Simon Says… Believe (Kate Morgan Thrillers #12)

Chapter 1

Last Week of January

Four days later Kate was drowning in paperwork. She heard a noise and looked up to see Rodney come in. His face was still puffy and bruised from the fight in the ring, but he was smiling, cracked lips and all. She got up, walked over, and gave him a gentle hug.

He just held her and whispered, “Thank you.”

She nodded. “So, was that thanks for saving your sorry ass or thanks for saving you from hospital food?”

He laughed. “Both. I don’t know where in hell Simon got that breakfast, but, man, it was something else.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” she agreed.

“Is that how you eat all the time?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “I could really get used to that.”

“If you order from the same places he does, you could have it whenever you want,” she pointed out.

“I don’t know that I could afford even a fraction of it.”

She stopped to consider that, frowning. “I don’t even think about it anymore. I have no idea what any of it costs. He orders it, and I eat it,” she said, with a shrug. “It’s a deal that seems to work for me.”

He burst out laughing. “Of course it does,” he muttered, shaking his head. “It would work for anybody. It’s a damn-good thing you’ve got him to keep you on the straight and narrow. But then again, you also saved his sorry ass.”

“In all fairness,” she pointed out, “it was my turn.”

“How about no more turns?” he grumbled.

“Yeah, I did mention that to him, and he was down for stopping whatever this score-keeping was,” she admitted, with a smile.

“And I understand that things have been calm these past days.”

“Yeah,” she replied, “as calm as it ever is. Couple shootings, couple dead bodies on the streets. We’re waiting for autopsies, but it seems to be drug overdoses. You know, … the usual.”

“Right, … the usual,” he repeated. “And it’s still the season to be jolly—if the middle of January and beyond counts.”

“It does in my book,” she stated agreeably, “if anything jolly is to be had.”

He looked at her and shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe.”

Just then Reese walked in, and the frown on her face said everything.

“Uh-oh,” Kate muttered, frowning back at her. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got”—she hesitated and then relented—“I don’t want to say it’s a church killing or that it’s a religious killing, as the holidays are well and truly over.

… Or maybe we’re gearing up already for Valentine’s Day with this guy.

… I don’t know. What we do have seems to be a holiday season murder. ”

Kate frowned. “We all know that murders are the worst at holiday time. What have you got?”

“I’ve got a man, found in his apartment, no idea what’s going on. He’s dead, cause unknown.”

“So, why is this one any different?”

She looked over at Kate. “Because he’s been wrapped in a red bow, around his … manhood,” she added delicately.

“What?” Kate asked, staring at her.

Reese held out the crime-scene photos. “Yeah, it’ll be another strange one.” She handed out files for each of the team—Kate, Rodney, Lilliana—being reduced in number at this time.

Rodney looked over her shoulder at the photo and whistled. “Good God. What is this about? Did someone not like their Christmas gift or something?”

Lilliana frowned as she opened her file copy.

“He was killed in bed?” Kate walked slowly over to her desk, carrying the new file, staring at that image in her folder. “His lips are already turning blue. Yet the crime scene photos show no drugs, prescription or otherwise. Not even a box of rat poison. This looks pretty deliberate.”

“It does,” Reese agreed.

“Please tell me there are no others.”

“Nope, no others,” Reese noted, “just the one victim, so hopefully it’s an isolated incident.”

Kate looked at the next photo and pointed. “What’s with this note here?”

“The guy lives alone, but a poinsettia was in his bedroom, with a card. On the card was the word Believe.”

“And?” Kate asked, turning to Reese.

“One of the techs declared that it’ll be another one of those woo-woo cases, so he named it the Believe It or Not case.”

“That makes no sense,” Kate muttered.

“No, it probably doesn’t, but all I can tell you is that’s what he put it down as.”

Kate didn’t like it. She frowned. “Generally we identify the cases by the name of the deceased.”

“Yeah, generally we do,” Reese agreed, with a smirk.

Just then Simon texted her. How about spending next weekend on the Running Mate?

She sent back a quick reply. I’m doubting it at this point.

No, none of that. You have to BELIEVE.

She stared at his text, stared down at her case folder, and whispered, “Crap. Maybe that’s what this one will be called after all.” She held up her phone to show the text message that Simon had just sent.

Lilliana looked at it, turned to Reese, then back to Kate, and shook her head. “No. … Hell no. Not another woo-woo case already. We’re still buried in paperwork from the last one.”

“Yeah, you’re not kidding,” Kate confirmed, as she stared at her phone.

Simon called and asked, “Is there a reason why I just used the word believe?”

“You tell me,” she muttered, with a sigh. “I just got a case where the victim is wrapped up in a red bow, near a card in a poinsettia plant with just the word Believe on it.”

“Crap. … I picked up new blankets and cushions for the boat. Plus it’s restocked with supplies and wine. So I thought maybe we could grab next weekend to belatedly set the right tone for the New Year.”

“Let’s just put it this way,” she noted. “If I get free, that would be the real miracle.”

“In that case, I’ll end on the same note I started with. Just believe.”

And, with that, he disconnected.