“Dr. Michaels?”
She forced herself to look back. This was no time to fall apart, not when Waldridge might need her. She cleared her throat. “Was there luggage?”
“Yeah. In the closet. But we checked it, and he’d totally unpacked.”
“I’ll take a look anyway.”
Shea produced a pair of latex evidence gloves from his jacket pocket. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Kendra pulled on the gloves and moved to the open closet door. Hanging there were a pair of slacks, three shirts, and the jacket Waldridge had worn the previous night. His rolling suitcase was on the floor.
Kendra knelt beside it. A small blue-and-white tag was affixed to the handle, imprinted with the code L35. She angled the tag toward Shea. “Any idea what this means?”
“No. Only that it wasn’t put on here by a bellman. I asked.”
She dragged out the suitcase, unzipped it, and looked inside. As Shea had indicated, it was empty.
“Satisfied?” He crossed his arms, watching her.
“No.” She shoved the suitcase back into the closet, then stood up and walked into the bathroom. Waldridge’s toiletries were neatly arranged on a hand towel next to the sink, perfectly spaced with the same precision that Waldridge demonstrated in everything he said or did.
“A little OCD if you ask me,” Shea said.
“He’s a surgeon. It’s exactly what I’d expect.” She looked closer. “There was medication here. Did you or your officers take anything away?”
He gazed at her quizzically. “Medication? No.”
“There are two faint impressions on this hand towel. See?” She pointed to a pair of round indentions on the towel’s surface. “Most likely put there by low-to-medium-quantity prescription bottles. Did you find bottles this size here or in his car?”
Shea shook his head no.
“People steal meds, but since his wallet wasn’t touched, I doubt that’s what happened here.”
“It could be a good sign.”
“Yes. If someone did take him, it might mean that they wanted to keep him alive and well. You should check and see what his prescriptions are.”
He was already scribbling in his notebook. “I’m on it. Anything else?”
She looked around the bathroom for a moment longer. “That’s all in here.”
She followed Shea out of the bathroom. “I’ll check the drawers and under the bed, but that’s all I’ll probably—”
She froze.
He turned toward her. “What is it?”
“I just heard something.”
He gestured toward the window. “From outside?”
“No.” She looked down at the floor. “Could you please retrace your steps?”
“You’re kidding.”
“I don’t kid. It may be important.”
He stared at her in disbelief. “Okay. I’m trying to cooperate. Do you want me to retrace my steps since I got here this morning, or—”
“The last six steps you’ve taken.”
He shook his head and stepped backward. Kendra cocked her head and listened as he walked.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Squish.
“There.” She pointed down. “Did you hear that?”
He stopped and looked around. “Not really.”
“Sure you did,” she said impatiently. “You heard it, but you didn’t listen.” She knelt and pressed her gloved hand over the spot where he had just walked. “The carpet is damp here, all the way down to the pad. It squished a bit when you stepped on it. So unless one of your officers spilled something…”
“Your faith in my department is overwhelming. No spills.”
She sniffed the liquid on her glove. “This needs to be analyzed. It’s very faint, almost odorless. That’s why I didn’t pick up on it before.”
Shea rubbed his glove over the spot and sniffed it. “Unusual smell.”
She closed her eyes and tried to make some connection with the odor. “It’s a little tarry, a bit like citrus … But neither, really. I’m sure I’ve never smelled it before, whatever it is.”
Shea dropped a fluorescent yellow evidence tag on the spot. “I’ll get forensics back here to sop up a sample.”
“Thank you.”
Shea nodded. “Just doing my job. You surprised me. I like to be surprised. That FBI guy told me that you were born blind and you’d still probably be that way if it wasn’t for Waldridge.”
“That’s right.”
“In that case, I’d be doing everything in my power to help him, too.” He nodded thoughtfully. “He’s lucky to have you in his corner, Dr. Michaels.”
* * *
AFTER A QUICK ONCE-OVER in Waldridge’s rental car that turned up absolutely nothing, Kendra gave her card to Shea and walked out to her car on Second Street. She leaned against her car for a long moment.
What now?
Everyone involved would probably prefer that she just sit back and wait for a call.
Dammit, Waldridge deserved better than that. But with no clear sign that a crime had occurred, it would be days before the police treated the case with any kind of urgency.
By then, it could be too late. She had been uneasy as hell at what she’d seen at that crime scene. So what could she do to make sure Waldridge received the same single-minded dedication from her that he’d given her all those years ago? She knew the answer. She’d known it all along. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed help. She needed the big guns.
And she had one of the biggest guns of all on her speed dial.
CHAPTER
3
ADAM LYNCH PICKED HER CALL UP on the first ring. “What a complete pleasure. Though I knew you’d call sooner or later, Kendra. I’m glad it turned out to be sooner.”
Kendra gripped her steering wheel harder. It had been two and a half hours since she’d left the hotel, and she’d spent most of the drive wondering if she was really going to make this call.
“Lynch, your smugness is actually radiating through the phone.”
