“Believe me, I would have been ecstatic to be one of his successes.” The wind from the bay blew Olivia’s long brown hair up and around, gently caressing her beautiful, olive-toned face. Never once had she expressed a single iota of jealousy over Kendra’s amazing transformation, but she did harbor hopes of one day regaining the eyesight that had been taken from her.
“He really did want to help you,” Kendra said gently.
“I know. He’s a good man.” She smiled. “You know, the way you always talked about him, I’m surprised nothing ever happened between the two of you.”
Kendra’s eyes widened. “What? You mean in a romantic sense?”
“Why not?”
“There’s twenty years and eight thousand miles between us. I never thought about him that way.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Kendra found her tone getting defensive.
“The twenty years wouldn’t have bothered me,” Olivia said. “Mature men are more experienced, and that makes them sexier. The eight thousand miles are an obstacle that can melt away in a heartbeat. Did you ever hear about jet planes?”
“I’ve never described Waldridge as sexy to you.”
“I’ve heard you describe him as brilliant at least a hundred times. And refer to him as good-looking on at least half a dozen occasions. I know you, Kendra. The intelligence alone is a big draw for you. Put those two descriptions together, and you come up with sexy.”
“He is good-looking. It doesn’t mean I want to jump him. And it doesn’t take a schoolgirl crush to know that he’s a brilliant guy.”
“Of course. It’s just a vibe you put off.”
“No vibe. The man changed my life in a profound way, so naturally I’m going to feel a certain amount of…”
“Awe?”
Trust Olivia to zero in and strike home. How could Kendra help but feel a certain amount of hero worship toward Waldridge, who had not only given her a fantastic gift, but had been the only man in that first year to teach her, work with her, and chase away all the fear and uncertainty. Even Olivia would never realize what he had meant to her during that time. So don’t try to explain the unexplainable. “I was going to say gratitude.”
“Well, I’d sure feel awe.” Olivia felt the face of her Bradley touch-capable wristwatch. “We should start back. I have Reddit online chat in less than an hour.”
Olivia’s online Web destination, Outasite, featured articles, interviews, and product reviews, all geared to a vision-impaired audience who accessed the content via audio-reader software. Outasite had quickly become a very successful business for Olivia, and she spent many of her waking hours generating material for the site.
“Okay,” Kendra said. She looked down the sidewalk. “Clear!”
She had developed a verbal shorthand for guiding Olivia through a variety of terrain and conditions on their frequent runs together.
“Side!”
Olivia ran beside her as they continued their conversation.
“Will you see him again before he leaves?” Olivia asked.
“That may be up to him. I tried to call his cell phone this morning, but he didn’t answer.”
“Try him again.”
“I will.” She had no intention of letting Waldridge fly out of her life again and leave her with this feeling of uneasiness. He’d had a reason for contacting her yesterday, then had backed away. She couldn’t just let it go. “As soon as we get back.”
They ran through the Gaslamp District and cut down Fifth toward the five-story building that housed both of their condominiums. But as they neared the building, Kendra saw a police car double-parked outside with flashers on.
“What the hell?” she murmured.
Two uniformed officers stood on the sidewalk. One of them turned toward Kendra as she put her key in the front door. “Dr. Michaels?”
“Police,” she said to Olivia. She looked from one officer to the other. “You’re here for me?”
“Yes. Lieutenant Ortiz would like to see you at the station.”
“I’m not doing police consulting work right now. He usually calls me.”
“He did. There was no answer.”
“I never bring my phone with me when I run.” She stared at him quizzically. “So he sent a squad car to lasso me in?”
“He was concerned for your safety.”
“My safety? Why would he—?” Her brow furrowed. “What’s this about?”
“If you’ll come with us, Lieutenant Ortiz will—”
“Tell me now,” she said flatly. “Or I’m not going anywhere.”
The cop sighed and glanced at his partner before turning back. “Do you know a Dr. Charles Waldridge?”
Kendra felt herself tense. “Of course I do. What’s happened?”
“He’s missing under suspicious circumstances. And you may have been the last person to see him.”
* * *
“DR. MICHAELS, GLAD you could join us.”
Lieutenant Mark Ortiz entered the police-headquarters lobby and gestured toward the detective walking a few paces behind. “Detective Vince Halderman, Kendra Michaels.”
Halderman nodded his greeting, but Kendra ignored him and launched immediately into attack mode. “What happened to Charles Waldridge?”
“We were hoping you could help us with that. When was the last time you saw him?”
“We had dinner together last night. At Geoffrey’s, in Malibu. We left around 8 P.M., each in our own cars. So what’s the story?”
“Be patient. I have a few more questions.”
“No. I answer some, then you answer some. That’s how this will work. What happened to him?”
Ortiz turned toward his partner with a pained expression that Kendra knew she’d given a lot of other cops in her time. Then he turned back to her. “Dr. Michaels, I’m afraid the answer is that we don’t know. He was staying at the Huntley Hotel in Santa Monica. There was some kind of disturbance in his room, a lot of noise. Other guests complained, but by the time security arrived, no one was in the room. The lamp was broken, and the television screen was shattered. But all of Waldridge’s belongings, including his phone and wallet, were still there.”
