Текст книги "Sight Unseen "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

“Wait.” He hurried to catch up with her. “I expected to have at least another ten minutes or so helping to bolster and raise your spirits. What a disappointment.”

“You’ll recover.” She paused, then said, “You did bolster me. I … wasn’t myself. Thank you, Lynch.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled. “You’re very, very welcome. But I prefer you to be the Kendra I know. That other ‘self’ scared the hell out of me.”

“Me, too.” She looked away and her pace quickened. “Me, too, Lynch.”

San Quentin State Penitentiary

East Gate

BOBBY CHATSWORTH SHOVED THE MICROPHONE into the protestor’s face. “Tell us why you’re here. Why this inmate, why this prison?”

The young woman with the poster froze. Dammit, she looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Lily Holt shook her head. She and Bobby had just taped one of the most riveting interviews in British television history, but Bobby was insisting on grabbing a few more lame sound bites from the crowd outside. Oh, well. It was his show. She was only the producer.

The protestor nervously stumbled through her anti-death-penalty tirade, missing every opportunity to make a cogent point. When she finished, Bobby thanked her and stepped away with his camera operator and soundman.

“That was terrible,” Lily said quietly. “Why did you choose her?”

Bobby smiled impishly. “Are you joking? That was brilliant.”

“No. Your interview with Colby was brilliant. I still have goose bumps. There was one moment there I might have actually peed myself a little. But that woman was rubbish.”

“Could you ask for a better counterpoint? The intelligent articulate condemned man juxtaposed with the all-heart-no-brains do-gooder? See what I’m going for?”

Lily nodded. She didn’t like it, but she got it.

Bobby Chatsworth had made a name for himself as an “activist reporter” on a second-tier satellite news network in the UK, and his extreme positions gave him an engaged audience both on his network berth and video-streaming sites. His red beard, bushy eyebrows, and trademark round spectacles made him ripe for parody on comedy shows and political cartoons, but that only served to grow his audience. He’d recently been advocating the return of the death penalty in England, and in Eric Colby, he had found a terrifying poster boy for his cause.

“I get it,” Lily said. “Anybody who’s against the death penalty must appear to be a total idiot.”

Chatsworth smiled. “But on my show, they are total idiots. Got it?”

“Of course. No sense in examining issues from more than one perspective.”

“It sounds as if you’d prefer to work at a television station back in, oh, 1965.”

“If you know of any openings there, let me know. Until then, I’ll keep carrying your sorry bum.”

He laughed. “That’s my girl. I can always count—” He stopped, looking behind her.

Lily turned to see what had grabbed his attention. A van passed a security checkpoint and emerged from the prison, prompting the protestors to wave their signs and shout their positions with renewed vigor.

“Get that van,” Bobby shouted to the cameraman. “Hurry!”

The van rolled by just as the cameraman lifted his rig and zoomed in on the passenger compartment.

Chatsworth gave a low whistle. “Would you look at that…”

“What am I supposed to be looking at?” the cameraman asked.

Chatsworth watched the van move past the protestors and turn at the intersection. He turned back to Lily. “Believe it or not, Kendra Michaels was in there.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.” He handed the microphone to the soundman. “That guard said we had to cut the interview short because Colby had some important visitors. Apparently, she was one of them.”

“Why would Kendra Michaels want to see him?” Lily asked. “To share a pint and relive fond old memories?”

“Hmm. Don’t know. But we really need to interview her. It’s like a gigantic hole in my show.”

“She was on our list, but she didn’t even return my e-mails. She never comments on her investigations.”

“I’ve heard that…” Chatsworth thought for a moment. “What if we offer something in return? Something that might be of use to her?”

“And what exactly might that be?”

He smiled. “I think we may already have it.”

*   *   *

DON’T THINK ABOUT COLBY NOW, Kendra told herself, as she boarded the flight back to San Diego. She had to overcome the emotion and separate it from logic. It was the only way she could come to any reasonable conclusions.

“Want to talk?” Lynch asked as he watched her buckle her seat belt.

She shook her head. “There’s been enough talk. Too much. I just want to rest and close everyone away from me.”

He nodded. “I’ll try to keep Griffin and the rest off you.” He made his way down the aisle.

Evidently he succeeded because Kendra spent much of the trip home lost in her thoughts, trying her best not to mentally replay her conversation with Colby. Lynch and the FBI agents spent most of the short plane flight tapping out memos on their laptops and passing around pages from documentation provided by the warden. She knew that there would be a complete copy of the file in her e-mail in-box the next morning, and she’d be better able to focus on it then.