Lynch let out a laugh that boomed through her car speakers. “No smugness. Just happy to hear from you. Is that such a surprise? What’s going on?”
She hesitated. “Something’s come up. I can … use your help.”
He paused so long that she thought the connection had dropped. “Lynch?”
“I’m still here. I’m just a little stunned. I’m the one who always has to ask you for help. I’m not quite sure how to deal with this.”
She mouthed a silent curse. Lynch wasn’t going to make it easy for her. They both knew there wasn’t anything Lynch couldn’t handle and manipulate to suit himself. He was a former FBI agent who now worked freelance for whatever government agency needed his unique abilities. She had teamed with him a few times recently, and she was now violating her own pledge to put some distance between them.
“You’ll find a way to deal, Lynch. The question is, are you even in the country right now?”
“It so happens I am. I just got back from Madrid, and I’m sitting here thinking about unpacking. Do you want to meet somewhere?”
“How about your place?”
“Sure, but if you don’t feel like driving up here, we could always—”
“I’m looking at your house right now. You wanna open the gate for me?”
“Seriously?”
Kendra looked up at Lynch’s beautiful two-story Tudor-style home in an exclusive neighborhood in northern San Diego County. “Yes, I was driving back from Santa Monica and thought I’d give it a try. I just pulled up. Turn off the motion sensor weaponry and let me in, okay?”
As if in response, the tall iron gates silently swung open.
She cut the phone connection and drove up the stone-tiled driveway. As always, the landscaping was garden-club beautiful, and the house’s beveled-glass windows twinkled in the late-afternoon sun. She parked in front of the garage. As she climbed out, Lynch stepped out onto the driveway.
/>
“Miss me?” He hit her with his movie-star smile. He wore white cotton slacks and a blue shirt that brought out the intensity of his eyes. And, as usual, he was totally high-impact.
“Should I have?”
“I can but hope. Well, I’ve certainly missed you.”
She raised her brows.
“Stop being so skeptical. I think I’ve been very considerate giving you your space. But after all you’ve been through in the last year, you made it clear that you wanted to step back from the FBI, the police, and everything that reminded you of that part of your life.” He tapped his chest. “And that evidently included me.”
Not included. He was in a class by himself. Lynch managed to dominate both her thoughts and her responses when she was with him.
“Oh, I’m sure your bikini-model girlfriend kept you company.” Kendra looked up at the house. “Is she here now?”
“No. No, she’s not.”
Kendra studied him. Lynch had suddenly become guarded, which was totally out of character for him. “I see. Is there a story there?”
“Well … maybe. Ashley moved out of the country.”
Kendra’s eyes widened. “That’s quite a power over women you have. A few months with you, and they run screaming to distant lands.”
“Cute. She’s been working more and more in Europe, and it seemed whenever she was here, I was gone. Not a great recipe for a relationship. She lives in Rome now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugged. “We just spent the weekend together in Marbella while I was over there. We still know how to have a good time together.”
Kendra rolled her eyes. “You know, I was almost feeling sorry for you.”
His lips turned up at the corners. “Oh, I wouldn’t want you to do that.”
“You don’t deserve it. Ashley is the one I feel sorry for.”
“I’m sorry you never got to meet her. You would have liked her.”
“I admired the catalogue swimsuit spreads, but I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”
“It’s not. She’s very sweet.”
“Sweet.” She tasted the word. “Ah, I’m sure that was the attraction.”
He tilted his head. “Did you come here to bust my chops about my ex-girlfriend? Somehow I don’t think so.”
“No, as enjoyable as that would be, I want you to go with me to the FBI field office.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “That may have been the last thing I expected to hear you say.”
“Yeah.” She made a sour face. “Didn’t sound right to me, either.”
He motioned toward the front door. “Come inside. I need to hear about this.”
She joined him on the curving walkway and followed him inside his home. As he closed the tall door behind her, she glanced around the dark wood fixtures and tile floors. It wasn’t her style, but she felt herself oddly comforted by her surroundings. Some of the tension drained from her shoulders.
“You like it here.” He smiled. “This is one place you’ve always been able to relax.”
“I can relax lots of places.”
“Not like you can here. You know I’m right.”
He was right, she realized, even if she didn’t like to admit it. “It would be pretty sad if I needed retractable bulletproof shutters, motion sensors, and security cameras to relax.”
“Why? That’s why I built this place.”
“One of the drawbacks of being a government agent for hire. You’ve made a lot of enemies over the years.”
“And you haven’t?”
“My enemies are either dead or in prison.”
“Lucky you. Still, you have to admit it’s nice to have an impenetrable barrier between you and the outside world.”
“I can’t let myself feel that way.”
“You already have. And there’s nothing wrong with that, especially after the things you’ve been through. You deserve some peace.”
Peace.
Kendra looked away. She wanted peace, but it wasn’t in the cards for her right now. Not while Waldridge might be in trouble.
“But that’s not happening with you.” Lynch’s gaze was searching her face. He leaned closer. “So I think you’d better tell me about it.”
