Look Behind You

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Look Behind You Page 2

by Iris Johansen


  Kendra pointed to Gina’s right upper arm, left bare by her sleeveless top. “There’s also a slight tan line there in the exact dimensions of a nicotine patch.”

  Gina looked at her arm. “I quit for four years, and I started up again after my boyfriend and I broke up.”

  “… which brings me to another tan line,” Kendra pointed to Gina’s neck. “It looks like you’ve been wearing a heart-shaped pendant for quite some time. Every day for years but you recently stopped wearing it. Your skin is much lighter there. With no sign of an engagement or wedding ring, that suggests a breakup. Also, your left upper arm is much more tanned than your right. That’s where I got the long car trip. You drove here from Chicago.”

  “But you knew my parents were there. And my grandparents.”

  “Linguistics. You have a born-and-bred Chicago accent. Anyone who’s seen The Blues Brothers could spot it a mile away. It’s doubtful it would be quite so pronounced if your parents didn’t imprint it on you. And if their parents didn’t imprint it on them.”

  She scowled. “Right on all counts. But how the hell did you know about my bird?”

  Kendra took Gina’s hand and pointed to dozens of light scratches on the back of her hand and arm. “Too small and too light to be a cat or even a pet rodent. It’s clearly a small bird. Those light scratches run all the way up your arm and onto your shoulder. You take him out of his cage frequently. Obviously loved and spoiled.”

  “But what about all those other things? Papa John’s? Tennis?”

  Kendra smiled. “You were holding your phone when you walked in here. You’d probably just checked messages and your main screen was still lit up. Your app icons gave you away. Papa John’s Pizza, Starbucks, and The Tennis Channel. I could see that your most recent album played from your phone was The Who’s Tommy.”

  Gina looked down at her phone. “Oh, man.”

  “You can write a biography based on a person’s main Smartphone screen.”

  “Pretty pathetic life story.” Gina’s lips twisted. “Pizza delivery and drive-through coffee.”

  It did sound pathetic, Kendra thought, and suddenly all the vulnerable details she’d pulled together about Gina Carson were scrolling through her mind. Her antagonism toward the woman was abruptly gone. She smiled. “For the record, I have the same apps on my phone. But I also saw you had the Pacific Guest Suites app, which lets you use your phone to unlock your room. It’s a place I recommend to my colleagues and clients when they’re in town for more than a few days. And you also gave the Zillow real estate app prime placement on your screen, which tells me that you’re looking to buy instead of rent.”

  Gina nodded ruefully. “Well, I’ll be more careful about who sees my phone, that’s for damn sure.”

  Kendra turned to Metcalf. “The dog and pony show is over. Time for you to go.”

  “I said I’d consider leaving. I just did that and I’ve rejected the idea. At least not until you agree to come with us to the crime scene.” He coaxed, “What would it hurt? Just a quick glance around.”

  Kendra shook her head. “I have real work to do. My work.”

  “Dr. Michaels.” Gina Carson’s voice was hesitant. “I know I probably came on too strong with you. It’s a habit I have. Maybe it’s a little worse right now, because I’m the new kid in town. Everything’s pretty strange here for me right now. I just want you to know that, if you’re not doing what Metcalf wants because you’re pissed off at me, I’m not going to give you any trouble.”

  Shit. Those words had been hard for Gina. All she had was a tough façade and that damn cockatiel in her life right now. This was becoming more and more difficult for Kendra. “I’m not pissed off at you.” She made a face. “Not any longer. I just don’t want to get involved in another case right now.”

  “I know you don’t,” Metcalf said. “Griffin told me I’d have trouble convincing you. I was hoping that you’d think I was so charming and lovable I wouldn’t have to pull out the wild card Griffin gave me.”

  “Wild card?” Kendra repeated warily.

  “Griffin told me to tell you something.”

  “I can hardly wait to hear what it is,” she said dryly.

  “He said you owed him.”

