CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO. Jake nodded, the phone cradled to her ear as she threw a pencil at Rick

Jake nodded, the phone cradled to her ear as she threw a pencil at Rick. " I understand it's confidential. We'd still like to come by. It's very important."

" What? " Rick said as he rubbed his cheek where the pencil had hit.

" We can be there within the hour." Jake nodded. " Thanks." She hung up the phone, grinning. " Found our link. All three spent time at the Women's Crisis Center. She's got files on all of them."

" Okay. Good job. Maybe we've got a rogue counselor or something, " Rick said.

" I'm pretty sure the counselors are all women, Rick, " she said, standing and shoving her chair away. " I'll let the lieutenant know."

" Meet you outside."

Jake nodded, walking quickly to the lieutenant's door. It was opened, and she knocked on the frame once before entering.

He looked up, his graying hair shining under the fluorescents. Lieutenant Gregory was barely fifty, long ago divorced and never remarried. He seldom spoke of a private life, and Jake guessed that he had none. Yes, he was by the book, as Rick had said, but he wasn't afraid to give his detectives some slack. Working Special Victims was not an easy assignment, and Jake had seen more horror than she cared to remember. But, never fail, Lieutenant Gregory was right there, backing them up. He was the consummate professional and very seldom bent the rules. It had taken him and Jake awhile to get used to each other. Jake bent the rules as far as they would go.

" McCoy. What you got? "

" Women's Crisis Center. All three of our victims had contact with them."

" And you're checking it out? "

" Yes, sir."

" Simpson? Salazar? "

" They're checking out Sandra Poole's last boyfriend. They got some information from the daughter."

" Okay. Keep me posted. I've got a meeting with Captain Zeller at three o'clock. He'll want an update."

" Yes, sir."

" Jake? "

Jake turned back. " Yeah? "

" You know I hate that 'yes sir' shit."

Jake grinned. " Yes, sir. I know."

She walked quickly through the squad room, barely acknowledging the smiles and nods that were flashed her way. For once, her leg felt strong, and she practically jogged down the hall. Rick was waiting in their drab Ford, revving the engine just a bit as she slammed the door.

" Damn glad you're back, Jake."

" Why's that? The lieutenant wouldn't let you drive? "

" He's a control freak, what can I say? "

Jake nodded. " Yeah, yeah. Jefferson Street."

" I know where it is, " Rick said as he sped away, squealing the tires just a bit.

" I swear, you're like a kid sometimes."

" But you missed me, right? "

" Yeah, I missed you." Jake settled back in the seat, watching her partner's profile. His day-old stubble was dark on his skin, a nice contrast to his blond hair. Handsome. Damn, but he was. And he knew it.

" What? "

" Nothing. Can't I look at you? "

" You're wondering about me and Michelle, aren't you? "

Jake shrugged. " Yeah." Actually, she'd forgotten.

" Well, we still haven't talked, so don't worry about it."

" I'm not worrying about it. As long as you're okay, I'm okay." She shoved both hands against the dash as he slammed on the brakes at a light, barely avoiding a rear-end collision. " And I'm driving on the way back. Jesus! "

He was quiet for a moment, then looked at Jake. " I actually tried to talk to her, you know. But it was like she knew what was coming and changed the subject, so I let it drop."

Jake didn't have any advice for him. She certainly wasn't an expert on relationships, stable or failed.

" Do you want your marriage to last, Rick? "

The light turned green and he drove on, a serious look on his face. Jake wondered what thoughts he was sorting through.

" This sounds awful, Jake, but no. We're like two strangers when we're alone. When other people are around, it's better because we put on this show, you know. But when it's just us, I think, what the hell am I doing here? "

" Then the next time you try to talk to her, don't let it drop. It's not fair to her, Ricky. She may think your marriage is great."

" No. No, she doesn't. I can see it in her eyes when we talk. Neither one of us is the least bit interested in what the other has to say."

" Then do it and get it over with before she ends up pregnant or something."

" That would involve sex, wouldn't it? "

" Oh, Rick. Jesus, you're not even having sex? "

He shrugged. " It's been awhile."

She pointed ahead. " Jefferson's the next block."

" Got it."

" Marriage counselor? "

" What for? That'd mean I'd want it to work out."

" Made up your mind, huh? "

" Yeah. When I'm living with a beautiful woman, and I don't want to make love to her, it's time to get out."

He pulled into the parking lot of the crisis center, looking for a spot to park. " Damn. You think it's always this busy? "

" Over there. A visitor's spot. And I wonder if these are employees or victims? I know they have a shelter, but I doubt it's here." She got out of the car, her leg a little stiff. It was always stiff when she sat for long periods.

" You weren't limping this morning, " Rick noted.

" No. It's much better. It's just from riding. It'll loosen up."

" You think it's going to be permanent? "

" I don't know, Rick. If it is, I'll have a hell of a time passing the physical."

He nodded, then held the door open for her. " I'll let you do the talking. They're probably not real fond of men around here, " he whispered.

Jake smiled and nudged him with her elbow, hearing his quiet chuckle. At the front desk, they both showed their badges. " I'm Detective McCoy. This is Detective Chase. I spoke on the phone earlier with Patrice Kane."

