Shades of Passion Read Online Free Page B

tried management. You didn’t like it.”
    “Maybe I didn’t give it enough of a chance.”
    “I remember Lana telling you that. What? Now that she’s dead, you feel guilty enough to do what she’d have wanted you to?”
    Simon smiled tightly. “Nice try, Mac, but I don’t feel guilty for her death. She put herself in a killer’s sights, and then she walked right up to him. She was careless despite the warnings I gave her. I’m not blaming myself, and that’s exactly what a shrink will tell you.”
    Mac nodded. “Then you have nothing to worry about. If you want a shot at another management position, you need to prove you’re stable enough for it. That’s going to mean another psych evaluation eventually anyway. Might as well get it done now.”
    Simon blew out a disgusted breath. “Might as well. It’ll probably take a while to get scheduled—”
    “I made an appointment for next week. See this for what it is, Simon. Stevens and I are doing you a favor.”
    “Yeah,” Simon grunted. “Thanks heaps. So what do I do in the meantime?”
    “You’ll continue working the homeless murder case with DeMarco. Close it, see the shrink and you’ll get considered for management. Hell, I’ll even recommend your promotion myself. I’ll do everything I can to make it happen for you, Simon. But you have to work with me.”
    Simon knew he didn’t have a choice. If he wanted a shot at a promotion, hell, if he wanted to continue working—and he needed to continue working—he had to appease Mac and Stevens. Volunteering to attend some damn fundraiser wasn’t going to be enough. Even solving Cann’s murder might not be.
    He didn’t blame himself for Lana’s death, but he sure as shit didn’t want spare time on his hands.
    Whether he blamed himself or not, spare time meant time to think about Lana. Time to think about how she’d cried and pleaded with her killer before she’d died. And time to wonder if some part of her had blamed Simon for failing to save her.

CHAPTER TWO
    U NBELIEVABLE, D R. N INA W HITAKER thought as her boss, and she’d like to think her friend, continued to pace in front of her. She just won’t give up. Karen was determined to pull Nina away from her geriatric dementia patients in order to deal with politics and policing issues. Never mind that those things had once been Nina’s passion. They were in her past for a reason.
    Almost three years ago, she’d sold her carriage house in Charleston, South Carolina, and moved across the country. Her goal had been to heal and start over, but in running from her past, she’d also been forced to leave behind one of her greatest accomplishments—convincing the Charleston law enforcement community to embrace greater mental health training and oversee the formation of a Mental Health Intervention Team. At one time in her life, Nina would have run with that success and continued to advocate the same kind of change in every city across the nation.
    The death of her patient Beth Davenport had changed all that.
    After Beth died, Nina had decided to leave crisis work, policy reform and decisions of life and death to others, and instead focus on a quieter though still worthwhile existence. Now, Karen wanted Nina’s help convincing SFPD to adopt the same MHIT training model that Charleston had implemented. Unfortunately, she was no longer content with Nina acting as a source of information on the topic. She wanted Nina to rally for funds. To talk to the police. To act as the program’s spokesperson.
    She couldn’t do it, Nina thought.
    She wouldn’t.
    Stay strong. Don’t give in.
    But despite her inner pep talk, Nina could feel herself being swayed by Karen’s words.
    “Another homeless man’s been hospitalized after resisting arrest. That’s two this week. Both those men were mentally ill, and both times they didn’t understand they were being arrested. It wasn’t that they were resisting arrest—it’s that they didn’t understand reality.