  Kendra cursed. “He’s playing that card?”

  “He really wants your help on this.”

  That was clear enough. Griffin had recently been helpful when a friend of hers was in deep trouble. He’d given her manpower and lab time when he had no official obligation to do so. She had known his help would not be without strings.

  Now he was cashing in.

  “Okay,” she finally said. “I’ll visit this one crime scene with you and take a look around. That’s it.”

  Metcalf nodded. “That’s all I’m asking.”

  But one thing could lead to another, and she would have to be the one to call the halt. Her last case had been both physically and emotionally draining, and she needed to step back and heal for a time. She didn’t need this.

  But evidently she was going to get it.

  Just one quick look around. That was going to be her limit.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Kendra said. She turned to Gina. “And when we’re finished, you can use that Papa John’s app to order me a medium Meat Lovers pizza. I’m starving.”

  * * *

  METCALF OFFERED HER A lift to the crime scene, but Kendra turned him down flat. She preferred to follow in her own car. She didn’t want to be stuck there any longer than she needed to be.

  Within minutes she turned onto Holt Street and immediately found herself at a police road block. She saw Metcalf waving his badge at the officer, then pointing back to her. The cop waved them through.

  It was a block taken up by Kimbrough Elementary School on one side and a two-story apartment building on the other. In the middle of the street was a large white tent, approximately ten by ten feet. Kendra counted no less than a dozen uniformed police officers on the scene plus several detectives and forensics personnel.

  She parked behind Metcalf and walked toward the school with him and Gina. “I’m guessing the tent isn’t a PTA bake sale,” she said grimly.

  “San Diego PD put it up to spare the kiddies from what promises to be a horrific sight.”

  “Great. Thanks again for the wonderful afternoon.”

  “Aw, come on. What would you rather be doing today?”

  “Root canal. Colonoscopy. Having my fingernails removed with a pair of pliers.” She stopped outside the tent. “I smell gasoline. Something’s been cooking.” The realization hit her. “Something … or someone.”

  “Exactly,” Gina said. She grabbed the tent’s door flap. “Ready for this?”

  No, Kendra wanted to tell her. She wasn’t like them. She could never get used to the sad, horrible stories that greeted her at these crime scenes.

  She nodded. “I’m ready.”

  Kendra ducked through the flap and stopped cold. There in the center of the tent was a charred woman’s body bound to a desk chair.

  Her breath left her.

  It was the work of a monster.

  A police detective had entered behind them. “It happened around 11:30. The principal saw her burning out here. He ran out with an extinguisher and put it out.”

  Kendra still hadn’t adjusted to the shock. There were wisps of strawberry blond hair and a face that was half gone.

  Kendra looked away.

  Detach.

  Concentrate.

  “Burned alive?” Gina asked.

  Kendra shook her head. “No. She’s been dead for a few days.”

  “How can you tell?” Metcalf asked.

  “The odor. It’s not just charred flesh, there’s been decomposition.”

  The detective nodded. “The M.E. was just here. He backs that up. He says she’s been dead a few days at least.”

  Kendra made herself turn back toward the corpse. Corpse. That’s right, think of her as an object, a puzzle. Not as a woman w
ho’d had a life, friends, lovers. “Do we have an ID?”

  “Not yet,” the detective replied. “We’ve just started running her against missing persons.”

  Kendra studied the corpse, trying to pull anything from it she could. “If that doesn’t pan out, you might canvas some of the high-end hair salons. She used a Japanese hair conditioner that isn’t common around here. Tsubaki.”

  Gina jotted this down into her notebook. “I’m not sure I’m spelling it right. I’m a Pantene girl myself.”

  “I know.” Kendra knelt beside the corpse, which was still dripping with extinguisher foam. “Did anyone see her deposited here?”

  “Not so far,” the detective replied. “We’ve done a preliminary canvas, but no one reports seeing her before the fire.”

