“I’m no rookie, either, Sheriff. I know Kansas City. And I know the Rose Red Rapist and how he works.” She pulled a hand from her pocket and turned to face him once more. What was it about this woman’s gentle touch on his arm that made each skin cell wake and warm beneath her fingers? “I’m also a psychologist. I’ve worked with several officers who’ve had to deal with the loss of a partner or a loved one, or even the death of a suspect. You need time. You need to grieve. You need to help the others in your family who are dealing with this loss, too.” The warmth and subtle connection between them left when she pulled her hand back into the pocket of her coat. “Let us do this difficult work.”
“Dr.Kate….” That’s how he’d heard her introduce herself more than once, and that’s the name that landed on his tongue. “I’m the oldest brother in my family, and our parents are gone. Janie was my responsibility. Finding who did this feels like my responsibility, too.”
She nodded, perhaps understanding his guilt, or perhaps just eager to move him along out of the police department’s way. “Please. Go find a hotel for the night. Did you come here by yourself? Is there someone you should call?”
Dr. Kate could maneuver a conversation six ways to Sunday, and a man had to stay on his toes to keep up—or probe beneath that chilly control she maintained over her thoughts and feelings. He was interested in taking on the challenge, but right now he was too tuckered out emotionally to be a worthy adversary. So he relented and let her chase him off KCPD territory. For now.
“I’m a big boy, ma’am. Been taking care of myself a long time now.” Boone circled around the hood of the truck and opened the door, but paused before climbing inside. “I’m glad Montgomery sent you to handle me. I’d have punched him by now.”
Her chin tipped up as though his bluntness had taken her aback. And then her pink lips curved into a soft smile. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you, Sheriff?”
That glimpse of warmth through a chink in her armor made Boone feel like smiling, too. Yep, there was at least one thing he liked about Kansas City. He climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. Then he pulled a contact card from his wallet and rolled down the passenger-side window to share one last word with Dr. Kate Kilpatrick of KCPD before driving away. “You need me for anything—you find out anything about this murder—I expect a call.”
She stepped forward to take his card and it disappeared into the pocket of her trench coat along with her hand. “I will.”
“See you later, Doc.”
“JUST ONE QUOTE, Kate.” Vanessa Owen had shown up at the precinct offices late in the afternoon, thankfully without her cameraman, and ambushed Kate the moment she stepped off the elevator onto the third floor. “I know we have history—and I know a lot of it was pretty bad—but this isn’t personal.”
“Nice speech.” Kate took note of the visitor and press badges the dark-haired reporter wore around her neck, and quickly chucked the idea of having the doe-eyed beauty tossed out on her generous backside. Kate was in charge of public relations for the task force, after all. But that didn’t mean she had to stand here and give Vanessa an exclusive interview when she’d already made a formal statement to the press earlier in the day. Skirting around the reporter, Kate headed for the temporary refuge of her private office. “If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
When she turned the corner into the hallway leading to her office, a uniformed policeman with a buzz cut of brown hair jumped out of the chair where he’d been waiting and startled her. “Dr.Kilpatrick?”
“Pete.” Kate pressed a hand over her racing heart and retreated half a step from the frantic young man who’d assisted her with controlling the crowd of reporters just that morning. “Do we have an appointment?”
“No. But my girlfriend called me at work and she said—”
“Pete.” Kate stopped him before whatever the latest demand his girlfriend had requested of him turned into a full-blown rant. “I can’t hold your hand through every crisis. Now we’ve talked about ways to improve your communication skills. Try one of those strategies to tell her what you’re feeling. You have to practice them.”
“But she said she’d leave me.”
Vanessa invited herself into the conversation. “Officer, you interrupted us. I suggest you make that appointment.”
“Vanessa.”
“Five minutes of your time, Kate.” Now Vanessa was ignoring the young man altogether. “That’s all I’m asking.”
Keeping the irritation out of her tone, Kate patted the officer’s shoulder, giving him a little encouragement. “Go on home, Pete. Talk to her the way we practiced. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll try to fit you into my schedule tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” He glanced up at Vanessa, then back to Kate. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You don’t deserve five minutes.” As soon as Officer Estes had disappeared around the corner, Kate resumed the walk to her office. “You can’t talk to my clients that way.”
“You were dismissing him already.” Vanessa quickly caught up with her, refusing to be ignored. “Look, we are both professional women doing our jobs. Let me help you. Let me help the department’s reputation—”
At that, Kate stopped and faced her. “There’s nothing wrong with KCPD’s reputation.”
Vanessa arched a skeptical eyebrow. “You’ve been investigating the Rose Red Rapist for months—even longer, if the department’s claim is true that he’s the same man who committed a series of unsolved attacks and then disappeared for a few years.” Vanessa pulled a phone from her purse and prepared to text whatever Kate might say. “Give me something to help calm the fears of the women in this city. I’m happy to give them your spiel about smarter ways to protect themselves. But my viewers want information about the crimes that have already happened, not just a public service announcement. They want to know KCPD is making progress. That there’s hope the crimes will stop and that this deviant will be put away for the rest of his life.”
“I hope you’re not preaching gloom and doom to your viewers.” Kate hiked her own purse straps higher onto her shoulder and unfastened the top button of her chocolate-brown coat, resigning herself to having this conversation. “Perhaps if you put a more positive spin on things, the department would be less cautious about sharing their information with you.”
“I don’t preach. I tell the facts. But I need some facts to talk about.”
Kate glanced over at the late-afternoon bustle of activity in and around the detectives’ cubicles. The door to the boardroom where the task force was gathering had already closed. There was no way she could indulge herself and pass off this inevitable chat with Vanessa Owen to someone else. She unfastened two more buttons on her trench coat, buying a few seconds to consider what she could say that wouldn’t compromise the investigation, yet would get her onetime friend out of her hair. “You want facts? We’re working on the serial rapist case, around the clock, utilizing experts from every department.”
“Blah, blah, blah. That’s rhetoric from the commissioner’s office and Chief Taylor, and you know it. I want the scoop from the task force, from the detectives who are on the front line of this investigation.”
Kate turned her head to the side and inhaled a deep breath to chill her temper. This woman had a lot of nerve. But she didn’t get to ruffle Kate’s composure. Not anymore. “Have you ever not gotten what you wanted, Vanessa?”
She could sense the let’s-keep-our-personal-lives-out-of-it argument forming on the other woman’s expression again. Kate didn’t want to hear it.
“Fine. Just know that whatever I share with you I’ll have to tell Gabriel Knight and the rest of the press following the investigation.