Текст книги "Sight Unseen "

Автор книги: Iris Johansen

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Salazar turned back. “I came here this morning with the cellblock commander after we finished gathering the information you requested, Griffin.” He turned to Kendra. “Dr. Michaels, I’d like you to be prepared for what you’re going to see in here.”

Kendra found herself bracing defensively. “Why?”

Salazar grimaced. “Because Eric Colby appears to be as interested in you as you are in him.”

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

The guard swung the door open.

Kendra stopped short.

Almost every inch of the cell, from floor to ceiling, was papered with pictures of her.

“Holy shit,” Metcalf blurted out.

Her own face, thousands of times over, stared at her from every direction. She took a deep breath, but it suddenly seemed impossible to get enough oxygen.

Don’t freeze up now. Just move.

Kendra slowly stepped into the cell, which was approximately eight feet by ten feet. There was a bed, a toilet, a small table, and wall-mounted shelves with four open compartments. And the thousands and thousands of Kendra Michaels photos, all of varying sizes and quality.

She was ice-cold, drowning, as she stared at them.

Get a grip.

“These were downloaded from the Web,” Kendra said. “Crime-scene shots, courthouse appearances, even some pictures taken at educational symposiums.”

Reade turned to the warden. “Do prisoners have Internet access?”

“No. We don’t even allow them to receive regular mail that includes printed Web pages. Photos are permitted, as long as they’re downloaded and printed by themselves. Colby obviously put the word out that he wanted pictures of you.”

“And his followers were only too happy to oblige,” Lynch said.

Kendra scanned the room, trying not to let the pictures unnerve her more than they already had.

Focus. Block it out.

“How long has he had the Kendra Michaels photo collage?” Griffin asked.

“I asked the block commander about it this morning. It’s a fairly recent phenomenon. The pictures started coming in about eight months ago, and they immediately went up on the walls.”

“Is it possible that they’re all from the same person?” Griffin asked.

“Doubtful,” Kendra cut in before the warden could respond. “Almost all of them are from different printers. Some ink jet, some laser, a few thermal. And they’re cut differently, with various types and sizes of scissors, razor blades, and paper cutters.”

Warden Salazar nodded. “We open every piece of mail that comes through here, but if it isn’t contraband, we don’t log individual senders. But apparently these have been coming from all over the country. By the way, Colby has to take them down every few days so that we can inspect the walls.”

“In case he’s trying to pull a Rita Hayworth/Shawshank Redemption number over on you?” Lynch asked.

The warden smiled. “Or using them to help hide contraband. As soon as the search is complete, he spends the rest of the day putting each picture back up.”

“A lot of work,” Metcalf said. “Though he doesn’t have a lot else to do.”

Kendra’s eyes narrowed on the wall near the bed, straining to see past the photos of herself.

“Is this cell telling you anything?” Lynch asked.

“Surprisingly little,” Kendra said. “Or maybe not so surprising. Prisons are designed to strip inmates of their individuality.”

Griffin knelt beside the small table, examining it. “Maybe you’re just being distracted by the thousand pictures of yourself.”

“Possibly.” She glanced up at the ceiling, one of the few spots in the room where her face wasn’t staring back at her. Griffin was right. The photos had rattled her.

Close your eyes. Concentrate.

After a moment, she resumed her scan of the cell. “Are smuggled mobile phones a problem in this prison, Warden?”

“They’re a problem in every prison. Guards are the biggest offenders. If they’re caught, they usually just wind up with probation. Not much of a deterrent, especially since they can get a thousand bucks a pop for passing them along to inmates.”

Kendra continued her search. “Well, Colby has used two of them here fairly recently.”

The warden’s jaw went slack.

Lynch chuckled. “When I’m around her, I get that same look on my face.”

“How did—?”

She glanced up. “And did he attack a guard in the last week or so?”

