Look Behind You

by Iris Johansen

  “Well, it did one thing for us.” Kendra looked outside her window. “The chemical gave us one more way to try and track this guy. If it helps us find him before he kills again, it will have been worth it.”

  “How self-sacrificing of you. Personally I’d prefer to spare myself that extreme discomfort, but it did rouse my killer instincts.” He added grimly, “And that might make Zachary tossing out his poison seeds like Johnny Appleseed an even greater mistake.”

  CHAPTER

  9

  THEY KNEW THEY WERE approaching the construction site a full block away due to the blinding white light which now lit up the entire scene. There were over a dozen vehicles in the unfinished parking lot, including several police cruisers, a pair of Hazardous Materials trucks, FBI crime scene vans, and a fire engine. Kendra counted at least twenty people moving around the structure.

  Lynch leaned toward the driver and pointed to Griffin, who was talking to one of the uniformed cops. “Pull alongside him. He’ll be happy to see us.”

  The driver stopped next to Griffin, and Kendra and Lynch hopped out.

  Griffin looked their scrubs up and down. “Interesting fashion statement.”

  “Thank you.” Lynch motioned back toward the cab driver. “Pay the man, Griffin.”

  “Why me?”

  “They took my wallet at the hospital. It will probably be thrown away and if I’m lucky, the cash, credit cards, and driver’s license will be returned to me after they’ve been given a nice soapy bath.” Lynch leaned back to glance at the meter. “By the way, that explanation just cost you another fifty-five cents. I recommend you pay him before it costs you any more.”

  Griffin paid the driver, who was obviously curious about the work lights and activity at the half-completed motel.

  “Please tip him better than that,” Lynch said. “He earned it.”

  Griffin shook his head as he shoved a few more dollars into the cab driver’s hand. “Just when I start to forget what a complete pain in the ass you are…”

  Kendra stepped toward the structure. “What have you found?”

  “Nothing yet. The hazmat team just gave us the all-clear a few minutes ago. The floor has been scrubbed clean, and they aired the place out. Our evidence team is giving the car a once-over before we tow it to the garage.”

  Kendra nodded. “The car’s interior looked as if it had been wiped. I doubt you’ll find prints, but there may be something else there. Let’s go inside.”

  She started for the entrance, but she found herself slowing almost involuntarily before she reached the doorway. She stopped.

  Lynch placed his hand on the small of her back and whispered, “You don’t need to do this. We can look at the car at the FBI garage.”

  He was trying to be supportive, but the gesture only annoyed her. It only pointed out this moment of weakness and the fact that it should be herself at which that annoyance should be aimed. “No. It’s fine. Let’s go in.”

  She moved through the wood-framed entranceway and made her way to the rear corridor, which was now brilliantly illuminated by work lights on tall stands. The floor was wet and the dead rats and most of the construction debris had been removed.

  As they walked down the hallway, she saw that the boards had been removed from the opening at the far end, exposing the hallway to the night air. The car was now flooded with light and the doors were open. Crime scene techs leaned inside, inspecting the seats and floors.

  The dream team stood a few feet away.

  Agent Gale stepped toward them. “We didn’t expect to see you here.” He gave their scrubs only a cursory glance and then returned to what was important to him. “Good work finding this place.”

  Kendra peered into the open car door. “Have they found anything?”

  “Nah. No prints. They swabbed for skin oil on the door handle, but they’re not optimistic.”

  Kendra pointed at the magnetic Vroom sign on the car door. “What about the sign? Any way we can narrow down to where it came from?

  Ed Roscoe turned and approached with a pseudo-sexy strut that made Kendra slightly ill. Was that something he developed before his movie or after?

  “No such luck,” Roscoe said. “Amazon and dozens of other online retailers have been selling ’em for years for seven bucks a pop. Anyone can order one.”

  Kendra looked down at a green cardboard disc at her feet. She glanced around and saw that there were half a dozen more placed around the car. “These weren’t here before.”

  “They’re mine,” Trey Suber said from the other side of the car. He held his tablet computer in front of him, snapping photos of the scene from various vantage points. “I use them for reference. I link up the dots between pictures taken from different angles, then my software creates a 3D model I can rotate and examine any way I want.” He showed Kendra his tablet, which displayed a view of the car. As he ran his finger over the glass screen, the room twirled left and right as if the camera were flying over and around it.

  “I saw you doing that at the harbor this morning,” Kendra said. “It’s amazing. You do this for all the cases you work?”

  Suber nodded. “And for locations in old cases I study. I can show you some of your old crime scene locales, if you’d like.”

  Kendra slapped her hand over his screen. “Don’t.”

  “I just thought—”

  “Not interested. I have no desire to even think about those cases ever again, you understand?”

  He backed away. “Sure.”

  Agent Gale’s sour expression softened slightly and for a moment Kendra thought he might smile. “The kid tried to show me some of my old scenes during lunch and I almost decked him. You think he would’ve learned his lesson.”

  Suber lowered his tablet. “I thought you people might have more curiosity about your own cases.”

  “Kid, we lived them,” Gale said. “No need to rehash unpleasant memories. Haven’t we been doing that enough this week?”

