Look Behind You

by Iris Johansen

  “Hmm, whatever you say, but it still sounds like we’re working in the Kendra Michaels unit. Not that I’m complaining.”

  She smiled faintly, “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “So what’s today’s itinerary?” he asked. “All I got was the address for the meetup.”

  “It’s a field trip. We’re piling into a van and visiting the locations where the victims’ bodies were found. It’s really for the benefit of our visitors. I was at the last two crime scenes while they were still active, and I’ve already seen thousands of pictures of the others. Still, nothing’s the same as being there.”

  Lynch looked ahead and nodded. “That has to be your dream team.”

  Kendra glanced up. They had arrived at the parking lot of the Edward Schwartz Federal Building on Front Street and the four visiting investigators were standing with Griffin, Metcalf, and Gina next to the large black van. Lynch parked, and he and Kendra climbed out.

  Metcalf didn’t look happy to see Lynch. “I didn’t realize you were joining us.”

  “Problem?”

  “Of course not.” He turned to Gina. “This is Adam Lynch. He helps us out here once in a while. As an added bonus, he’s really good at getting under the boss’s skin.”

  Gina’s face lit up in a way Kendra hadn’t seen yet. Typical Lynch response. She smiled and shook Lynch’s hand. “Sounds entertaining. Hope I get to see that.”

  Lynch smiled back. “Stay close. It won’t take long.”

  One by one, the visiting investigators stepped forward for their introductions to Lynch. NYC FBI Agent Richard Gale seemed more interested in Lynch’s car than anything else. Arnold Huston gave him a warm and respectful greeting, and Ed Roscoe puffed his chest out slightly when confronted with a man who threatened his “sexiest guy on the case” status. Kendra was pretty sure he caught her rolling her eyes.

  Trey Suber was the most excited to meet Lynch. Before their handshake was even concluded, Trey began pumping him for details on the same case for which he’d queried Kendra. “You spoke to Colby on his second-to-last day at San Quentin, didn’t you? Face to face?”

  Lynch seemed amused by the young man’s ghoulish enthusiasm. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

  “Would you, by any chance, have a recording of that conversation?”

  Lynch turned to Kendra. “Is this guy for real?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She motioned to Suber. “He’s waiting for an answer.”

  Lynch turned back toward him. “Uh, no. No recording. Griffin was there too. He may have—”

  “He doesn’t. Too bad. It would have been nice for my collection.”

  “Your collection,” Lynch repeated.

  “My database. It’s more complete than anything the FBI has. It’s helped me bring down four serial killers in the past three years.” He raised his smart phone. “I can forward you press clippings of those cases, if you’d like. What’s your email address?”

  “That’s okay. I believe you.”

  Suber seemed disappointed as he lowered his phone. “Anyway, it’ll be a pleasure to work together. I hope we can sit down sometime and talk about your experiences with the Colby case. Maybe the same time I talk to Kendra.”

  Lynch looked at him in blank disbelief.

  At that moment, Griffin walked over to the van and slid open the door. “Okay, everybody. Ready for your murder tour of San Diego?”

  Lynch took Kendra by the arm. “This is gonna be one weird day.”

  * * *

  THE CLOSE PROXIMITY OF the downtown locations made the tour a reasonably quick one and there were no major revelations to Kendra that she hadn’t already picked up from the crime scene photographs. They visited the harborside last, alongside a large supertanker being repaired just south of the Coronado Bridge.

  “This was where the first victim was found?” Lynch said.

  Kendra nodded. “The corpse was recovered from the water by the tanker repair crew.”

  They stepped a few feet away from the others. “So, has our morning given you any special insights?” Lynch asked.

  “Nothing new. It has been interesting watching how everyone works, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kendra pointed to Gale, the sour-looking FBI agent from New York. “Look at Special Agent Gale. Every site we visited seemed to make him angrier and angrier. I don’t know if he learned much, but this little excursion lit a fire in him. He looks like he’s ready to do whatever it takes to find this guy.”