They landed at the San Diego airport at eight thirty. After a few mumbled good-byes between her and the other agents, Griffin pulled her aside.

“Look, I’m sorry about the way things went down at the prison. I shouldn’t have asked you to join us.”

Her brows rose in surprise. “I’m touched.” She paused. “You were right to ask.”

He blinked at the response. “Your first reaction was that you didn’t want to go.”

“Damn right. But I thought about it and realized it had to be done.” She looked him in the eye. “So it was my decision. Everything that happened was my responsibility, not yours.”

“That’s very … generous.” He started to turn away, then looked back at her. “I can see how a guy like that can get inside your head, especially with your history with him. I know it took a lot for you to go there. Thank you.”

She nodded. “Good night, Griffin. See you tomorrow.”

Griffin walked away.

“I’m amazed,” Lynch said from behind her. “That’s not a guy who usually makes apologies.”

“Well, it doesn’t come easily to him. His teeth were practically clenched for the entire conversation.”

“Baby steps, Kendra. Baby steps.” Lynch motioned toward the terminal exit. “This way. I’m taking you home.”

She frowned. “Since when?”

“Since I remembered that you didn’t bring your car here. How did you think you were getting back to your place?”

“Cab.”

“Nope. Anyway, there are a few little things I want to go over with the security detail outside your condo. Let’s go.”

After the quick ride home, Kendra was surprised at what Lynch considered “little things” he wanted to discuss with her security guard.

“Nelson, until you hear otherwise, your services will no longer be needed,” Lynch said to Agent Nelson the moment he reached him.

“What?” Nelson and Kendra said in unison.

“Thank you for your service,” Lynch said. “You’ve done a fine job.”

Nelson was obviously blindsided. “Uh, I’ll need authorization from Griffin for this.”

“Then get it. Or don’t get it. Whatever. In any case, Kendra won’t be here.”

“And just what makes you think that?” she asked.

“Colby. You wouldn’t let me in the room with the two of you, but that was good. From behind the glass, I was able to watch the two of you as if you were on a movie screen. Every expression, every nuance. His promise of making you suffer was all the inspiration I needed.”

“Your inspiration, not mine. I don’t recall any discussion about my leaving my home.”

“That’s because there wasn’t any. I just thought of it a little while ago.” Lynch opened the door and walked with her into the condo and closed the door on Agent Nelson’s troubled face. “Go pack a suitcase. Bring enough for at least a few days.”

“Wait. Hold it. Where am I going?”

“The safest place I know.”

“Where’s that?”

“My house.”

“Like hell.”

“Trust me, there’s no place safer. The house was designed from the ground up to withstand almost any kind of assault. It’s the best place for you right now.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “Your house is designed to withstand an assault? I knew you had a habit of making enemies, but seriously…”

“I’m being very serious. But you’ll never know that you’re in an impenetrable fortress. You’ll be staying in a nice, cozy guest room. It’s very comfortable. More to the point, it will throw off any plans that Colby and his psychopathic friend might have for you. It’s a contingency they wouldn’t have planned for.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Well, you sure didn’t plan for it.”

Kendra thought for a moment. “I can’t argue with that.”

“You can’t do anything predictable. That means you don’t stay with friends or family.”

“A hotel?”

“Not safe enough. Too many people coming and going. At my place, you’ll have me and the house defending you.” He grinned. “You’ll be impressed. We’re a formidable team.”

“I have no doubt.” She made a face. “But I value my privacy, dammit.”

“More than you value your life?”

She hesitated, and he took the opportunity to nudge her toward the condo’s back hallway.

“Start packing. It’s safer for you and safer for the people you care about. I’ll wait in your living room and take the call from Griffin that’s surely on the way.”

At that moment, the phone vibrated in his pocket.

Lynch smiled. “Right on cue.” He pointed to the hallway. “Pack.”

CHAPTER

9

FORTY MINUTES LATER, Kendra found herself in Lynch’s car exiting I-5 toward Carmel Valley Road.

She turned toward him. “I thought you lived in Riverside.”

“I did. I just moved here about eight months ago. This place took over two years to complete.”

“I guess that’s what you get when you build a fortress in suburbia.”

“Building a fortress is easy. The trick is to make it not look like a fortress.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“I didn’t talk you into anything. You can’t be talked into doing anything you don’t really want to do. Just like Griffin didn’t really talk you into traveling to San Quentin. As you said, deep down, you know what needs to be done. You know you’ll be safer here than at your place.”

