CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. The matchbook was sent to the lab for prints. Jake handed Belcher a piece of paper

" The matchbook was sent to the lab for prints." Jake handed Belcher a piece of paper. " That's the name of the club. It's in Edgewood."

" You know, you could have called me last night. I'd have driven out."

Jake shrugged. " What was the point? We were already out there."

Belcher nodded, and they both looked up as Rick walked in looking like he hadn't slept at all.

" Hey guys. Coffee? "

" It's made, " Jake said. He only grunted.

" Well, guess I'll go visit the crime lab, see what turned up. Thanks, Jake."

" No problem. See you later."

Rick walked over, blowing into his coffee cup. " It's cold out. Wouldn't be surprised if it snowed later."

Jake stared at him. " You look like hell."

" Couldn't go back to sleep. My tossing and turning apparently woke Michele, which caused a fight."

" You talk? "

" Yeah. When I left, she was packing a bag and going to her mother's."

" Oh, no. Her mother hates you."

" Yeah. Can't wait for that phone call."

" So, you want to talk about it? "

Rick shook his head. " No. I just want to forget about it." He sat down. " Belcher okay with this case? "

" Yeah. He's so okay with it, he's not even asking Moreno to come in today."

Rick smiled. " You wouldn't do that for me, though."

" Hell, no. If I've got to be here on a Saturday, so do you."

Rick sipped from his coffee, then motioned to her desk. " I see you've got Dr. Westbrook's files out. What are you looking for? "

" Don't really know. Most of this is just notes from their sessions. The doc's take on things. Sandra Poole seemed to be the least receptive to therapy. At least at the beginning." Jake flipped through the pages. " But at the end, Dr. Westbrook lists her as 'extremely positive attitude'." Jake sat back. " I don't think we're going to find anything here. There is no link other than the crisis center and Dr. Westbrook."

" So we can assume someone is killing women who have been referred from the crisis center to Dr. Westbrook."

" But who could get their hands on that information? And why? "

" Someone at the crisis center? Surely they have records. What about Dr. Westbrook's secretary? She would have access."

Jake shook her head. " Did you see her face when she was printing out these files? She was very protective of the information. My guess is that was the first time Dr. Westbrook authorized the release of anything."

" So let's go talk to Patrice Kane again." Rick stood up. " You think she's there on a Saturday? "

" I'd bet she probably lives there. She seemed very dedicated."

The traffic was light, and Jake drove them through the city quickly. Again, the parking lot at the Women's Crisis Center was overflowing. Even the visitors' spots were full.

" Must have been a busy night."

Jake parked on the street nearly a block away, and they walked back side-by-side, Rick occasionally bumping Jake's shoulder.

" Such a kid, " she murmured.

" How's the leg today? "

" It's fine. Will you quit worrying about it? "

" You're limping again."

" I told you, it's from sitting in the goddamn car. That, and the cold doesn't exactly help."

Rick stopped. " Are you PMSing? I've gotten off track with you being gone and all."

Jake rolled her eyes. " Trust me, you don't only irritate me when I'm PMSing." She walked on. " And I don't PMS."

" The hell you don't."

The small lobby was crowded. Jake looked around and noticed young mothers with crying children, older women with red, puffy eyes. Yes, must have been a busy night. Connie was again at the reception desk.

" Good morning, Connie."

" Detectives. Back so soon? "

" We wanted to bother Ms. Kane again. If she's got a second."

" She's with someone right now, Detective. If you care to wait, " she said, motioning to the lobby, " I'll let her know you're here."

Jake smiled and nodded. " Thanks very much."

There was only one seat available and Rick gallantly offered it to her, but she shook her head.

" I'll stand here with you, thanks."

" Good. Because it kinda makes me nervous with all these women, you know, " he whispered.

" I'll protect you, don't worry."

" What do you think happened, anyway? "

" What do you mean? "

" Look at her, " he said, with a quick toss of his head. " Black eye, busted lip."

" Well what the fuck do you think happened? "

" But, why didn't she call the cops? "

" Because he beats her and threatens her and she's afraid to call the cops, why do you think? " she said, her voice rising.

" Don't yell."

" I'm not yelling. But Jesus, I can't understand how some women allow this to happen, " she said quietly. " I'd beat the shit out of anybody that did that to me."

" Yeah, well, you could beat the shit out of someone. Look at her. She's tiny. Her husband's probably a six-foot-tall asshole with a beer gut."

Jake's reply was cut short by Patrice Kane's voice.