The warden nodded warily. “Yes, there was a slight altercation. May I ask how you—”

“The room smells vaguely of bleach. None of the other cells we passed had the smell. That led me to think there was a special reason. There are a few drops of blood on the ceiling. I’m guessing there was more.”

“There was. The guard was actually trying to take away some of these pictures of you, Dr. Michaels. Colby objected, and there was a bit of a scuffle. Colby took the brunt of it.”

“But he obviously got to keep his shrine,” Lynch said.

“He … bargained.”

“With what?” Kendra asked.

“Information. He gave us the name of the guard who had sold him some prescription meds. The guard is now on administrative leave pending an investigation, and Colby got to keep his collection. It’s rare for a prisoner to inform on a guard, but I guess he figured he won’t be here that much longer.” The warden turned toward Kendra. “How did you know about the phones?”

She picked up the envelopes of mail on the table. “A guard apparently slipped them to him with his opened mail envelopes. Look at the creased outlines on this one.” She held up a greeting-card envelope. “This is the imprint of an inexpensive flip phone.” She held up another envelope. “And this one is exactly the same.” She flipped them over and showed that each envelope had a lengthy series of numbers written on it. “And I’m willing to bet that these numbers unlock minutes on the accounts of those phones.” She handed the envelopes to Salazar. “Do you recognize the handwriting?”

“Not immediately.” He pocketed the envelopes. “But you can bet we’ll do everything until we do identify it.”

Lynch placed his hand on Kendra’s back. Silent support. Comfort. “Anything else, Kendra?”

“No. Nothing.”

Nothing except those damned pictures.

Griffin turned toward the warden. “We need to talk to him.”

“Of course. I didn’t expect anything else. We have an interrogation room you can use in the visitor center.” He glanced at his watch. “He should be done with his media interview by now. I’ll have him brought over right away.” He looked curiously at Kendra. “Tell me, are you nervous? You haven’t seen him in a long time, have you?”

“Not long enough.” She followed Griffin out of the cell. “And ‘nervous’ isn’t the term I’d choose.” Dread, horror, and a curious sense of inevitability. “And, yes, it’s been over four years…”

CHAPTER

8

Four Years Earlier

Coachella Valley, California

7:42 P.M.

“THE GAME’S OVER, KENDRA!”

Panic.

Kendra’s heart was beating hard as she huddled behind a clump of large boulders protruding from the mountainside. Although darkness had fallen, the rocks were still warm from the late-afternoon sun.

She desperately needed that cover. Eric Colby stood at the top of the hill, staring in her direction.

“You’re very clever, Kendra. But not clever enough.”

Colby’s voice carried down the small ridge. He had manipulated events perfectly, drawing her and the two FBI agents out to this remote desert valley.

Now the agents were dead.

And she was next.

Kendra carefully moved down the hillside, hugging the large boulders as she mentally mapped an escape route.

“You could have saved them, Kendra. I didn’t care about those agents. I only cared about you.”

Don’t listen. Don’t let him rattle you. Keep moving.

“It gets cold out here. You can wrap yourself in the skin of those dead agents, if you like. Yes, that would be a great idea. The heavyset one looks like he would be hairy and warm. I can skin him in just a few minutes. Want me to throw it down to you?”

It. Throw it down. Special Agent Steven Byers, the sweet and funny man with a wife at home who was expecting a baby in two months, was now an it.

“Don’t feel bad,” he called down. “Before the night is over, I’ll be wearing your skin.” He paused. “Do you think I’m joking?”

He wasn’t joking.

She moved through a deep gully, scrambling to put as much distance between her and that madman as she could. She stumbled, then she stumbled again. What the hell was blocking her way?

Then she caught wind of an awful odor. The same odor as before.

And she knew what was blocking her path.

Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness.

She looked down.

Half a dozen corpses surrounded her on the gully floor, piled like dolls in a toy chest.

She choked back a scream.

No. God, no.

Move. Don’t stand here frozen.

She pushed on, trying not to look at the horror around her.

