He nodded. “Okay, Patsy. What’s going on?”
“I don’t even know where to start so I guess I’ll jump into it.” When he nodded, I explained everything Lincoln and Dr. Reeves had discussed with us today, not leaving anything out. Wes’ eyes grew wider and wider. By the time I finished, he looked alarmed. I squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry I had to get so graphic, luv. I just wanted ya to know why the FBI is huntin’ for this killer so badly.”
Wes nodded slowly. “I understand but why did you tell me all that, Patsy, and what made you come home early to do it?”
I hesitated, hating that I had to ask for his help. I sighed, unable to start. It was Wes’ turn to squeeze my hand. “What’s wrong, Patsy?”
“The FBI thinks that the killer may be hidin’ out in a homeless encampment not far from his huntin’ grounds.”
Wes’ eyes got even wider. “Homeless encampment? Here, in Hollywood?”
I shook my head. “No, actually, it’s in South L.A.”
“So…what does that have to do with me, Patsy? I’m still not making the connection. I never lived in that part of Los Angeles. My parents’ house was in the San Fernando Valley, and my apartment wasn’t far from here in Hollywood. I did spend a few weeks in a tent city here in Hollywood because my car was impounded at one point, but I’ve never lived on the South side.”
“So, yer familiar with homeless encampments?”
He nodded. “Yes, but none in that area. I will tell you, though, they’re not good places to live. A lot of the residents are completely crazy, on drugs, or alcohol. Mental illness runs rampant in them. Why do you ask?”
“Because the FBI would like to know if ya can help us out for a few days.” I felt sick asking, especially when I’d practically volunteered Wes.
He furrowed his brow. “How?”
“They need someone to go in and see if they can identify the killer…well, anyone who the people might be afraid of.” I paused for a few seconds as I thought about how to explain exactly what I meant. “When I say afraid of, what I mean is someone other than what they’re used to…sinister…someone that they wouldn’t normally be afraid of like someone sufferin’ from mental illnessor violent because of drug use. We thought havin’ someone who knows how to walk through that world, might be helpful.”
“And you think I’m the right kind of person for that, Patsy? I don’t have any sort of law enforcement background, so I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be.”
“I think yer underestimatin’ yerself. Ya think fast on yer feet, Wes, and what you’ve gone through in the last year gives ya the inside edge for intel and that’s what we need. What I’m sayin’ is the FBI needs someone who would know how to blend in, understands the way one functions.”
He nodded slowly. “Like I said, I don’t know that encampment, but if you need someone to help catch this killer, I’d be willing to poke around and ask questions. You said you think the people would be afraid of this individual?”
“We do.” I waved a hand between us. “You and I both know if somethin’ isn’t right about someone when we meet ‘em. Whoever’s committin’ these murders is a psychopath. People have a gut instinct for self-preservation. Believe me, when I’ve encountered those types, I always felt it when someone is a wee bit off. Have ya had that happen to ya?”
He nodded vigorously. “Of course it has. It’s just like you said. It’s self-preservation that makes you want to get away from them. The feeling is different than when you see someone with open animosity directed toward you. Those typesaremuch more sinister, and you know it when you see it. It’s more of a feeling.” Wes paused, staring seriously at me. Oddly enough, he didn’t look worried or scared, just relaxed, if I was reading his facial expression correctly. Before he opened his mouth, I knew what he was going to say. “I can help, Patsy.”
I nodded. “If yer willin’ to do this for the FBI, I want ya to know, ya won’t be alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ll be with ya every step of the way.”
“What?” He frowned, confusion obvious.
“I mean, there’s no way I’d let ya blithely go in there and put yerself in danger unless I was by yer side. I already told Candy that.”
“So, we’d be together?” I nodded and for some damned reason he smiled at me. “You don’t think two people asking around about a killer is going to make homeless folks even less likely to talk to us?”
I sat up straighter. “Well, I think we can be more subtle than that, Wes. And in answer to yer question, yeah, we’ll be together. I’m goin’ with ya or it isn’t happenin’ at all, because I’m not takin’ any chances with yer life.”
“So, you’re going to protect me?”
I nodded, noting the completely trusting expression on his face. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m goin’ to do. I’ll tag along with ya like the wee, Irish pain in the arse that I am.”
He shook his head, grinning as he looked at our clasped hands. When he glanced up again, his expression was angelic. “You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met; you know that?”
“I’m not so sure about that, but I can tell ya, that’s the way it’s goin’ to be if ya agree to this.” I leaned forward and brought our lips together. For some damn reason, I couldn’t stop touching him.
He smiled when I broke the kiss. “Of course I’ll help, Patsy. When do they want us to do this?”
