She grimaced. “It sounds like you’re trying to use my words against me.”
“It’s the truth. You’ve already gathered a lot of pieces of the puzzle. Pieces no one else could have found. And I know we’ll find more.”
“We?” She turned toward him in surprise. “The FBI’s contracted you to work this case?”
He chuckled. “Oh, no. Griffin can’t afford to pay my rate just to work a homicide investigation.”
“Then why are you here?”
Lynch shrugged.
“Seriously,” she said. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be smuggling a scientist out of Russia or trying to ferret out a spy at some foreign embassy?”
He smiled. “Why would I want to do anything so boring when I could be here with you?”
She looked away from him. “You think I need a bodyguard?”
“Well, I haven’t shown you how to successfully break your attacker’s wrists yet.”
“I have Metcalf. He has a gun, you know.”
“Mine’s bigger.”
“Oh brother…”
“And I’m a much better shot than he is.”
“So that’s why you’re hanging around?”
Lynch smiled. “No.”
“Then why?”
“For someone with such remarkable powers of observation, you can be incredibly obtuse sometimes.”
“Ah. You want to stick around so you can bust my chops.”
“Well, I do thoroughly enjoy that.”
“Obviously. Anything else?”
“You called me,” he said simply. “It was too promising. Until I find out the real reason, I have to stick around and see if a promise can become reality. I’m betting it can.”
She was suddenly having trouble breathing. “Yeah, sure.”
He placed a finger under her chin and gently raised her head to face him. “So defensive. Who knows? I might have stayed with the Bureau forever if someone like you had been around to keep me entertained.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You have to work for yourself. You need the option of walking away when the higher-ups get too stupid or annoying.”
“True.” He paused. “But I’d never walk away from you.”
She couldn’t look away from him. That intensity and charisma was overpowering. He was totally enigmatic and she was never sure whether or not to believe him. But in this moment, she did believe him. Or was it only because she so desperately wanted to believe what he was saying to her? Either way it could be dangerous to her. There had to be a reason why she had walked away from him after that last case and buried herself in her work. She tore her gaze away from him. “Really? You’ll have to tell me how many times you’ve said that to a woman. Seeing that you’ve had practically a harem, it—”
Lynch’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He grimaced. “I should know better than to mix business with the personal. I’ll discuss that nasty charge later.” He fished his phone out and read the screen. “Elena Meyer’s parents are flying in to claim her body this afternoon. Their flight lands at 4:15.”
She drew a deep breath. Of course she was grateful for the distraction. It was only the sudden absence of tension that made her feel this flat. “Who sent you that text?”
“Griffin. But he actually sent the text to Metcalf.”
“Then how did you—?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. You hacked Metcalf’s phone.”
“Of course. It took me all of fifteen seconds as soon as we were within Bluetooth range of each other.” He nodded toward Metcalf, who was staring at his phone at the end of the driveway. “Oh, look. He’s getting the message now.”
“That little trick is going to get you arrested one day.”
“It already has. The president of Spain really doesn’t have a sense of humor where his privacy is concerned.”
“Metcalf should snap on the cuffs right now.”
“He’d never do it. Not if he wants your help.”
“You’re assuming I’d step in on your behalf.”
He asked softly, “Wouldn’t you?”
She didn’t look at him. “Depends on how charitable I was feeling.”
Metcalf walked toward them, leaving Hollingsworth at the end of the driveway. “Elena Meyer’s parents are flying in and they should—”
“Four-fifteen, we know,” Lynch said.
“How in the hell—?” Metcalf looked at the phone in Lynch’s hand. “Oh, man. Stop it. Right now.”
“Just my way of staying in the loop.”
“I’m already keeping you in the loop. Stay out of my phone, Lynch. Or I’ll have to—”
Kendra interrupted, “I want to speak to her parents,”
“So do we,” Metcalf said. “Trust me, it’ll happen even if we have to meet them at the medical examiner’s office.”
She grimaced. “That would be a fun place for the interview.”
“They just lost their daughter. It won’t be fun anyplace we do it.”
Kendra nodded as she took one last look around the house. Had she missed anything? “Keep me posted, will you?”
“You got someplace to be?”
“A group session back at my studio.” She glanced back at Hollingsworth in the driveway and felt another wave of sympathy as she saw the tension of his back and shoulders. The worst didn’t always happen, she told herself. Lynch was right, the fact that Elizabeth had been taken didn’t mean murder. But that wasn’t going to comfort this father whose daughter had disappeared for no apparent reason. And now it was time to forget about comfort and tell him the truth. She braced herself and turned back to Metcalf. “But before I go, let me tell you why you might want to get forensics out here right away, and definitely question those neighbors to see if they can tell you anything about a silver van or SUV…”
CHAPTER
3
LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Lynch pulled up to the small medical building that housed Kendra’s office. He turned to Kendra. “Can I come inside?”
“The observation booth will already be packed with parents. You don’t have to stick around. I’ll catch a Lyft back home.”
