needed to get as much information out of Davenport as he could. Between Nina’s testimony, and the fact Simon had caught him red-handed in Nina’s house, had had to chase him down and had had to disarm him, convictions for making unlawful threats, burglary and resisting arrest were pretty much in the bag. However, the same couldn’t be said for pinning him with the murders of Cann and John Hastings, the man and the second murder victim whose identity they’d discovered early that morning.
His preliminary questions over, Simon continued to stare at Davenport until the man squirmed. Then he stood, deliberately using his height to make the man look up at him. “Mr. Davenport, you’ve said you live and work in Charleston, South Carolina. Let’s talk about when you arrived in California and why you’re here.”
Davenport looked at his attorney, who nodded, indicating he should go ahead and answer. “I drove here over the course of several days. I arrived yesterday morning.”
“Did anyone accompany you on the trip?”
“No.”
Of course not. So unless Davenport had some proof, such as gasoline records, it was only his word that he hadn’t been in