She hesitated. This was why she had come, wasn’t it? But if she drew Lynch into this, it would be a commitment. A commitment she’d been avoiding for months. Because she never knew where that commitment would lead.
He was looking into her eyes. He said softly, “Tell me.”
Do it, before she changed her mind. She quickly told him about Waldridge, his cryptic statements, and his disappearance.
After she was done, Lynch placed his hands on her upper arms. “See that wasn’t so bad, was it? Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”
“Good.” She stepped back and slid out of her jacket.
Lynch’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. By all means, get comfortable.”
She gave him a squelching glance and showed him the jacket sleeve. “There was liquid on the floor of Waldridge’s hotel room. Something I couldn’t place. I sopped up some on my sleeve.”
“Did you tell the cops on the scene?”
“Yes, and they promised to run it by their crime lab. But I don’t think—”
“You don’t think they’ll give it high priority,” he finished for her. “And you’re probably right.”
She held up the jacket sleeve. “I want to take this to the FBI lab and have it tested there.”
“I’m surprised you’re not there now. Griffin would jump at the chance to get you back in the position of owing him.”
“He already thinks I owe him one for getting me in that crime scene to begin with. And I don’t want this to get lost in the crime-lab in-box. I want priority.”
“Priority over every active FBI investigation?”
“Exactly. I want it done today.”
He chuckled. “Of course you do. And you think I can make that happen?”
“I know you can. I’ve seen how fast things happen when you decide to send a text or two to D.C.”
“I’ve spent years building currency there. Currency that can evaporate if I tap it too much.”
“You’re the go-to guy for people at every government agency. You replenish your currency with each assignment you do for them.”
“Only if I’m successful.”
“Which you always are.”
“Almost always. That’s a big distinction. One that can sometimes mean the difference between life and death.”
“Are you trying to impress me? Because as much as bikini-model Ashley may swoon when you talk like that—”
“No, I wasn’t trying to impress you.” He thought for a second. “Well, maybe a little.”
“Another day I might have been impressed. A little. But right now, I’m just worried sick about my friend. I owe him, Lynch.”
Lynch nodded. “I know. Which is why I’m willing to spend every bit of professional capital I have to help you. Now that should both dazzle and impress you. Okay? We’ll leave right now.” He walked her toward the garage. “I’ll drive.”
Kendra stopped in front of a large painting in the hallway. It was a striking portrait of her, one that she and Lynch had actually watched being painted by a suspect in a previous case. Her eyes were closed in the painting, and her lips were slightly curled in a serene smile.
Kendra nodded toward the painting. “Maybe this is why Ashley left. Most women aren’t cool with their boyfriends’ decorating their houses with pictures of other women.”
“Ashley loved this painting. She joked about taking it with her.”
“So she could burn it?”
“No. She looked at it a lot. To her, it looked like you were enjoying something that only you could see.”
“Even though my eyes are closed?”
“Maybe because your eyes are closed. It was very perceptive of her, I thought. I had the exact same impression. I couldn’t get it
out of my head after you and I saw it being done. That’s why I had to go back and buy it.”
“I still think you got taken.”
“No, I didn’t,” he said softly.
She turned to face him.
Lynch was looking at her, not the painting.
And she found she was caught and couldn’t tear her gaze away.
After a long moment, he gestured toward the garage door. “Shall we?”
Release.
She nodded. “By all means.” She hurriedly followed him to the garage.
FBI Regional Field Office San Diego
They made record time to the FBI’s gleaming, glass-fronted building in Sorrento Valley, home to much of San Diego’s high-tech industry. They rode in Lynch’s Ferrari, and for once Kendra resisted the urge to tease Lynch about his expensive, overcompensating-for-something wheels.
Her gesture didn’t go unnoticed. “No snide remarks about the car?” he said as he parked. “Now I know you’re upset. Either that, or you’ve finally learned to respect my ride.”
“There’s also the third option.”
“And that is?”
“I’m grateful for what you’re doing for me. So you get a onetime pass.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“Although … the way you were stroking that gearstick makes me a little uncomfortable. It’s really kind of disturbing. I know you have feelings for this car, but should I leave you two alone for a little while?”
Lynch shook his head. “That’s the Kendra I know. The world still spins on its axis. So much for the free pass.”
“You got a pass by my not mentioning the two women you’ve had in this car in the past week. Young women, probably midtwenties. You liked one of them, the Latina woman, well enough to bring her back to your house.”
He shook his head. “Okay, I definitely need to know how you knew that.”
“Later.” She opened the door. “We have work to do.”
* * *
SPECIAL AGENT IN CHARGE MICHAEL GRIFFIN stood in the corridor outside the FBI crime lab, staring at the jacket in Kendra’s outstretched hand. “You’re kidding, right?”
“That’s what that LAPD detective asked. I thought you’d know better.” She shoved the jacket toward him. “It’s on the left sleeve. It could mean nothing or everything, but we won’t know until it’s tested.”
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