“No. Call me instead. I’ll be down the street, drinking coffee and catching up on emails. And while I’m at it, I’ll check my sources and see if I can find any connections between Elena Meyer and Elizabeth Gelson.”
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
Kendra climbed out of the car and hurried into the building, where she knew some of her clients would already be waiting. Sure enough, Serena Davis, Tim Shales, and Haley Sims, aged nine, eleven, and seven, respectively, were waiting outside her office with their mothers.
“Ready to make some music?” Kendra said.
Only Haley responded with a weak “Yeah.” As usual, none of the children made eye contact with her. They were autistic, and they were there precisely because of their difficulty connecting with others. Kendra welcomed them into her studio, a large carpeted room with a piano, a drum kit, and several other musical instruments on stands. The children went straight to their preferred instruments—the drums for Serena, a guitar for Tim, and an electronic keyboard for Haley.
Kendra made small talk with the mothers while two more children, David Gray and Vicki Misner, arrived with their parents. David picked up a bass guitar and Vicki grabbed a cowbell. Kendra nodded to the parents and they adjourned to a small observation room with a one-way glass window.
“Have you been practicing?” Kendra asked the children.
“No,” Haley said listlessly. The others didn’t respond.
Kendra smiled. “Points for honesty. Okay, this is all about learning to play in a band.”
Vicki started striking the cowbell.
“Not yet, Vicki. Vicki?”
Vicki stopped.
“Okay,” Kendra said. “There’s more to being in a band than just playing your parts. You must also pay attention to what everyone else is doing. That’s the most important thing. Does anyone remember why you must pay
attention to each other?
“So we can stay together and keep the sound balanced,” Tim said.
Kendra knew Tim would be the one to answer, just as she knew he would answer with a word-for-word recitation of what she’d told them at their last session.
“That’s right, Tim. Very good. We’re going to start with ‘Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da.’ I know you guys really like that one. Let’s try to stay together this time.” Kendra started the time count by clapping her hands. “Ready … Go!”
Vicki started with the cowbell and Haley jumped in with the keyboard a measure later. A few bars after that Serena joined in on the drums and David and Tim started on the guitars.
It was probably one of the worst renditions of the song Kendra had ever heard, despite some good keyboard playing by Haley.
But it was wonderful.
Because the kids were loving it. Their smiles grew broader with each passing note. And most importantly, they were working together, accommodating each other’s rhythms and dynamics.
Kendra found herself smiling as broadly as any of the kids. These children had difficulty communicating on any level, but maybe, through music, she’d helped them crack open a door. There were weeks and months of work ahead, but if this could help them connect with the world around them, it would be worth it.
She’d needed this, she realized. At that moment the horror of the murdered and missing women were a million miles away. Here, in this room, there was only joy.
And hope.
* * *
ONE HOUR AND SEVEN similarly mangled pop classics later, Kendra said good-bye to the children and their parents. It was a good day and everyone knew it. She watched them through the tall glass windows of her building corridor. They seemed happy as they piled into their minivans.
“That was beautiful.” Lynch’s voice.
She turned to see him standing in the hall behind her.
“Where did you come from?” she asked. “I thought you were going to get coffee.”
“Changed my mind.”
“So where have you been?”
He pointed to the outer doorway to her observation room. “Watching you.”
“After I told you to go away?”
“I entered from out here. The parents were very accommodating. They made room for me. Nice people.”
She clicked her tongue. “Too nice, obviously.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He grinned. “I love watching you work.”
“The kids were doing all the work.”
“No, the kids were having a blast. And believe me so were their parents. I can understand why you wouldn’t want to leave this behind.”
She stiffened at the thought. “And I never will.”
“You shouldn’t. You’re breaking new ground here. How often does anyone get to do that?”
She smiled. “When I see it working, there’s nothing better.”
“I can see that. You’re positively … luminous.”
She instinctively looked away. “Yeah, sure.”
He leaned toward her. “And that shouldn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does. With one glance you pick up just about all there is to know about everyone you meet. But you hate it when you give away anything about yourself. Even if it’s something kind of wonderful.”
She was about to argue, but she stopped herself. “I guess I just like to be in control of what I choose to share. You should identify with that, you’re into control in a big way, Lynch.”
“Guilty. But sometimes it’s good to let go.”
“I did that a lot back in my wild days right after I got my sight.”
“I wish I’d known you then.”
What would it have been like to have encountered Lynch during that period when she had never run across a boundary that she didn’t try to break? Exciting? Breathtaking? Challenging?
Dangerous …
“Maybe. Maybe not. I had a lot of fun, but I was probably pretty selfish. I wanted to taste everything life had to offer.”
“Then I would have shared the cup and filled it for you to the brim again. You’d earned it.”
She shrugged. “That’s what I told myself.”
“Well, if you’re worried about that rosy glow of yours making you appear too vulnerable, I’ve got something that will wipe it right off your face.”
“Meeting a dead woman’s grieving parents?”
“Yep.”
“That would do it.”