Colby laughed. “Have you found my friends yet? Did you think that those heads in the warehouse belonged to my only kills? Dozens more, Kendra.” She heard his footsteps sliding down the embankment.

He was coming for her.

She stopped as the sheer rock side of the mountain loomed before her.

No!

The gully’s sides were now over eight feet high, and she was boxed in.

Trapped.

No weapon.

No place to hide.

And he was getting closer.

She dove for the canyon floor and crawled back. Only one chance … She hurtled forward and found herself flat on her stomach.

And face-to-face with a young woman’s corpse.

Kendra grabbed the corpse’s shoulders and rolled over with it, intertwining her arms and legs with those of the decaying bodies on the canyon floor. Kendra fought her gag reflex as the odor flooded her nasal passages.

Must stay still. Perfectly still.

She heard Colby moving faster in her direction. Then he stopped, his gaze searching his macabre graveyard.

He began stepping over the corpses as he called out to the end of the gully. “There’s no way out, Kendra!”

Her head was turned away from him, lost—she hoped—in the horrific jumble of his victims. She heard his boots moving through the brush.

Could he see her?

She pictured him still holding his two large knives, overhanded in his right, underhanded in his left. The blades would still be dripping the blood of those two FBI agents.

He moved over her, close enough that she could hear him breathing directly overhead.

He stopped, his head tilted, listening.

Could he hear her breathing? She held her breath.

Keep going, please keep going …

He stepped over her …

… and then past.

In seconds, he’d know she wasn’t at the end of the trench.

No time to waste.

Or even think.

Her hand closed on a large rock, its jagged edges cutting into her palm. She slid out from under the corpses.

In one smooth motion, she rolled over and jumped to her feet.

A second later, she was behind Colby.

She struck him on the back of the head.

And again.

And again.

He howled in pain as the jagged edge of the rock cut his head. He tried to spin around with his knives, but she struck him again with all her strength.

He staggered forward and fell to his knees.

“Die, you son of a bitch.” She struck him again.

He pitched forward and went limp.

Kendra stood over him, still holding the bloody rock as she waited for any sign that he might rise again. Was he dead?

She hoped he was dead, she thought savagely.

No. He was still breathing.

But three or four more blows would surely do the trick. No jury on earth would convict her. After all, it was the only way to be sure he wouldn’t come after her …

She was giving herself excuses to kill Eric Colby. He was helpless, down for the count.

And she was not a murderer. She wouldn’t let him make her into the same monster he had become. She’d climb the nearest ridge and hope for cell reception there. If that didn’t work, she’d take Agent Byers’s car to the nearest town.

It would be okay. The evidence against Colby was overwhelming. They’d put him away and send him to death row. Eric Colby would never hurt anyone again.

But she still couldn’t let go of that rock. She gripped it tighter.

Just three or four more blows …

She craned her neck, trying to breathe air that wasn’t infected by that awful stench of death.

She staggered backward and scrambled up the side of the gully.

Three or four more blows …

She climbed the ridge and reached for her phone.

And only then did she let the stone fall from her fingers.

San Quentin State Penitentiary

Interrogation Room A

Present Day

KENDRA SAT BEHIND THE INTERROGATION room’s one-way glass, still overcome by the sights, sounds, and smells of that horrible night. She had glanced at Colby at his trial only long enough to point him out for the jury. Otherwise, she hadn’t seen him since their confrontation in Coachella Valley.

And she didn’t want to see him now, especially after seeing the sick shrine he had erected to her in his cell. Even Griffin thought it best that she stay in the closet-sized observation room with Reade and Metcalf while he and Lynch spoke to Colby.

The interrogation room was empty, pending Colby’s arrival. It looked remarkably similar to every police interrogation room in every medium-to-large city in the country. Except for the bolted-down prisoner’s chair, complete with steel eyeholes for leg and wrist restraints.

Where was he? The warden had said he’d have him here right away.