Not good. Kendra cursed under her breath. What have you gotten yourself into, Charles?
“You were in a relationship with him?”
Kendra shook her head. First Olivia, now this clown. But she knew that the detective was merely fishing, straight out of the cop playbook.
“No, we’re good friends. We’ve known each other a long time. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and he met me at Pepperdine, where I was presenting at an academic conference, and we had dinner afterward.” She went on the attack. “How did you know I had any connection with him?”
“He had your Pepperdine seminar page still up on his laptop, and we found your name and number in his telephone address book. Google told me a bit more about your medical history together.”
She raised her eyebrows in approval. “Wow. Good cop.”
“Now it’s my turn. He was a long way from home. What brought him to California?”
“He was fund-raising for a project. He’s a research scientist.”
The detectives shared a quick glance.
Kendra caught that look of doubt between them. “Now what?”
“We’ve been in touch with his colleagues in England,” Halderman said. “They didn’t even know he’d left the country. They had no idea why he would have come here.”
Kendra let that sink in for a moment. “Are you absolutely certain?”
Ortiz nodded. “As far as they knew, he was just taking a few personal days. What did he say to you?”
“Just what I said. He told me he was raising money for a medical-research project.”
“And yet none of his colleagues knew anything about it.”
“It doesn’t sound right to me, either. But a lot of what he said didn’t sound right.”
“Like what?”
&n
bsp; Kendra told them about Waldridge’s evasiveness, general uneasiness, and cryptic statement about wanting to protect her.
Ortiz jotted down some notes in a notebook as she spoke. He glanced up. “Protect you? Were you under the impression that he felt he was in any kind of physical danger?”
“No, I didn’t get that vibe from him. I’m not sure what he meant, and he wasn’t in any mood to explain himself. I was planning to call him today.”
“And you had no idea what he was working on?”
“No.” She leaned back in her chair, wishing desperately that she’d pressed Waldridge to talk to her. Then maybe whatever mess he’d managed to get himself into wouldn’t have escalated to this degree.
Ortiz pushed a legal pad across the table. “We need a list of Dr. Waldridge’s friends and associates in the area.”
Kendra pushed the pad back. “There’s only one. Me. At least, as far as I know. Waldridge doesn’t like California. It’s too laid-back for him. The few times he’s come here since I’ve known him, he did his business and got away as quickly as he could. There may be some professional contacts here, but you’d have to ask his colleagues about that.”
“We have. They said you were the only one.”
“Well, there you go. Have you been to Waldridge’s hotel room yourself?”
“No. Santa Monica PD is working the scene.”
“Don’t let them break it down. I’m going down there right now.”
Halderman scowled. “Why? You think you’ll see something all those cops missed?”
Ortiz shrugged. “Actually … she might. I’ll tell you about Dr. Michaels later.” He turned back to her, and offered, “I can make a call.”
Kendra stood. “Thanks, Ortiz. It might make things easier when I get there.”
“You’re not even going to wait and see if they’re willing to let you in?”
“I’ll keep my phone on while I’m driving down. Let me know what they say.” She was heading for the door. “But, one way or another, I’m going to take a look at that room.”
* * *
SHE DIDN’T WAIT TO HEAR from Ortiz whether he’d been able to get her into the crime scene. She decided it was time to take out insurance.
Before she was even on the I-5 freeway, Kendra voice-dialed a number she hadn’t called in months. She had hoped it would be a good while longer. After hurdling the jittery receptionist, she was finally patched through.
“Special Agent Griffin.”
“Hello, Griffin.”
“Kendra, will you please go easy on my assistant,” he said testily. “She’s already terrified of you for telling her that her sister married a guy just so he could get a green card.”
“Did she disagree? Call me a liar?”
“She’s not talking, and to tell you the truth, I don’t want to know anything more about it.”
“Then tell your assistant she should remove the photo in the lower-right side of her cubicle. I’ll leave it at that.”
“The lower-right side…?” His voice trailed off. “Never mind. Surely you have something more pertinent to talk to me about.”
“I’m on my way to Santa Monica. It’s a case the FBI may have some interest in.”
He paused for a long moment. “Okaay … In that case, perhaps you should be talking to the Bureau’s Los Angeles office.”
“Not yet. It’s about someone I know, Griffin.” She told him about Waldridge and his disappearance.
Griffin clicked his tongue. “So what do you want from me?”
“Access. I want to get in there and look around.”
“And you want me to grease the wheels for you.”
“Yes. Tell them I’m a consultant.”
“But you’re not. At least not on this case.”
“Not yet.”
Silence. “Does that mean you’re ready to come back and do some more work for us?”
Kendra had known this was coming. “Do this for me, and we’ll talk about it. I have to get in that room, Griffin.”
“Believe it or not, most big-city police departments employ very competent investigators. Is there anything that leads you to believe they’re not doing their jobs?”
“No. But they can always use an extra set of eyes.”
“Especially yours?”