“I’ve seen you work your Puppetmaster routine on a lot of people, Lynch. First you identify their buttons, then you press them. You found my button.”

“Which is?”

“Logic. Common sense.”

He chuckled. “There are worse weaknesses.” He glanced at her. “But that wasn’t the button I pushed. I slipped in one sentence that tilted everything my way.”

“What?”

“I told you it would be safer for the people you care about.”

She stared at him thoughtfully. “Mind and emotion. You’re very, very intimidating.”

“Why do you think I need a fortress?” He didn’t wait for an answer but gestured up ahead. “It’s to the right, around that bend.”

A few minutes later, they approached a large gated home at the end of a row of luxury estates.

Kendra’s eyes widened. “Impressive. You bought this on a government salary?”

“No. When I was with the FBI, my place was considerably more modest. My agent-for-hire income allows for a much grander lifestyle.”

“Obviously. This is what, ten thousand square feet?”

“Oh, not that much.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Nine.”

She shook her head. “Aw, man. You didn’t tell me I’d be slumming it.”

“You’ll just have to suffer.” Lynch pressed a remote on his sun visor, and the electronic gate swung open. His house was a classic Tudor, surrounded by an eight-foot wall. Although it was night, artfully placed outdoor lighting showcased the landscaping and intricate stonework on the structure’s face.

Kendra pointed up toward the house. “You’re not worried about someone’s just breaking in through a window?”

“No. At the first sign of a perimeter breach on the property, steel shutters drop down over each and every one. They’re built into the walls.”

She glanced at his face, then said slowly, “You’re not joking.”

“No, I promised you a fortress, didn’t I? You were right about one thing. I’ve made a lot of enemies in my time. Everyone from crime bosses to gunrunners and terrorists. Most of them I take care of before the job is done, but there are always a few who linger in the shadows … waiting. I can never be sure when they’ll strike.” He shrugged. “So I like having a place where I can come back and relax. Out there on the street, I may have to be on guard. Not here.” He parked the car in the garage, and the door automatically closed behind them. He leaned close to her and spoke softly. “I hope I can give you the same peace of mind.”

Heat.

Sexuality.

Intimacy.

She looked away and tried to say carelessly, “You’re off to a very good start.”

“I’m glad you think so.” His face was only inches away from hers, close enough for her to feel the warmth, the vitality. A few minutes before, she had been thinking that Lynch was right, that she could relax here. He knew what she needed almost before she knew it herself. But she was not at all relaxed right now. Every muscle was tense, and her heart was pounding hard.

Don’t let him see it.

She gripped the door handle. “Give me a tour?”

He studied her expression for an instant. “Sure.”

They pulled Kendra’s suitcase from the trunk and moved toward the door. Lynch raised a fob and pressed it to throw the lock.

He showed her the fob. “The code changes every seven seconds. This fob and the door-lock codes stay in perfect synchronization.” He gripped the doorknob, then froze. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

“Nothing serious,” he said, sensing the tension in her voice. “I just remembered something.”

“Remembered what?” Adam Lynch was actually looking sheepish, she realized with wonder. She hadn’t been aware he was even capable of that expression.

“Look,” he said. “You’re going to see something kind of unusual in my living room. Promise not to judge, okay?”

She smiled with anticipation. “I’ll promise nothing of the sort. What is it?”

“Damn. I can’t believe this. Okay.” He pushed open the front door.

Kendra entered the house. The place was still dark except for a few accent lights. At first, she was impressed by the modernistic furniture, travertine floor tile, and black galaxy granite countertops.

Then she saw it.

She stopped short, eyes widening. “Oh, my God.”

In the large living room, one single windowless wall was covered by a twenty-foot-long enlarged print of his latest girlfriend’s bus ad. Beautiful bikini-clad Ashley overwhelmed the room.

“Uh … Wow,” was all Kendra could say.

“Yeah.”

“Why…?”

Lynch was looking more sheepish than ever. “A couple weeks ago, I came back from a trip out of the country and … there she was on my doorstep with that poster, several movers, and an interior decorator. She whisked them inside, and an hour later, it was done.”

“She had this wall-sized picture of herself made for you?”

“This was actually hanging from the ceiling at the campaign’s launch party. She asked for it and had it mounted and framed for me.” His expression was baffled as he stared at the poster. “I guess she thought … it should occupy an entire wall in my home?”

Kendra started laughing and found she couldn’t stop. She pointed to a row of eyeball-recessed light fixtures aimed at the print. “Did she have the spotlights put in, too?”