  “Probably a truck with a ramp. The chair could have been rolled out quickly, set on fire, and the truck took off before anyone noticed.” Kendra looked up. “It’s my guess her body was taped to the chair at a fairly active construction site. You should start there.”

  “What makes you say that?” Metcalf asked.

  She pointed to the casters, which were covered by a chalky powder. “That looks like silica dust, which you’ll find at many building sites. The body was already in this chair when it rolled across the dust and kicked some up.” She gently lifted the corpse’s left pant leg. “See? It’s not underneath the body.”

  “Very good,” Metcalf said.

  There was nothing good about anything connected to what had happened to this woman, Kendra thought. Certainly not the fact that Kendra was able to see what had happened to her. Why hadn’t someone been able to see it before it happened?

  Three more investigators entered the tent as Kendra examined the corpse’s high-heeled shoes. “It’s obvious she’s been dragged. There’s more construction dust here, too, but it’s different.”

  “Different how?” Jennings asked.

  “It’s darker. Looks like residue from cut granite.”

  One of the investigators shone his high-powered flashlight over the shoes. “Wait!” Kendra said. “Keep that light where it is.”

  She squinted at the pool of extinguisher fluid beneath the chair. The mirror-like surface reflected the seat’s underside. There was something there …

  “Someone give me evidence gloves.”

  Four pairs were suddenly thrust in her direction. She took a pair of plastic gloves from Metcalf and slid them on. She peered underneath the chair, which was relatively unscathed from the fire.

  Affixed to the chair’s underside was a shiny silver pouch.

  Kendra peeled it off and stood up.

  “What is it?” Gina asked.

  “Maybe nothing,” Kendra said as she loosened the pouch’s drawstrings. “But this seems like it might be made from a fire-retardant material.” She pulled two items from the pouch. “A set of keys and a pair of eyeglasses.”

  “Hers?” the detective asked.

  “Maybe, but I doubt it.” She opened the glasses. “These are men’s spectacles, probably for a face larger than hers was. And the keys have a tag for a supermarket loyalty program. Meijer’s.”

  “It’s a Midwestern chain,” Metcalf said. “If these things aren’t hers, what are they doing here?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” Kendra put the items in Metcalf’s hand. “The smell is getting to me. I have to get out of here.”

  Kendra lifted the tent flap and slid outside.

  “Wait.” Metcalf was following her. “That’s it?”

  “Yes. That’s all I got.” Her nostrils still burned from that horrible stench. She didn’t break stride. “Catch the beast who did this, will you?”

  “It would be easier if you helped us.”

  “I already have.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Not this time, Metcalf. Tell your boss that I consider my debt repaid.”

  Metcalf nodded. “I’ll tell him. Between you and me, we’re still in the position of owing you.”

  Kendra finally stopped. No use running away. She was far enough away that she shouldn’t be able to smell the terrible odor; it must be her imagination.

  “You’ve never owed us a thing,” Metcalf continued quietly. “Thanks for coming out here today.”

  “Sure. I’m certain you’ll get him. Whoever it is, he’s very concerned with calling attention to himself.”

  “You’ve given us a good start.”

  She nodded toward the tent. “Your partner’s very attractive. I’m pretty sure she’s interested in you.”

  Metcalf shook his head. “Your powers of observation have seriously let you down. She barely tolerates any of us.”

  “It’s a defense mechanism. She’s probably lonely, trying to start a new life for herself in a new town.”

  “You’re cutting her way more slack than I am.” He shook his head. “Anyway, she’s really not my type.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who’s threatened by strong women.”

  He smiled at her. “Not at all. It’s a quality I find most attractive.”

  Kendra turned away slightly. Metcalf was smart, good-looking, and a nice guy. She liked him, but she couldn’t return that romantic vibe she occasionally got from him.

  “Then maybe you should give her a chance.” Kendra cocked her head toward her car. “I’m outta here. Good luck with your case.”

  * * *

  HAD KENDRA MICHAELS MET Pretty Amanda yet?