“Yes. That’s what you always told me when you wanted my help.”
“But Santa Monica PD hasn’t asked for your help. Or the FBI’s help.”
Griffin was playing with her, trying to manipulate her as he usually did. He hadn’t liked it that she had opted to stay away from the Bureau this long. Put up with it. She needed him at the moment. “Waldridge isn’t just a British citizen. He’s an internationally renowned medical researcher. We may want to get a head start on this.”
“So now it’s ‘we.’ I know this doctor means something to you, Kendra, but you—”
“Then make the call. Get me in there.”
Griffin sighed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. The Huntley Hotel?”
“Yes. Thanks, Griffin.”
“Don’t thank me yet. And if I do get you in there, do me a favor and don’t treat them like they’re total idiots. Okay?”
“But what if they are total idiots?”
“Keep it to yourself.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s not very comforting. Good-bye, Kendra.”
* * *
DESPITE A TRAFFIC SNARL-UP in Irvine, Kendra reached the Huntley Hotel in less than two hours. She stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor and immediately spotted a uniformed officer at the end of the corridor. As she walked toward him, he quickly sprang into intercept mode.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll have to ask you to—”
“It’s okay, Officer,” a voice called from the end of the hall. “Let her through.”
Kendra looked up to see a stocky detective with close-cropped blond hair and a bright red face. It wasn’t a sunburn, she decided. He was probably just of Irish descent.
She extended her hand. “I’m Kendra Michaels.”
“Tommy Shea, Santa Monica PD.” He shook her hand. “In the past couple hours, I’ve heard from both the FBI and the San Diego PD about you, Dr. Michaels. They seemed to think it was extremely important that you take a look at this crime scene.”
“I appreciate it.”
“I’m the one who helped piece together your connection with Waldridge. After I couldn’t get hold of you, just to be safe, I called San Diego PD and had them make contact.”
“Which they did. That’ll teach me to go running without my phone. Have you found anyone who might have seen him after I did last night?”
“He popped up on security cams in the lobby and parking garage around 9 P.M. After that … nothing.”
“That’s strange. No sign of him leaving?”
“No. And no sign of anyone suspicious around him. I looked at the video myself.”
“Is his rental car still here?”
“Yes, but it doesn’t appear to have been disturbed. The keys were in the room next to his wallet and phone. We’re having it towed in.”
She glanced inside the room. “You’re not about to break the scene down, are you?”
“Actually, we are. We’ve got what we needed. Fingerprints, photos…”
“DNA?” she asked.
“They took a few swabs, but you probably know what disgusting Petri dishes hotel rooms are.”
She grimaced as she recalled the few times she’d seen a hotel-room comforter illuminated by a UV light. “Gotcha.”
“Besides, we’re not even sure there was a crime committed here. Except maybe a little property damage. So if you want to take a look, knock yourself out. But after that, we’re packing up his belongings, and the hotel will send up their handyman to get the place back in circulation. There might be someone else in that bed tonight.”
“Great. Well, guess I better get to it before someone else obliterates whatever evidence might
be left.”
Shea smiled and shook his head. “Naturally, you’re assuming there’s evidence we’ve missed. Detective Ortiz told me about you.”
“And still you’re letting me in.”
He gestured toward the open door. “Chalk it up to curiosity.”
“Anything that gets me inside.”
“Knock yourself out.”
She entered and stopped short inside the door. One side of the room looked as if Waldridge had merely stepped out for a bucket of ice, with his wallet, rental-car keys, and hotel-parking-garage ticket on an end table next to the unmade bed.
The other side, however, was a mess. The flat-screen TV was shattered, with weblike cracks emanating from the center. Fresh dings played over the pressed-wood white chest of drawers below, obviously struck by the overturned chair. Kendra looked at the desk, where the smashed phone had been knocked on the floor and a long ethernet cable had been stretched taut, halfway to the bed.
Kendra felt a sickening chill as she looked at the cord. “This cable was used as a weapon.”
Shea crossed his arms. “What makes you say that?”
“It’s pinched in two places about two feet apart, as if it had been gripped and wrapped around a pair of hands. Then it was stretched. Just the way it would look if had been used to…” Her voice trailed off.
“Strangle someone?” Shea finished.
Hearing him say it was like getting a punch to the gut. “Yes,” she whispered.
“For the record, I saw it the same way. I’ve already had it swabbed.”
“It probably won’t help. Whoever handled it was using gloves.”
Shea glanced back at the cable. “How do you figure that?”
“That cable has a soft sheaf. Soft enough to show ridges on the spots where it was gripped. Ridges from hard rubber grips on a pair of gloves. With some time, your forensic people might be able to tell you the brand of gloves. It’s worth a shot.”
Shea nodded, looking closer at the cable. “That I didn’t see. Not that it makes a lot of difference. Hundreds of people probably pawed that cable in the past few weeks. In any case, I’ll be bagging it and sending it to the lab.”
Kendra turned away. She didn’t want to look at that cable any longer. She was having trouble keeping from shaking. What in hell happened here, Waldridge?
Night Watch--A Novel Page 3