“No, those were there already. They were installed to showcase a collection of my favorite paintings in all the world. Paintings, by the way, that the movers relegated to a hall closet.”

Kendra laughed even harder.

“What can I do?” Lynch said. “She’s very proud of this. She took a lot of time planning it. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“You’re so damn tough. Yet you can’t say no to a bikini model?”

“I could say no, but I have to work my way around to doing it humanely. She thinks most guys just want to screw her.” He frowned ruefully. “Okay, that may be one of my prime objectives. But she’s decent and likeable, and I don’t want her to think that’s all she is to me. We have enough problems understanding each other’s point of view. She honestly thought this was a terrific gift.”

“I’m sure she did.” Kendra struggled to catch her breath. “Hey, if I had a body like that, I’d give out wall-sized pictures of myself, too.”

“You have a fantastic body. And no, I don’t think you would do that.”

“I agree it’s not very subtle. But at one time I might have yielded to the temptation.” Kendra realized she was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down her cheeks. She wiped them away. “Oh, that felt good. I needed that, especially after the day I’ve had today.”

“Glad I could be of service.” He grimaced. “Now, if you’re through enjoying your laugh at my expense, I’ll show you your room.”

“I can hardly wait.” She followed him up the stairs. “But nothing could impress me more than beautiful Ashley.”

“You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

“No way. Unless you can offer me something to make it worth my while.”

He slanted a look over his shoulder. “Oh, I could do that. Just give the word.”

She lost her breath as she met his gaze. Dammit, being with Lynch was like riding a seesaw that pitched and changed with every second. “Forget it. It’s much more amusing to laugh at your vulnerabilities, Lynch.”

“Is it? Do you realize that displaying my vulnerability might have been planned? It’s a prime tactic to disarm.” He opened a door. “Did I disarm you, Kendra?”

Had he planned it? She didn’t know, and she wouldn’t think about it right now. “What do you think?” She glanced away from him and looked at the guest room. “This is very nice.”

True to Lynch’s word, the guest room was large and comfortable, centered by a four-poster bed and half a dozen overstuffed pillows.

He handed her a touch-screen remote. “Pretty much every song ever recorded is at your fingertips. You select your tunes here, and the sound comes out of the ceiling speakers. In case you’d like to listen to music as you fall asleep.”

Kendra looked at the remote and smiled. He knew how important music was to her. It was medicine not only for her clients, but for herself. Music had helped her through some of the most difficult times of her life, bringing life and color when there was literally only darkness.

“Thanks, but I doubt I will. I get too interested in the music, and it keeps me awake.”

He pointed toward a side door. “There’s an adjoining bathroom, and you’ll probably find any toiletry you didn’t bring with you.”

“Really?” She smiled mischievously. “Chosen by our Ashley?”

“No. Saks Fifth Avenue.” He paused, gazing at her. “I’m doing the best I can, Kendra. This isn’t easy for me either. I’m not accustomed to platonic living arrangements.”

“You know, I gathered that from the moment I walked into your living room.”

“I mean it.”

Her smile faded. “I know you do.” She moistened her lips. “Look, I’d have to be blind again not to realize that you’re very highly sexed. It’s natural that you might possibly want to screw me given the intimacy of the circumstances. And, I admit I find you sexually desirable.” She shrugged. “But neither of us want to go down that path.”

“Don’t we?”

“It would confuse things. I don’t need that, and neither do you.”

He smiled. “So logical. So reasonable.”

“You betcha. We just have to remember what’s important.”

“This is the second time you’ve seen fit to lecture me on what I want or don’t want in our relationship.” He tilted his head. “I find it very interesting. You’ve noticed I haven’t commented on your analysis of my needs or desires? When I decide to do so, you may be surprised.”

“You often surprise me. But I can usually count on you for clear thinking.” She was silent a moment, her gaze meeting Lynch’s. Time to bring this encounter to an end. There were too many shadings of emotion and erotic response. She was too aware of him, dammit. “But I do thank you. I feel much safer in your fortress. It was a good idea to come here.”

“Sure.”

She was having trouble looking away from him.

Lynch took a step closer and moved a lock of hair from her face. “You’re sure I can’t give you anything else?”

A loaded question if there ever was one. She was tingling, her breathing shallow. She shook her head.

Another long moment of silence.

“I guess … I should let you get some sleep. Since we’re determined to be so logical.”

She didn’t reply.

Another pause.

“Well…” He motioned toward the door.

He was waiting for a sign, any sign.

And she wanted to give it, she realized.