The rear door finally swung open, and Eric Colby walked into the room.

He looked precisely as Kendra remembered him. Jet-black hair, high cheekbones, pale skin, and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. His lips were almost always pursed, and only when he spoke did he reveal his straight, tiny, rodentlike teeth. She’d always thought the effect was downright bizarre, almost as if they belonged in someone else’s mouth.

He sat down, but the guards didn’t secure him to the chair. After a moment, Lynch and Griffin entered the room and sat across from him.

One of the guards held up a pair of handcuffs. “Are you sure you don’t want us to use these?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Griffin said. He raised his eyebrows at Colby. “Will it?”

“Not unless you want to wear them.” Colby’s tone was bitterly ironic, almost as if he was telling a joke only he understood. “And what brings you here, Mr. Special Agent in Charge Griffin?”

“No need to be so formal,” Lynch said. “Just call him Special Agent.”

Colby’s gaze shifted to Lynch. “And what do I call you?”

“Sir. Mister. Hey you. I answer to pretty much everything.”

Colby nodded. “So what brings you here, Special Agent Hey You?”

Griffin leaned toward him. “Your DNA was found at a crime scene in the past week.”

Colby raised an eyebrow. “Is that a fact?”

“Yes. We thought maybe you could tell us something about it.”

“I’m a little busy right now. Come back and ask me about it next week. You might find the conversation a little one-sided, though.”

“We’ll ask you about it now.”

Colby shrugged. “Ask.”

“Your DNA was found at the home of Corrine Harvey in San Diego. She was murdered.”

Colby shook his head. “She’s not one of mine.”

“We know,” Lynch said. “She was murdered last week.”

“Fascinating.”

“Glad you think so,” Lynch said. “You’ve no doubt heard of the copycat serial killer we’ve been chasing.”

“Of course. Someone’s been paying tribute to Kendra Michaels’s rogues gallery. But so far, he’s neglected to include my work. It’s very hurtful, you know. I don’t appreciate your rubbing my nose in it.”

Lynch studied him for a long moment. “Oh, but I think it is your work. At least partially.”

“Really? I’m flattered. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been a wee bit … indisposed, of late.”

“You’re the architect. Someone else is working from your designs.”

“Now that would be interesting.” Colby leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Tell me more.”

“Interesting?” Griffin tried to hide his disgust. He didn’t succeed. “Taking human lives is interesting?”

Colby’s lips curled into a sly grin. “Only if you do it right.”

“Tell us how your DNA got into that murder scene,” Griffin said.

“You’re asking the wrong question. The question isn’t how, it’s why.”

“Okay,” Griffin said. “Let’s start there. Why?”

Colby slowly stood up. “It wasn’t a clue, gentlemen. It was an invitation.”

“An invitation to what?” Lynch asked.

“Again, you ask the wrong question.” Colby moved to stand before the one-way glass.

“Sit down,” one of the guards ordered.

“What you should want to know is to whom was the invitation addressed?” Colby stared into the glass. “She is here, isn’t she?”

Kendra felt a jolt of shock.

He was staring at her.

He was only inches away, and there was no way he could see through that glass. Yet she could swear he could see her.

Colby smiled. “Of course she’s here,” he said softly. “Hello, Kendra.”

Kendra couldn’t take her eyes from Colby’s icy stare.

“I’d like to say I missed you,” he said. “But it wouldn’t be true. Because you’ve always been with me.” He paused. “Just as I’ve always been with you. Do you remember the gully? Do you still wake at night with the stench of death in your nostrils?”

She instinctively shrank back, away from the glass.

“I dream about it, too. But it’s a pleasant scent to me because I know what horror it brought you.”

“Get him,” Lynch told the guards sharply. “Get him away from that glass.”

The guards grabbed Colby and literally dragged him back to his chair. He laughed, but his eyes never left the one-way glass.