  “I see what you mean. The killer had better hope Gale isn’t the first one to find him.” Lynch looked around. “What about the others? That guy looks more like a mellow grandpa.”

  “Arnold Huston, the D.C. police detective. Not mellow. Sad. He’s taking this personally. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s one of those cops whom the victims’ families still keep in touch with and invite to their pool parties, weddings, and Bar Mitzvahs. This killer might be why he hasn’t retired yet. He wants this guy just as bad as Gale, maybe even more.”

  “Interesting. What about the movie star over there?”

  “Ed Roscoe. I’m actually a little surprised. He seemed a little superficial to me, but he’s really done his homework. He already knows the San Diego dossier backward and forward. He went right to the spot where the body was found at each location, and he knows the times, dates, and other stats. I’m impressed.”

  “So am I.” Lynch shook his head as he watched Trey Suber furiously scribbling on his tablet computer with a stylus. “But the serial killer fanboy is setting the bar pretty high. He’s actually been taking measurements at every stop.”

  “I noticed. I think he has an app in that tablet that combines his photographs into a 3D model of each crime scene.”

  Lynch craned his neck to try to see Suber’s screen. “Okay, I have to admit that’s pretty bad-ass.”

  “I thought that would appeal to your inner tech geek. The models will become part of his collection, no doubt. If there’s a pattern to be found, I’d count on Trey Suber to find it first.”

  “Without a doubt.” He pointed to Gina Carson, who was sketching in a large Moleskine notebook. “She’s doing something similar, but in a low-tech sort of way.”

  “Exactly. She’s a pretty good artist. I caught a glimpse of her sketch at the last stop. She probably does that to cement each crime scene in her mind.”

  “She’s been sticking pretty close to Metcalf. Are they a thing now?”

  “I don’t think so, but she may be interested. She was the only one who laughed at a lame joke he made yesterday.”

  “Oh, then she’s definitely interested. I’ve heard Metcalf’s jokes.”

  Kendra looked out at the bay for a long moment.

  Beautiful waters. Bright sunlight. Intelligent men, voicing intelligent opinions.

  It was all wrong.

  “This isn’t working for me,” she said flatly.

  “Really?” Lynch said mildly. “Would you like to tell me what isn’t working?”

  “This. I can’t work this way.” She whirled toward him and lowered her voice. “The killer is still out there and we’re moving at a crawl. We’re sitting here talking about Metcalf’s love life? A field trip? Everyone is overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of these killings, and we’re stuck just trying to get a handle on it.”

  “Griffin says that San Diego PD is coming to brief us after lunch,” Lynch said solemnly. “Won’t that be interesting?”

  “Stop being sarcastic. It’s a reasonable thing to do. For them, not for me.”

  “Then what do you propose we do?”

  He wanted her to be the one to say it. He’d probably been watching and expecting this reaction since they’d arrived here, but he wasn’t going to give her an excuse to argue. “When we break for lunch, I’m splintering off on my own. Are you with me?”

  Lynch smiled. “Well, I’m not hanging out with them. Trey Suber might corner me again. Where are we going?”

  “I do
n’t need to crack twenty-six cases. I just need to solve one to get this guy. I need to narrow my focus.”

  “On what?”

  Kendra watched the group as they started back toward the van. “The case that brought me in. Amanda Robinson. Her body was set on fire in front of an elementary school. I picked up a few things at the scene, but I don’t know how far it’s taken them yet. I’ll start with her.”

  “Okay.” He made a grandiose gesture for her to precede him. “I hear and obey. You see how meek and accommodating I’m being? Where you go, I go.”

  “Until you decide you won’t. Let’s go tell Griffin.”

  Griffin, as it turned out, didn’t need to be told. He stood next to the van’s open door. “Need a lift back to your car?”

  Kendra frowned. “How did you know?”

  “We’ve worked enough cases together that I know when you’re ready to go your own way. I could see you shifting and pawing your foot all morning.”