" Detective McCoy? "

" I guess she doesn't see me here, " Rick muttered.

Jake poked him in the ribs and walked forward, nodding politely at Patrice. " Ms. Kane, sorry to bother you again. But we just have a couple of things."

" Of course. Anyway I can help." She turned back down the hallway. " Come back to my office."

The office was just as cluttered as the first time they were there, and Jake moved files off of one of the visitors' chairs before sitting down.

" Sorry about that, but it's been crazy today."

" Are the weekends usually like this? "

" Yes. More so around a full moon."

" Do you work seven days a week? "

Patrice smiled. " I could ask you the same thing, detective? "

" Yeah. Kinda work when you're needed, I guess."

" Exactly." She leaned back. " Now, what can I do for you? "

" Well, we visited with Dr. Westbrook. She was kind enough to talk with us about the three murders we're investigating." Jake met her eyes. " We've concluded that the only connection between them is your crisis center and Dr. Westbrook. What we'd like is a list of people you've referred to Dr. Westbrook in the last three years."

Patrice shook her head. " That's impossible."

Jake sighed. " We don't want information on them, you'd be breaching no confidences. We'd just like a list of names."

" I'm sorry, Detective."

" They might be in danger, " Jake said, her voice rising.

" It's not that I wouldn't like to help you. I would. But look around. We're not exactly automated."

" What are you saying? You don't have a list of referrals? "

" No. If we refer someone and they are accepted, it's noted in their file... their paper file... and put up. There's not a computer record."

" You've got to be kidding? "

" I wish I were. But our budget is extremely limited. Not to mention staffing. There hasn't been time to put everything in a database. Don't think we've not talked about it. It comes up every year. And every year, the money is best used elsewhere."

Jake leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her head. " Okay. So what are the chances that Dr. Westbrook keeps a running list of your referrals? "

" Probably much better than ours. Her secretary, Catherine, is very efficient. However, Nicole Westbrook is a stickler for doctor-patient privilege. I'm surprised she even spoke with you about her patients."

Jake smiled. " Well, it took a little prodding."

Patrice nodded and winked at Jake. " I'm sure it did."

Jake grinned, then followed a hunch. " Are you and Dr. Westbrook... friends as well as colleagues? "

Patrice glanced quickly at Rick then back to Jake. " I've been around her socially, yes."

" Good. So what do you think the chances are of her giving up her files? "

Patrice laughed. " Cold day in hell. Like I said, she's a stickler."

" Well, I'd like to think that if it meant stopping any more murders, she'd be inclined to help."

" Good luck, McCoy. You'll have your work cut out for you."

Jake stood and Rick did the same. " Okay, then. Sorry to have taken up more of your time. Judging by the lobby out there, you're going to have a long day."

" Yes. Saturdays are usually busy."

Rick left with only a nod, but Jake turned around and smiled. " Thanks, Patrice. I appreciate you seeing us."

" Of course. Come by or call if you need something."

" Thank you."

Jake found Rick waiting in the hallway. He rolled his eyes as soon as she walked out.

" Please tell me you're not going to ask her out? "

Jake shrugged. " Why? "

" I don't like her for you."

" Ricky, you don't like anyone for me."

" No, she's too... manly."

" Manly? She's not manly. You didn't even think she was gay." Jake nodded to Connie. " Thanks."

" Sure, Detective McCoy."

Rick shook his head. " Like putty in your hands."

" Shut up."

" Now we get to see if you can mold Dr. Westbrook."

Jake arched an eyebrow, but kept her comment to herself. For the time being, she still did not want Rick to know that she and Nicole were familiar with each other. For some reason, she didn't think Nicole would appreciate that.

" Let's hook up with her on Monday. Right now, I'd like to enjoy what's left of our Saturday, " she said, as they walked back to her Land Cruiser.

" The sun is shining, and you don't care how cold it is. You're going to sneak out of town, aren't you? "

Jake nodded. " Promised Cheyenne we'd do some hiking."

" It's cold as hell, Jake."

" It's not cold. You're a wimp."

" Yeah, city boy. But don't overdo it Jake. Your leg still bums you, you know."

Jake cocked her head. " You want to come with me? Or maybe that burger you talked about? "

He shook his head. " Might as well face the music. I'm sure her mother has called all the sisters by now. They are either waiting at the house for a lynching or have taken her into protective custody."

" I'll have my cell. Call me if you need me."

" I know I can count on you to come to the rescue, Jake. Thanks."

They both got in and slammed the doors, Jake reaching over to squeeze Rick's arm affectionately before driving away.