Lynch leaned forward across the table. “Enough,” he said tightly. He struck the table with his fist. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“She has everything to do with this, Mr. Lynch.” As Colby finally turned to face him, Colby picked up on his surprised expression. “Yes, I know who you are. I know who all of you are. Has it occurred to you that every single thing that has happened these past few weeks … just might have been all for one reason and one reason only?”

“What’s that?” Griffin asked.

Colby smiled. “To bring me face-to-face with Kendra Michaels once more.”

“Yes.” Lynch’s face was expressionless. “I’ve been considering it as a distinct possibility since I arrived here.”

“My God,” Kendra whispered.

Griffin shook his head, as if trying to comprehend what he’d just heard.

Colby smiled. “Think about it. How else could I have ever gotten her here? How else could you have gotten her here?”

Griffin finally spoke. “You’re positively insane.”

“No. If that was the case, I never would have had to stand trial.”

Lynch’s hands clenched into fists. “So you’re taking at least partial responsibility for these new copycat murders?”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort. But what I’m telling you is … if you want this conversation to continue, Kendra Michaels must join us.”

Lynch shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Then we’re finished here.”

“We’ll decide when we’re finished,” Griffin said.

“Actually, no.” Colby tapped his fingertips together. “The moment I accepted my death sentence, I became free. It was incredibly liberating, believe it or not. I simply cannot be compelled to do anything I don’t want to do. How many people can say that? There’s nothing more you can do to me, nothing more you can take away from me. You should envy me.”

“The hell we should,” Griffin said.

“Not you.” Colby’s gaze turned to Lynch. “But I think you’d have the imagination to grasp what I’m saying, Lynch. I believe that you may think outside the box.”

“We’ve seen your cell,” Lynch said. “And I don’t envy you.”

“Not until you have the same sentence pronounced on you.” He shrugged. “Those are my last words until Kendra joins us. If she chooses not to come in here, I wish you all a pleasant journey home. And good luck with your investigation.”

Colby folded his hands in front of him on the table and gazed straight ahead.

On the other side of the glass, Kendra stared at Colby in helpless fascination. He was wrapped in silent power, shutting them all out.

And he’d meant every word he’d said.

Don’t make me do this.

She’d fought against it, told herself that she could dip her toe in the ugliness that was Colby and not be pulled beneath the murky wasteland.

But she’d known in the end that it would come down to Colby and her.

She shut her eyes to close him out.

But she could still see him staring at her.

She opened her eyes. “I have to go in there.”

Metcalf shook his head. “He’s playing you.”

“He’s playing all of us.”

“He doesn’t care about the rest of us,” Reade said urgently. “It’s you.”

“Yes, it’s me. And that’s why I have to let him take his shot at me.” She got to her feet and left the observation room. She walked around to the interrogation-room entrance, where Lynch was already waiting outside the door to meet her.

“No,” he said flatly.

“It’s not your choice.”

“Whose choice is it? That maniac’s?”

“Mine. If I don’t go in there, this whole trip will be for nothing. And, in case you’ve forgotten, there’s still a killer out there we need to stop. It’s not all about Colby.”

“Isn’t it? I’m not entirely sure.”

“That’s right, you said that you were seeing possible connections since we got here. Why didn’t you mention it to me?”

“It was too far out.” He grimaced. “Colby was right, I think out of the box.”

“So do I. Next time, tell me. I won’t feel so alone.” She braced herself. “Open the door.”

He didn’t move.

“Open it, Lynch.”

“I don’t like this,” he said harshly. “He’s going to crucify you. I wish to hell we knew what his angle is.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

“Let me go in with you.”

“No, you can’t protect me from Colby. I found out a long time ago that I’m the only one who can do that. Now let me get this over with.”

Lynch still didn’t move.

“Lynch.”

“Griffin is in there. Why not me?”

“I don’t mind Griffin’s being there. He won’t get in my way. You always interfere.”

He muttered a curse. Then he rapped on the door, and one of the guards unlocked and opened it.

Kendra entered the room.

