“How long before the baby is born?” she asked.
“I take it this is your first child?”
She nodded.
“It could be a couple of weeks or a few days.”
“What was the pain?” she asked.
He glanced around the room, at the overturned tables and broken glass, at Simon standing by the window, his back to them. “The person who telephoned me said there had been an altercation. I assume the person who did this—” He nodded to indicate the mess “—is gone now?”
“Yes,” she said. Daniel was gone, though she wondered if Simon was right, and he would return.
“The pain was probably a stress reaction. A particularly sharp kick, a tension in the muscles.” The doctor shrugged. “What matters now is that you don’t worry about it, and try to get some rest.” He patted her hand. “You are young and strong and everything looks as it should be. When is your due date?”
“I’m not sure,” she said.
He raised one eyebrow, but didn’t comment, merely stood there. Simon turned toward them. “How is she?” he asked, though Andi was certain he had been eavesdropping on their conversation.
“She is fine,” the doctor said. “All she needs is rest and no stress.”
“Would you mind waiting with her here for a few minutes?” Simon asked.
“For a few moments,” the doctor agreed.
Simon left the room. The doctor looked down at Andi once more. “This cop—he is a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly,” she said. She was sure the doctor was curious, but she refused to elaborate—not that she could have found words to explain the bizarre situation in which she had suddenly found herself.
Simon returned in less than five minutes, carrying a black backpack. “Thank you,” he said to the doctor. “You can go now.”
As soon as the door shut behind the doctor, Andi sat up. “What happened to the Prophet?” she asked.
“He got away,” Simon said. “But the Denver police are looking for him. And hotel security will be watching for him.”
“When you find him, promise you won’t hurt him,” she said.
He glared at her. “He didn’t have any problem hurting you.”
She flinched at the anger in his voice. “He’s terrified. He’s never been in a situation like this before,” she said. “I’m sure when he calms down he’ll cooperate.”
“Save your breath,” Simon said. “No matter how much you want to believe it, Daniel Metwater isn’t the saint he’s been pretending to be. My guess is this isn’t his first run-in with the law.”
Was Simon right? How much did she know about the Prophet, really? But he had always been so gentle and kind to her. She couldn’t make the crazed, angry man who had confronted her tonight fit with her previous experience with him. “What are you doing?” she asked as Simon set the backpack on the floor at the end of the sofa.
“I’m staying here tonight.”
“You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will.”
“I don’t want you here,” she protested.
“Maybe not, but you need me.”
She swallowed down the fear his words kindled in her. “He left,” she said. “He won’t come back.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” He sat on the sofa, only a few inches from her feet. “He won’t give up that easily, and when he returns, you’ll be glad I’m here. What did he say to you while he was here?”
“He wanted my help to get out of here. He planned to dress up in some of my clothes and pretend to be my sister.”
“Did you refuse to help him? Is that what set him off?”
She put a hand to her cheek, remembering the sting of the slap. “I asked him about Michelle and Hunter. I asked if it was true that he tried to hurt them. He became very angry and slapped me. Why would he do that? He’s never done anything like that before.”
“He knows we’re closing in on him,” Simon said. “I think he’s trying to destroy everyone who could provide evidence against him.”
“But what do I know that could possibly hurt him?” she asked.
Simon regarded her coolly. “You’ve lived with him how long now? About six months?”
“Five.”
“You’re closer to him than anyone else.”
They were the same words Michelle had used. But they weren’t true. “He isn’t really close to anyone.”
Simon angled toward her, one arm along the back of the sofa. Weariness pulled at his eyes, and the dark shadow of beard showed along his jaw. If he had driven from Montrose this morning, that meant he had been up for hours. “Help me understand,” he said. “What is it about Metwater that attracted you? Why leave everything to live in the middle of nowhere with him? Seems to me you had it pretty good before you hooked up with him.”
“That’s because people like you think money solves everything,” she said. “My life was shallow and meaningless before I met the Prophet and heard him talk about what really matters.”
“And what is that?” he asked.
“Living in community. Being close to nature. Focusing on things of real worth, not merely those of monetary value.”
She braced herself, prepared for him to mock her, but he only nodded his head thoughtfully. “Those things are certainly important,” he said. “The problem with Metwater’s approach is that his idea of community is to live apart and isolated. He didn’t contribute to society, he only took from it. He liked to pass himself off as a giver, but really, he’s just a user. He used you.”
She hugged her arms across her chest and glared at him. “You’re one to talk,” she said. “You don’t care about me. You only want evidence for your case.”
His expression hardened. “You’re right. I want to build a case that will put Daniel Metwater away for years. He’s the worst kind of criminal—he pretends to care about people, then he takes advantage of the most vulnerable.”
“You’re wrong! You haven’t seen how he’s helped so many people. He’s helped addicts quit drugs and ex-convicts go straight.”
“Yeah? At what price? He takes everything they have and makes them believe they need him to survive.”
“Maybe they do,” she said. “Not everyone is capable of living in normal society.”
“Then