  Suber shrugged. “I just don’t feel that way.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Lynch said. “That’s because you live, breathe, and eat this stuff. It’s why you’re such a good profiler.”

  “Exactly,” Suber said.

  Kendra smiled. “Modest, too.”

  “I know I’m good at what I do. Just like you’re good at what you do.”

  “Okay, then tell me something new about our killer. Something we didn’t know before,” she said.

  Suber pushed up his glasses. “When I was on the case in Florida, I actually thought the killer might have been of lower intelligence with difficulty holding onto jobs and relationships. I think I was wrong. The killer was playing a part for us there. I now think we’re dealing with a highly-organized man, mid-to-late thirties, with high intelligence. He’s planned this for a long time, and he’s extremely interested in news accounts of his killings. He’s probably obsessive about it. When we get a suspect, we have to check online activity or computer access at nearby libraries. Or to see if he’s suddenly buying copies of every local paper at a neighborhood newsstand. I’m positive he’ll be doing this, like an actor in a play reading his reviews.”

  “A few of mine were bedwetters,” Gale said.

  Suber nodded. “Possibly. Six out of ten serial killers habitually wet the bed after the age of twelve, though most outgrow it sometime during adolescence. Psychologists think it reflects a lack of control or might just be a symptom of psychological stress. This won’t do us much good to find him though. We need to focus on his attention to the media.”

  “Interesting,” Kendra said absently. She was glancing around at the construction debris.

  “What are you looking for?” Lynch said.

  Kendra’s eyes flicked around the area. “This whole car was wiped clean. Not just the inside. I’m thinking that the towel or rags may have been tossed away among the debris here.”

  Gale smiled, turned, and picked up a clear gallon-size zip lock evidence bag. Inside was a crumple
d hand towel. “I thought the same thing, Dr. Michaels. I found this in the corner.”

  She nodded with approval. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a cop. Maybe one with a little experience.”

  “Well, we’ll see if it gets us anywhere.”

  “You never can tell.” Her eyes went to the overgrown lot where the squad cars and support vehicles were parked. There, leaning against a fire truck, Detective Arnold Huston sipped coffee with an elderly man in dirty clothes.

  She nodded toward Huston. “What’s happening over there?”

  Roscoe shrugged. “Huston walked the neighborhood right after we got here and chatted up some of the locals. He found that homeless guy and brought him back here. Not sure what he’s finding out.”

  “Never mind that,” Gale said. “Where in the hell did they get coffee?”

  “There’s a dispenser in one of the hazmat vans,” Kendra said, still staring at Huston.

  Just then, Huston pointed in their direction and led the homeless man through the large opening. He introduced his new acquaintance to the group. “Friends, this is John Sheffield. He spends a lot of time in the neighborhood. I thought he might be kind enough to share anything he might have observed with us.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Kendra said. “We’re grateful for anything you can remember.

  Sheffield nodded in response. He was probably in his late fifties though he would have looked younger without the large gray beard that covered his face. Despite his dirty clothing, he looked and smelled clean, with no unpleasant odor that she might have expected from her first glance.

  Huston patted Sheffield’s arm. “Tell them what you told me. About what you saw here.”

  Sheffield seemed hesitant as he eyed the group converging around him.

  “It’s okay,” Huston said. “Go ahead.”

  Sheffield nodded, then spoke in a light rasp. “Well, things have been quiet here for a long time. A few years ago, people used to do drugs here, but the cops ran ’em off. I tried sleeping in here when it rained, but that really isn’t much of a roof. And I didn’t like the rats. Kinda freaked me out.”

  Kendra grimaced. “I didn’t care for them, either.”

  “But I cut through this lot a few times a week. It’s a shortcut to the next street. And a couple times lately I’ve seen a car pulled around back.”

  Kendra pointed to the Toyota behind them. “This car?”

  “Nah, it was a white one. Kinda boxy, with tinted windows.”

  “Any idea of the make or model?” Lynch said.

  Sheffield shook his head.

  “I’m going to take him to the office and show him some pictures,” Huston said.

  “I have the entire auto flipbook collection in my tablet,” Suber said. “We can go through it here.”

  “Good,” Huston said. “We’ll do that.” He turned back to Sheffield. “But first tell them about the boards.”

  Sheffield turned back to the open-ended hallway. “This has always been open, just like this. But around the same time I started seeing the car, I saw that it had been all boarded up.”

  “Sounds like it could be our guy,” Gale said. “Did you ever see anybody in that car or maybe getting in or out of it?”

  “Nah. It was just sitting over there behind the building. It couldn’t be seen from the street. But I never saw anybody around here.”

  By this time, Metcalf and Gina had joined the group. Kendra turned toward Metcalf. “Have you run ownership on this Toyota yet?”

  He produced his phone, which had only recently become his note-taking instrument of choice. “Yes. It belongs to a Lucinda Harris in San Ysidro. Reported stolen three days before Amanda Robinson was abducted.”

  “We already started working with local police on that,” Gina said. “Seeing if maybe neighbors have security cameras or if there are traffic cams in the area we can use to track it.”

  “Good,” Kendra said.