“Good night,” he said softly. His hand caressed her cheek, then he turned and left the room.

Kendra let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was still tingling from the electric charge between them. Her cheek felt warm, sensitive where he’d touched her.

On the plane, all she had wanted was to go to sleep. Right now, that seemed impossible.

Damn him.

*   *   *

“KENDRA? KENDRA, WAKE UP.”

She opened her eyes, at first confused about where she was. Then she remembered.

Eric Colby.

The ridiculous and wonderful suburban fortress.

Bikini-model Ashley.

Lynch’s amazing, unexpected, yet frustrating restraint.

“Wake up, dammit.” Lynch was standing over her. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he was zipping up his pants. His hair was tousled, and he looked intense. She glanced at the window and saw that it was still dark out.

“What time is it?”

“Three thirty. Get up and get moving.”

She sat up in bed. “What the hell, Lynch?”

“Griffin just called. There’s been another murder.”

Go Nuclear Dance Club

University Avenue, San Diego

KENDRA AND LYNCH MADE THEIR WAY toward the club’s main entrance, where velvet ropes held back the ejected patrons who had decided to remain behind and see what was going on. As Kendra walked past the crowd, she heard snippets of conversations that confirmed the rumor mill was in high gear. In the space of fifteen seconds, she heard that the cops had closed the place down due to a) a drug bust, b) a brawl upstairs, or c) the discovery that the club was a front for the Russian mafia.

If only.

Lynch flashed his government ID to the cop outside and opened the door for Kendra. “Ever been here before?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Not since they changed the name and went respectable.”

“Respectable?”

She glanced around at the mirrored walls and pulsing, rotating lights, which emitted mechanized whirring sounds that were eerily audible now that the club music was turned off. “Yeah, this used to be a real dive. The bartenders would cheat drunk customers on their change, you’d see rats in the corners, and next to the back bar, some woman would always be treating customers to Jell-O shots off her bare stomach.”

“Seriously?”

“Absolutely.” She shot him a look. “And a couple times, that woman was me.”

“I’m finding that hard to imagine.”

“Why? I wondered what it would feel like. The world was full of curiosities and wonder for me back then. And most of the time, I didn’t hesitate to satisfy it.”

Lynch smiled faintly. “If you decide you want a replay, you’ll have to let me experience that sometime.”

“Dream on. That was another time. Been there, done that.” Kendra glanced around. “I have to say, this place was probably a lot more fun in those days.”

“Hi, guys.” Metcalf was approaching them. “Long time no see.”

“What do we have?” Kendra asked.

“The victim was a twenty-seven-year-old woman in a men’s bathroom stall.”

“The men’s bathroom?” Lynch asked.

“You know what it’s like in places like this. When there’s a mile-long line in front of the ladies’ bathroom, it’s not uncommon for women to slip into the men’s room.”

“How was she positioned?” Kendra asked.

“On her knees. Classic hugging the porcelain goddess pose.”

Kendra chilled as memories flooded back to her. “Like in Phoenix…”

“Exactly like Phoenix,” Metcalf said.

“The Gregory Hammond case.” She swallowed, hard. “He lured clubgoers into bathroom stalls promising drugs and/or sex. He killed them and positioned them just like this. Sometimes, the victims weren’t discovered until closing time.”

“A couple people looked in on her, and she just appeared to be ill,” Metcalf said.

“The last thing most people want to do is tangle with someone who looks like they’re puking their guts out,” Kendra said. “And I guess she was bleeding out from her slashed throat into the toilet?”

“Yes. No one had any idea. She’d probably been dead an hour before anyone realized.”

“San Diego PD realized it was patterned on the Phoenix case?” Lynch asked.

“The homicide detectives knew it right away,” Metcalf said. “We briefed them a few days ago, so they’re on the lookout for any cases that match.”

Lynch glanced around the club, which was empty except for the cops and club employees. “Did anyone see who was in there with her?”

Metcalf shook his head. “Not so far. And the only security cameras are in the offices upstairs.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “You want to take a look?”

Kendra stared at the open door, through which she’d seen half a dozen crime-scene investigators come and go since her arrival. She braced herself. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

They entered the large men’s bathroom, where in front of the last of six stalls, the woman’s corpse was stretched out on the floor. She was on her back, surrounded by a photographer and two crime-scene investigators.

Griffin was standing near the door. “They’ll be done with her in a minute.”

“Who did she come to the club with?” Lynch asked.

“No one. She was a regular, and she always came by herself. A couple of the bartenders knew her. She had a disabled kid at home, and she used to come here to blow off steam.”