  “You make me sound like a pony.”

  “No, just a very distinguished and intelligent high-bred mare. Do me a favor, though. Keep us in the loop. I really want this dream team idea to work. The media possibilities are enormous and a real career booster. But I need to keep you people from tripping over each other.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t want this investigation to turn into a Marx Brothers routine.”

  Lynch slapped the van with the palm of his hand. “Or a clown car?”

  “Too late for that.” He climbed into the van. “Climb aboard. The Barnum & Bailey Express is departing.”

  * * *

  MINUTES LATER, KENDRA AND Lynch were back in his Ferrari. After he started it, he turned toward her. “Where are we headed?”

  Kendra was perusing the FBI report on her tablet. “Amanda Robinson was at the Excite Bar on University Avenue with some coworkers. She sent for a Vroom car and her friends saw her picked up outside the bar. But she never made it home.”

  “Did they find the driver?”

  “Yes. He reported a no-show for her and we’ve confirmed another fare for him four minutes later. He was cleared. Somebody else intercepted her.”

  “Did her friends get a make and model on the car?”

  “There’s some dispute. They agree it was a dark midsize sedan and it had a Vroom magnetic decal on the passenger side door.”

  “Okay. Any video of the car from traffic or security cams?”

  “Not yet. They’re still working on it.”

  “Then what’s your play? Interview her coworkers? The staff at the bar?”

  “Neither.”

  He gave her a questioning look.

  She turned off the tablet computer and rested it on her lap. “The San Diego Development Services Department. It’s just down the street.”

  * * *

  MINUTES AFTER ARRIVING AT the single-story building on First Street, Kendra and Lynch were shown into the offices of City Development Manager Gareth Zane.

  The large office was lined with tall shelves packed with cloth-bound survey maps. A large framed map of San Diego County, obviously decades old, dominated the wall behind the desk.

  Zane crossed in front of his desk to shake hands with them. “My assistant just told me you need help with a murder investigation…” His brows lifted. “Did I hear that correctly?”

  “I’m afraid so,” she said. “I’m Kendra Michaels and this is Adam Lynch. We’re consulting with the FBI on this case.”

  Zane motioned for them to sit down. “This is a first for me. How can I help?”

  “Your office issues permits for new construction and structural renovations, is that right?”

  “Yes. We make sure the plans conform to code, then afterward we inspect and sign off on the finished projects.”

  “And does that mean you have a current file on all in-progress construction projects in the county?”

  He nodded. “Theoretically.”

  “What does that mean?” Lynch asked.

  “Well, at any given time there are dozens, maybe even hundreds, of unpermitted construction projects underway in the county.”

  “Do-it-yourselfers?” Kendra said.

  “That, unlicensed contractors, plus additions and renovations the property owners know won’t be approved. We’re always on the lookout for violators, but we can only do so much.”

  “But what if we’re looking for projects falling within certain parameters?” Kendra said.

  “Depends on the parameters. Geographic? Within a certain time span?” Zane motioned toward the computer keyboard on his desk. “We have that information in our database.”

  Kendra leaned toward him. “I’m looking for a new home construction site that involved gypsum paving and an in-ground pool. It’s incomplete and it’s not easily visible from nearby structures or streets.”

  Zane pursed his lips. “Hmm. I’m afraid our records won’t give you that kind of detail.”

  “Then what can you give us?” Lynch said.

  Zane thought about it. “Well, I can generate a list of unfinished construction properties that applied for pre-construction permits, but were still listed as unfinished after their target completion date. We usually don’t have materials in the plan and in any case, it’s not a searchable component. But I can include a pool in the search parameters.”

  “Do it,” Kendra said. “Please.”

  Zane sat behind his desk. After a few minutes of typing, the printer behind him whirred and spat out dozens of printed pages.

  He looked up. “Okay, that gives us nineteen properties.”

  “Now I need to know their proximity to other buildings. And it would be helpful to see how close they are to a power substation.”