  Hard to say.

  Zachary sat on the park bench and unwrapped his sandwich. As much as he wanted to be watching the activity in front of the elementary school, he knew better. Only amateurs lingered near their crime scenes. Profilers studied behavior traits in what they assumed were people like him. It was one sure way of getting caught.

  He was no amateur.

  And there was no one like him in all their books and charts.

  Still, he would have been thrilled to see Kendra Michaels admiring his handiwork.

  If, that is, she’d even been brought into the case. He had already been disappointed twice before, and there was no guarantee she was there this time either.

  Patience.

  It was a plan years in the making. He could wait a little while longer.

  He took a bite of his tuna-and-peppers sandwich as he watched the collegiate soccer team on the practice field. The goalie, a strapping young man named Todd Wesley, was doing well today.

  Zachary smiled. A good way for the young man’s teammates to remember him.

  Strapping Todd was a creature of habit. After practice, he’d grab a smoothie from the little shop on the corner before going to his apartment for a quick shower. He’d eat while watching television, then spend an hour on his sofa surfing the web until his girlfriend got off work at the campus library. She’d swing by, and the two of them would go out to dinner.

  Zachary shook his head. Did Strapping Todd know how monotonous his life had become? He certainly would’ve done things differently if he’d known this would be his last day on earth.

  No matter. Tonight would be different.

  Very different.

  Because this might be the one that would catch Kendra Michaels’ notice.

  And when she finally gave him the attention he deserved, the game would be on.…

  CHAPTER

  2

  IT WAS DARK BY THE TIME Kendra got back to her condo. She hadn’t cashed in on the pizza she’d only half-jokingly extracted from Metcalf’s partner, and her appetite had just started to recover from the horrible sight that had greeted her at the crime scene.

  She lived on the top floor of the four-story downtown complex, and before she’d even made it to her door, it occurred to her that she might be able to corral a friend to join her for dinner. She bypassed the elevator and walked down a flight of stairs. She rounded the corner to see her friend Olivia’s door was wide open.

  Kendra froze. What in the hell?

  There were voic
es inside, and a moment later three men emerged carrying tripods and camera cases.

  Kendra leaned inside the open door. “Knock knock,” she said.

  Olivia turned from the living room. “Hi, Kendra. I’ll be just a minute.”

  “Sure.”

  She smiled as she entered Olivia’s two-bedroom condo. The place was the base of operations for Olivia’s web destination Outasite, a popular site for the vision impaired featuring articles, product reviews, and discussion boards, all accessible by integrated audio screen-reading apps. The site occupied most of Olivia’s waking hours and it had evolved from a simple hobby to a full-time business that generated an income well into the six figures.

  Kendra watched as the last two members of the television crew left. She closed the door behind them. “Another news crew. Who was it this time?”

  “The BBC in England.” Olivia reached out for a chair near the large U-shaped wraparound desk that centered the room. “Nice guys, but like all camera crews, they move things and don’t put them back exactly where they belong.”

  “Ah, the price of fame.” Kendra watched her friend reach out for the chair next to her desk. “It’s a little to your left.”

  “Thanks.”

  She and Olivia had known each other since they were children at a school for the visually impaired in nearby Oceanside. Olivia had lost her sight in a childhood car accident but she still harbored hope that she would one day emerge from the darkness as Kendra had done. It was no wonder why TV crews were lined up to feature her in their broadcast stories; in addition to her considerable accomplishments, Olivia was extremely attractive, with olive-toned skin and long dark hair.

  Olivia moved carefully around her office restoring the furniture to its proper place. “It’s good exposure for my site, but days like this really put me behind in my content. I have a half-dozen product reviews to write.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to get in your way. If you’d rather I just—”

  “No, stay. Please. What’s been going on?”

  “Well, I have a new client. Borderline catatonic. I think I might be able to reach him, though.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s early going, but I think I may have a shot. I may try—”

 

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