Although she had already seen Colby through the glass, she felt the chill return as she breathed the same air as the man she had so long associated with pure evil.

“Hello, Kendra.” He smiled mockingly. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you at last.”

She froze for a moment. Could he see how his voice went through her like one of his knives?

“I want a name,” she said. “Who’s killing these people?”

Colby tilted his head. “You know … I still get headaches. All these years later, I still get horrible headaches from the concussion I got when you hit me with that rock.”

“I guess a fractured skull will do that to you. I had to force myself not to make the damage permanent.”

“That’s no surprise. I thought as much later once I delved into your character.” His smile faded. “You were very clever, Kendra. You forced me to revise my plans. That’s the only reason they all fell apart.”

“Give me a name.”

He ignored her request. “I was at a disadvantage. It was your first case, and I didn’t know you. I didn’t know how you worked. But things are different now. I know you better than you know yourself.”

She gave him a skeptical look. “You always were an egomaniac, Colby.”

“You may think I’m exaggerating, but I’m not,” he said. “Most people really don’t know themselves very well. It gives me a tremendous advantage.”

“Oh, because you’re smarter than all of us…?”

“I’ve had the benefit of a lot of time and a lot of motivation. And I’ve summoned you here for a very special reason.”

“You summoned me?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He smiled. “Just last week, if someone had asked you to get on a plane, come here, and stand three feet in front of me, there’s no way you would have done it. My, what a difference a few days can make…”

“I’m here because innocent people are being massacred.”

“And you thought I might somehow be able to help stop the massacre.”

“I never thought that. Others did, but I didn’t. I know you better than that, Colby.”

“And yet here you are.”

“You’re just an item that needed to be crossed off. We’ll catch this psychopath with or without your help.”

“Admit it. As you say, you know me and my little quirks. You’re aware that I never hide my cleverness and superiority from lesser beings. You thought that, in all my preening, I just might give you something you needed to solve your case.”

“You do preen with the best of them.”

“I do. I really do.”

“Okay, here’s your chance. How did you get your DNA on Corrine Harvey’s sweater?”

“I knew that would bother you.” His smile widened, his tiny teeth reminding her of a serpent’s fangs. “It’s kind of a wonderful magic trick, isn’t it?”

“You’re dying to tell us. You want to show the whole world how brilliant you are.”

He clicked his tongue. “You know … people think they want to know how a magic trick is done, but they don’t really. When they find out the secret, the wonder disappears. They’re suddenly not impressed. They respect the magician less, not more, regardless of how brilliant and mystifying his methods may be.”

“We’re not talking about magicians, Colby. Romanticize it all you want, but in the end we’re talking about killers. Thugs.” She forced herself to stare him in the eye. “There’s only you and your puppet on the outside. There’s no magic, there’s no wonder. Just a pair of pathetic psychopaths.”

If Colby was bothered by her words, he didn’t let it show. He nodded to where Griffin was sitting down the table. “Your FBI handler isn’t happy with your attitude toward me, Kendra. You’re not following the Bureau playbook. Don’t you know you’re supposed to stroke my ego in order to keep me talking, so that I’ll give something away?”

Kendra glanced at Griffin. He did indeed look tense and upset. She shrugged. “I told you, that may be what these agents are here for, but I wouldn’t waste my time. It wouldn’t work with you.”

Colby laughed. “Quite right.”

“So if you’re not going to answer my questions, why did you ‘summon’ me?”

“It was important to me that I see you one last time, Kendra. I have an announcement to make.”

“Then make it.”

He paused. “A drumroll please.”

“Say it.”

“I’ve changed our story.”

“What story is that?”

“The one where the gifted, formerly blind Kendra Michaels uses her intellect and powers of observation to stop a deranged madman in his tracks.”

“That story is over, finished.”

“No. To crib a phrase from Shakespeare, what is past is prologue.” He paused. “Because our story will not end until you know how it feels to truly suffer, Kendra. In every way imaginable.”