Kendra turned toward him. “Disabled how?”

“I don’t know. Whatever it was, she was almost never able to leave the house with her, and this was her only release.”

Kendra turned back toward the corpse. Don’t let it be true. Please, please, please …

She pushed past Griffin and moved quickly toward the back of the bathroom.

One of the crime-scene investigators tried to stop her. “Ma’am, if I can ask you to stand clear while we—”

“No! Get out of my way.” She stared at the dead woman’s face. “No. Oh, shit, no.”

“Kendra?” Lynch and the two FBI agents were suddenly beside her.

Kendra felt her legs weaken, and she fell to her knees. She suddenly realized she was crying. “I know this woman … I know her.”

Lynch knelt beside her, holding her. “Who is she?”

Kendra couldn’t take her eyes off the woman’s once-vibrant face. “Her name is Danica Beale.”

Lynch glanced back at Griffin, who nodded his confirmation.

Kendra wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’ve been to her house. Her daughter is a client of mine. They live with Danica’s parents. The little girl is agoraphobic, and I was trying to help her. My God…” She looked up at Lynch. “You saw her on the embarcadero the other day.”

Lynch nodded.

“That poor woman. And that little girl…” Kendra felt a sudden surge of panic. “This is because of me.”

Lynch turned her to face him and looked her in the eye. “No. I can see how that would be your first reaction. But this atrocity is because there’s a psycho out there. No other reason.”

Kendra shook her head. “He’s upping his game. If it weren’t for me, Danica would still be alive and home with her daughter by now.”

“Maybe. And we’d still be standing over someone else who didn’t deserve to die. This isn’t your fault, Kendra. Not in any way, shape, or form.”

Griffin shook his head. “Maybe the mother of a disabled little girl shouldn’t have been out partying at two in the morning.”

Kendra whirled on him. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” she said fiercely. “She gave her daughter everything she had. And more.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Just stop, Griffin. The more you talk, the more of an ass you make of yourself.”

Griffin motioned toward the door. “Take her outside, Lynch. Let her get some air.”

Kendra pulled away from Lynch. “Let me alone. I’m not going anywhere.”

Griffin frowned. “Under the circumstances I believe—”

“I said I’m not going anywhere.” She looked down at Danica’s face. “Not until I’ve done what I can for her.”

Lynch asked quietly, “Are you really up for this?”

She drew a deep breath. “Give me a minute.”

Kendra closed her eyes for a long moment to clear her head.

Detach. Concentrate.

She crouched next to the corpse and tried to block out all the memories of the warm and loving person Danica Beale had been. Kendra scanned her from head to toe, pausing to examine the wound across her throat. She moved in to make a closer examination of her face and hands.

Finally, she stood up.

“Well?” Lynch asked.

“The killer is left-handed, which is consistent with what I saw with Myatt at Corrine Harvey’s house.”

“You got that from the neck wound?” Lynch asked.

“The angle of the cut suggests that he grabbed her from behind and sliced from right to left. He was wearing chocolate brown leather gloves when he killed her, so you might ask the employees here if they noticed anybody wearing them.”

One of the young crime-scene investigators stepped forward. “I’m Agent Herb Elon, ma’am. Leather gloves? I don’t understand. How do you figure that?”

“When he was cutting her throat, he would have had to place the other hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming. A natural response would be to bite him, which is probably why he was wearing heavy gloves. Look at her teeth. There are two tiny slivers of brown leather caught between her incisors.”

The crime-scene investigator, Elon, shined his flashlight into her mouth. “Holy shit.”

“And you might also check neighborhood security cameras,” Kendra said. “Here in Southern California, it’s rare to see a man wearing gloves anywhere but on a construction site.”

Lynch nodded. “Good idea.”

“And the killer may have a scratch on his face or neck.”

The other crime-scene investigator spoke up. “We checked her nails. No skin or blood there.”

“The fingertips on her right hand have been cleaned with a liquid bacteriological soap. Cuticura.”

The investigator wrinkled his brow. “How do you know?”

“I can smell it.”

“I’ve dealt with that soap. Cuticura is a fragrance-free soap.”

“That just means it wasn’t perfume-scented. It’s not the same as odor-free. Myatt may have cleaned the nails on her right hand postmortem because she scratched him. He was hoping to remove any blood or skin cells that might have his DNA on them. But antibacteriological soap doesn’t kill human DNA, so the medical examiner might still find some if he looks hard enough.” She looked at Griffin. “She may have marked our killer for us.”