  “Not good,” Griffin said as he stepped through the opening. “Kendra and Lynch, you’re off this case.”

  Kendra turned toward him. “What?”

  “I just got a call from Sharp Memorial Hospital.” He added grimly, “They were displeased with your unexpected departure from their facility.”

  “That’s why you’re pulling us off the case?” Lynch said.

  “No, I’m pulling you off the case because it just might save your lives. You were exposed to a dangerous toxin, then given some medication that could cause some nasty side-effects. Your highly-skilled doctors want you both in the hospital overnight in case treatment is necessary.” He added sourly, “I believe this was explained to you?”

  Lynch shrugged. “When I cross-examined them on it, they admitted that the threat was miniscule. It was pretty clear they just wanted to make sure that we were available for Homeland Security when they came knocking in the morning.”

  And Kendra said impatiently, “Don’t be crazy. Lynch would never let anything bad happen to me. I vaguely remember somebody might have said something about that to—”

  “Hell yes, they did,” Griffin said curtly. “I don’t give a damn if Lynch wants to risk his own neck, but I’m responsible for bringing you on board. You’re not working this case until you’re discharged. Officially discharged.”

  “When will that be?” Kendra said.

  “Tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

  “Forget it.” As usual, Kendra was not pleased by Griffin’s arbitrary attitude. “I feel fine and it’s my decision what I will or will not do. I don’t take my orders from—”

  “Drop it, Kendra,” Lynch said. “We’ve been busted.”

  He held up his hand as she whirled on him. “Don’t attack me. I hate to admit it, but Griffin is right. As long as there was any threat at all, I had no right to persuade you to come back here to play with me and the rest of these guys. It just seemed better for you at the time.”

  “You didn’t persuade me. It was my decision.”

  “True. It’s always your decision. I was just an enabler. So is it okay if we go back and face the music? It would be my worst nightmare to have Griffin all smug and holier than thou if you happened to croak on me.”

  There was an element of seriousness beneath the lightness in his tone, she realized. She hesitated. “Oh, what the hell? I can’t imagine anything worse. Okay, I’ll save you if you promise to run interference for me with Homeland in the morning. I’m sure you have someone high up there in your pocket who could get us sprung quickly.”

  He smiled. “There’s a possibility.”

  “More than a possibility,” Griffin said. “Then it’s settled. I’ll have someone take you back there now.”

  “Not necessary,” Lynch said. “My ride’s still here.” He pointed to his Ferrari parked a few yards away. “Hopefully its finish hasn’t been ravaged by your wide-body emergency vehicles.”

  Kendra rolled her eyes. “Every time I start to think that you might be the tiniest bit reasonable and courageous, I remember what a wuss you are where this car is concerned.”

  “That car and I have been through a lot together.”

  “It’s a sad, sick affectation.”

  “It’s every man’s dream.”

  “I don’t believe that.” Kendra turned to the dream team. “That can’t be true, is it?”

  Each member of the dream team nodded without hesitation.

  Sheffield toasted Lynch with his coffee. “Pretty much.”

  She sighed. “Unbelievable. See you guys tomorrow.”

  She and Lynch walked back to his car. “Okay. Tell me … does that dream include paying $3,500 for cup holders?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw an article online that Ferrari charges over $3,500 for those rather ordinary carbon fiber cup holders of yours. I thought of you immediately.”

  “Good thoughts I’m sure.”

  “Don’t you wish.”

  “Hmm. I may have to take a closer look at
the factory invoice from now on. Would you like some coffee? It would be a shame to let these pricy cup holders go to waste.”

  “No thanks.”

  Lynch leaned down and swept his hand across the underside of his car. He pulled out a small magnetized box and showed it to Kendra.

  “You keep a spare key under your car? I’m sure no one would ever think to look there,” she said sarcastically.

  He slid a small black panel from the box and pressed his thumb against it. The car beeped with approval and unlocked.

  “Fingerprint reader,” he said. “It really cost only a little bit more than the cup holder. Nobody but me is getting in here.”

  They climbed in the car and Lynch started it. He slowly navigated past the personnel and vehicles on the site. He nodded toward the other investigators still gathered around the Toyota. “I have to say, I believe they’re starting to gel.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The dream team is finding a rhythm. And you’re part of it. You found the car, Detective Huston pounded the pavement until he found a witness, and that creepy kid sounds like he’s building a good profile. As afraid as Griffin was of too many cooks in the kitchen, I’ve found that when you get a group of extremely competent people together, good things can happen. They bend toward each other’s strengths, and if they’re lucky, they pull the best from each other.”

  “Sounds funny coming from such a notorious loner.”

  He smiled as they turned onto the street. “I’m capable of working with people when the situation demands it. I wouldn’t last very long if I couldn’t. And you pride yourself on being a loner yourself, but together you and I have kicked some serious ass over the last couple of years. I’m just saying it’s not bad we have these guys on the case. They’re the ones who know Zachary best.”

  Kendra settled back in the leather seat. “You may have a point there. And that creepy kid is sharp as a tack. Trey Suber … I’ll be interested in seeing in what else he comes up with…”

  “Me too.” Lynch gave her a sideways glance. “Are we really going back to the hospital now?”