He raised his phone. “Metcalf sent us both a text about fifteen minutes ago. They’re going straight from the airport to the medical examiner’s office. We’re going to meet them there.”
Kendra nodded, imagining that glow he’d mentioned was fading fast. “They’re making her parents come to ID the body in person?”
“No, it’s their choice. They could have looked at a photo, but they wanted to come see her and bring her home themselves.”
“I can see that they would.” Kendra was heading for the door. “They’re probably hoping there was some mistake. It’s the first thing that every parent thinks when it’s their child that’s been taken. That it couldn’t happen to them and their family.” She added wearily, “I wish they were right this time.”
* * *
IT TOOK THEM THIRTY MINUTES to get to the medical examiner’s office, and as they pulled into the parking lot, Kendra registered a text from Metcalf:
ID made, now’s the time. Conference Room #1.
Kendra grabbed the passenger door handle. “Let’s go.”
They entered the building and took the stairs up one floor to the administrative offices. Then they made their way to a small conference room at the end of the corridor. Metcalf was already seated at a long table across from the couple. He looked at them in relief as they came into the room. He might be an experienced FBI agent, but dealing with a victim’s parents had always been difficult for him. All the training in the world couldn’t change the fact that he hadn’t been able to develop the calluses needed to keep him from empathizing. What the hell? Neither had Kendra. And one glance was all it took to see that the Meyers were far from stoic.
The man was withdrawn to the point of catatonia and the woman’s face was stained by tears. Probably the absolute worst time to pry information from them, Kendra thought. She took a seat next to Metcalf. Lynch stood behind them.
Metcalf quickly made the introductions. “Keith and Cynthia Meyer, this is Kendra Michaels and Adam Lynch.”
Kendra leaned toward them. “We’re very sorry for your loss. We know you’ve already been through a lot. We’ll try not to keep you any longer than absolutely necessary.”
No reaction from the couple. They were probably still seeing their daughter in the morgue downstairs, Kendra thought. Like they’d ever forget it.
Metcalf broke the long moment of silence. “We have reason to believe your daughter was trying to make contact with Kendra shortly before her death. Did she ever mention the name Kendra Michaels to you?”
Keith and Cynthia shook their heads “no.”
Kendra wondered if they’d even heard him. They seemed to be totally numb. “I didn’t know your daughter, and I don’t know how she knew me,” she said gently. “But I want to help find out who did this to her. Will you help us do that?”
A single tear streamed down Keith’s face as he nodded. “Whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” Kendra said softly. “Where did your daughter work?”
Cynthia dabbed her eyes with a crumpled tissue. “She was a paralegal. She wanted to be an attorney, but after she graduated from college she decided to get some work experience before she started law school. But the firm kept her so busy that law school never happened for her.”
“Which firm?” Metcalf asked.
“Collins, Collins and Levinsky.”
“It’s a big firm,” Keith added.
Metcalf jotted the name into his notebook. “One of th
e biggest. They have offices all over the world.”
Keith looked up and blinked back his tears. “They really liked Elena. She was a hard worker.”
“I’m sure she was,” Kendra said. “She worked for them in Connecticut?”
“Yes, but she sometimes travelled for them if they were working on a big case,” Cynthia said. “She was sometimes gone for weeks.”
“Is that why she was here? For work?”
Cynthia shook her head. “That’s what’s so strange. She’d been out here for the firm a few times in the past few months, but not this time.” She had to stop a moment as her voice broke. “We’re her emergency contact with them and they called us Monday morning asking us how to get in touch with her. We didn’t … even know she was gone.”
“So her firm didn’t know either?” Kendra asked.
“No. Not a clue.” She dabbed at her damp cheek. “But they seemed awfully anxious to get in touch with her though.”
Lynch took a seat next to Kendra. “Do you have any idea what could have brought her out here? Maybe a friend she’d made or someone she was dating? Anything at all?”
“No.” Keith took his wife’s hand and held it tightly as if trying to share his strength with her. “She didn’t especially like coming here, did she, Cynthia? She wasn’t able to talk about cases she was working on, but I had a feeling she didn’t like the ones she was assisting with out here.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” Kendra asked.
Cynthia and Keith looked at each other for a long moment before Cynthia replied, “Sunday.”
“You’re sure?”
She nodded. “Elena took us to lunch.”
“Was there anything unusual about her?” Metcalf asked.
“No. Nothing at all.”
“Except maybe—” Keith stopped.
Kendra leaned closer. “Except what?”
“It wasn’t anything really.” He thought for a moment. “She squeezed tighter.”
“What do you mean?” Kendra asked.
“When she hugged me goodbye, she squeezed extra tight, you know? Like she didn’t want to let go.”
“Unusual? She’d never done that before?” Lynch asked.
“Elena was very independent. We knew she loved us, but she wasn’t demonstrative. It would take something for her to show us that she needed us. Maybe when she was having a rough time at work or problems with a guy. She never liked to talk to us about that stuff, but her daddy could tell.” Keith’s eyes welled with tears again. “I could always tell.”
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