" Yes. She said you'd be stopping by." The young woman stood and motioned for them to follow. " I'll show you to her office."

They followed her down a long corridor, passing a room with twenty cubicles, Jake guessed. " Excuse me."

The woman stopped and turned around. " Yes? "

" The room there. Is that the crisis line? "

" Yes. We have counselors working the phones twenty-four hours a day."

" On average, how many calls do you get a day? "

The woman smiled but shook her head. " Perhaps Ms. Kane should answer your questions."

Jake and Rick looked at each other, then continued on. The office they stopped in front of was small, barely room for the two visitors' chairs. Most of the available space was taken up with file cabinets.

" Ms. Kane? The detectives are here."

A woman, probably Jake's age, looked up and nodded, motioning for them to come in. " Please close the door, Connie."

Jake reached out and shook the woman's hand, noting her firm handshake and the quiet acknowledgment in her eyes. Jake nodded. " I'm Jake McCoy. We spoke earlier."

" Yes."

" This is Detective Chase." The woman's handshake with Rick was much briefer.

" Thanks for taking the time to see us, Ms. Kane. Your parking lot was overflowing. You must be extremely busy, " he said.

" Unfortunately, yes."

Jake sat down and pulled out her pad and pen. " What services do you offer on site? "

" We offer counseling sessions here. Legal advice. Referrals to federal and state agencies for monetary assistance. Of course, the crisis line."

" Is the shelter located here? "

" No. But it's close. Only three blocks down."

" Your counselors? Are they all female or do you have any male counselors? "

" Here, all female. Although we do have a few psychologists who we refer clients to."

" Any of them male? "

" One, yes. There is the rare occasion where an abused woman feels more comfortable talking to a man about it. But it is rare."

" If you have counselors here on staff, why do you refer out? " Rick asked.

Patrice Kane smiled and motioned around her office. " We are a nonprofit organization. The counselors we have here are volunteers, mostly medical students and the occasional practicing therapist who donates their time. Some of our clients need more professional help than we can provide. However, therapy is expensive and most of the women we see here cannot afford it. So, we have arrangements with a few psychologists in the area who will work with us, charging much less than normal. We help pay the fee."

Jake nodded. " Okay. We're just trying to understand how it works here. The three women I asked you about, can you tell me how they came here? Did they call the crisis line or what? "

Patrice leaned forward. " You're very close to that line, Detective."

" They're dead, Ms. Kane. What confidence would you be breaking? "

She picked up three folders on her desks and straightened the papers inside. " I pulled their files, Detective. I don't really remember them. I see hundreds of women come through here."

" I understand."

" Two of them, Helen Thornton and Sandra Poole, called our crisis line. We were not able to convince them to get out of their situations. You'd be surprised at how many women think it's their fault that they are being battered. But after the attacks that sent them both to hospitals, they came for counseling. We referred them both to Dr. Westbrook. That was nearly three years ago."

" Westbrook? Male or female? " Rick asked.

" She's an expert on family violence. We're very lucky that she's willing to accept our clients."

" What about Shelly Burke? " Jake asked.

" There's no record of her calling the crisis line. She was referred to us by a doctor in the emergency room. Her boyfriend decided she was being argumentative when she refused to have sex with him and his son. This was eighteen months ago. Shelly was also referred to Dr. Westbrook."

Jake and Rick looked at each other, eyebrows raised.

" How many women do you refer to this Dr. Westbrook? " Jake asked.

Patrice shrugged. " It's hard to say. We may go months without referring anyone, then in a span of a few weeks, we may send five."

" I'm just assuming here, but you refer women who have been more brutally beaten to her? Since you said she's an expert on family violence."

" Basically, yes. The resources that we have here are sometimes limited. Victims of extreme domestic violence require more than we can offer. Dr. Westbrook has had great success with these women."

Jake nodded. " I don't suppose we could get a copy of their files? "

Patrice laughed. " No, Detective, you can't."

Jake grinned and met the other woman's eyes. " Can't blame a girl for trying." She was rewarded with a slight blush from Patrice Kane. She stood, again offering her hand. Patrice's grip was much softer than before. " We really appreciate you taking the time to see us. You've been a big help."

" My pleasure."

Jake raised an eyebrow teasingly, ashamed at herself for flirting, but she couldn't resist.

" Thank you, Ms. Kane, " Rick said politely. Patrice only nodded, her eyes were still on Jake.

At the door, Jake turned back around. " By the way, this Dr. Westbrook, where could we find her? "

" Her office is downtown. Ask Connie to give you the number."

" Thanks."

" Anytime, Detective."

" Well, I'll try not to be a nuisance, " Jake promised. Rick gave an exaggerated cough as they walked away.

" Good Lord, could you be any more obvious? "

" What are you talking about? "

" You were flirting with her to get information, " Rick accused. " That's disgusting."

" Like I haven't seen you do it."

" She's not even gay, " he whispered.

" Of course she is." Jake stopped at the front desk and smiled. " Hello again, Connie. Ms. Kane said that you would give us the address and phone number for Dr. Westbrook."