  Lynch shot her an incredulous glance. “A power substation? Really?”

  Kendra nodded. “I’ll explain later.”

  Zane pointed to the large bound volumes on his shelves. “We have neighborhood survey maps, but to be honest I usually just use Google Earth. That will give you an idea what’s nearby.”

  Kendra unzipped her folio case and pulled out her tablet computer. “Mind if I do that here? If I need anything else, I’d like to be nearby.”

  “No problem. Set up on the table in the corner.”

  “Thanks.”

  With Lynch holding up the printouts in front of her, Kendra’s fingers flew over her tablet screen. One by one, she looked at a satellite view of each of the property sites. She discounted most immediately since they sat in heavily-trafficked areas with high visibility from the road and neighboring lots. Four seemed to fit the bill fairly well.

  On the last property, she pulled up the satellite image. “Think we can count this one as a possible hit. There’s the outline of a pool, but there doesn’t even appear to be a paved driveway.”

  Lynch studied the printout. “It’s a motel, but it looks like they didn’t have the funds to finish it. Construction started over six years ago.”

  Kendra ran her fingers over a dark object immediately adjacent to the lot. “Could this be…?”

  “Wow.” Lynch smiled. “I’d say that’s a power substation. How in the hell…?”

  “Let’s go.” She jumped to her feet. “I’ll explain on the way there.”

  CHAPTER

  8

  “MINERAL OIL?” LYNCH PULLED onto the I-8 freeway and accelerated.

  “There was a slight residue on the chair with Amanda Robinson’s burned corpse. I was pretty sure it was mineral oil, but I had no idea what it meant. So I did a little online research. Mineral oil is used as a coolant in power transformers, but only for outdoor installations. Fire codes prevent it from being used indoors in case of leakage. That’s what made me think to look for a nearby outdoor transformer substation.”

  “Hmm. Did it occur to you that the mineral oil just may have been there to lubricate the casters of that chair?”

  “It did. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  A few minutes later, they pulled up to the construction
site and parked on a shadowy street in the Jamul neighborhood. The two-story motel was little more than a shell and the property had been overrun by weeds and vegetation.

  “Except for the vines, it looks exactly as it did in the Google Earth satellite image,” Lynch said.

  “Exactly. This place hasn’t been touched in years.” Kendra looked down at the gravel and dirt path. “But I think a vehicle has been here recently. Looks like the rocks have been freshly punched into the earth.”

  Lynch glanced at the humming transformer and nearby power lines. “Poor placement for a motel. No wonder it’s sat here unfinished all this time.”

  Kendra pointed to the dirty stucco that faced the transformer substation. “Probably some leakage from the transformer. There’s a light film of oil on that wall.”

  “Looks like you were right,” he murmured.

  Kendra glanced up at the two-story structure, which had no doors or windows. It consisted of thirty-two guest rooms, sixteen on each floor, each facing what would have been the parking lot. Beyond the stucco exteriors, the guest rooms were littered with trash and construction debris, separated from each other only by thin wooden framing.

  “See anything?”

  Kendra squinted into the building. The sun had set over the adjacent hillside, casting long shadows over the abandoned structure. She pointed toward the dark front office. “Let’s go in here.”

  Lynch followed her as she moved through the wood-and-stucco opening. A stale odor permeated the room.

  Something rustled in the corner.

  Lynch instinctively stepped in front of her. His gun was suddenly in his hand and his entire body was in attack mode.

  More rustling, moving among discarded bags of cement mix.

  Three rats emerged and scampered into the darkness.

  Lynch lowered his gun.

  Kendra took the lead again, moving through a back doorway. She pulled out her phone, flipped on the light and held it over her head. “A hallway. Looks like it runs the entire length of the building.”

  Her nose tingled with a familiar odor.

  Death.

  “She was here.”

  “What?”

  Kendra’s stomach tightened. “I think Amanda Robinson was here. She’d been decomposing for a few days before she was dropped in front of the school. That same stench is coming from this hallway.”