She took a deep breath. Don’t react. Don’t give this creep one shred of satisfaction.

“You’re trying so hard not to show your fear.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “But that terror is part of the new story. The terror and the pain have already begun and won’t leave you until the end. And it won’t even be over when the federal government shoots poison into my veins Monday night. Trust me on that.”

Kendra felt a chill that went to her very core. She had seen the many horrible ways Colby had backed up his promises.

“Enough.” Lynch had opened the door and strode into the room. “Get the hell back to your cell and talk to your paper-doll cutouts.” He nodded to guards. “Take him.”

Colby raised an eyebrow. “Giving up so easily, Mr. Lynch? That isn’t your reputation.”

“Like the lady said, you’re just another lead to be crossed from the list.”

Colby rose to his feet as the guards approached. “We all know that’s not true.” His gaze shifted from Lynch to Kendra, then back again. “I do believe he’s a trifle upset, Kendra. Interesting.” He held her gaze. “He’ll be more upset the closer we get to the end of the story.”

“Bullshit.” Kendra was trying to hold it together, but the interrogation room suddenly felt as it were getting smaller, bringing her closer and closer to Colby and his serpent smile. She had to get out of here. As she walked to the door, her throat was closing, and it was getting harder to breathe. “I’m done with you.”

“But that’s the delightful twist to the story,” he called after her. “You’ll never be done with me, Kendra.”

She practically stumbled into the hallway as the guard unlocked the door for her. Lynch was right behind her. He took her by the arm and half walked, half carried her around the corner. “Stop. There’s no one here.” He jammed her up against the wall and stepped closer, taking her in his arms, hiding her from view. “Let it go.”

“I’m okay.” She wasn’t okay.

Heads in the warehouse, eyes glued open.

The smell of the dead in the gully.

Lifting the corpse off her to try to get to Colby.

Colby’s looking mockingly at her. “You’ll never be done with me, Kendra.”

She could hear Lynch cursing beneath her ear. “Stop shaking. You’ll never have to see the bastard again.”

She hadn’t realized she was shaking. She tried to control herself. But she wasn’t ready to let him go yet. He was pouring strength and warmth into her as he always did. Just a few more minutes …

It was more like five when she said, “You can let me go now.”

“No, I can’t. You’re stuck with me. I’m not going to let Griffin see you like this. He’d enjoy it too much.”

She didn’t want Griffin to see her like this either. She was becoming better by the moment, but she had to be entirely herself before she faced him. “Griffin didn’t say one word while I was in that room with Colby.”

“He probably thought that he might get what he wanted if he left it up to a confrontation between the two of you. You were holding your own.”

“Not toward the end.”

“Colby didn’t see it.” His lips brushed her forehead. “But I couldn’t stand any more. So I broke it up.”

And she was glad he had. Colby would not have done anything but torment her. He had made it clear why he’d ‘summoned’ her. “I think … he’s even more evil than when I knew him before. I didn’t think that possible. Yet he’s changed somehow.”

“Perhaps you blocked him out.”

She shook her head. “He’s changed. There’s something … new.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about him any longer. He dies Monday, and you don’t have to see him again.”

She drew a deep breath and shook her head. “You heard him. I’m never going to be done with him.” She pushed him away. “And all your promises won’t change that.” She straightened. “They wouldn’t anyway. This is between Colby and me. That’s how it’s been from the beginning. You have nothing to do with it, Lynch.”

“Not true.” He paused. “And that was only a threat to intimidate you.”

“No, it wasn’t. He meant every word. I don’t know how he means to follow through, but that’s his intention.” She moistened her lips. “And it will be soon. He would want to see it happen.” She ran a hand through her hair to straighten it. “Now let’s go and find Griffin and the others. Colby was pretty much a waste of time except that it’s almost a sure thing that Myatt was in contact with him.” She moved down the hall toward the interrogation room. “We have to find out how that contact was made.”