Gina flushed. “I’ve always found Agent Metcalf to be thorough and competent at whatever he does.”
“I’m sure you have,” Kendra said solemnly. “And I’m sure with time and experience your confidence in him will continue to grow. That should make it very exciting for you.” She turned away and headed for the house. “See you inside.”
“She knows,” Gina hissed to Metcalf behind her. “Dammit, you told her. I can tell. How could you do that?”
“I didn’t tell her. Exactly. It was the hotel shampoo and body wash. Besides, she’s not going to tell anyone. I can’t even guess how many secrets Kendra must learn just from strolling through a room at a cocktail party.”
“Not my secrets. Not until now. It was just little things before, but I hate having anyone with that much power over me. And you just accept it. How can you—”
Kendra was glad that she was out of range now. It was far from the first time she had been exposed to the indignation and anger of people when she had seen or heard too much for them to be comfortable around her. But she genuinely liked Gina and she should have resisted the temptation to make any teasing comment at all. There was no telling where sensitivity began and sense of humor ended with some individuals. Evidently Gina’s ended in the bedroom in both cases.
“What did you do to Gina?” Lynch murmured. He was suddenly standing beside her, his gaze on Gina and Metcalf across the yard. “She’s staring daggers at you, and Metcalf is cowering like a whipped dog.”
“He isn’t cowering,” Kendra said curtly. “He’s just trying to explain why … actually he’s defending me. And it’s probably making her even angrier. So stop taking shots at him.”
“Whatever you say.” His gaze was on her face. “I’d hate to go to battle when Metcalf is obviously doing such a good job. Am I allowed to ask why Metcalf is having to defend you?”
“Because I’m being me,” she said flatly. “And sometimes people have trouble with it. I probably would if I had a sensitive bone in my body. I just blurt out things that people would prefer to keep secret.”
“I find that part of your charm.”
She made a rude sound. “That’s because you don’t have a sensitive bone in your body, either. I just amuse you.”
“Yes, you do. And if you didn’t have a modicum of sensitivity, it wouldn’t bother you that evidently Gina took offense that you found out she was sleeping with Metcalf.”
She looked away from him. “I didn’t say that.”
“Please.” He looked pained. “I was aware of the signs of intimacy fifteen minutes after we walked into the FBI office today. I would have known before if I hadn’t been absorbed with watching Hagstrom. I might not have your in-depth ability in that area, but I can see what’s in front of me. And so can any number of other detectives and agents. It’s what we do for a living. You’re only on the hot spot because everyone knows that you’re damn good.”
“And I tend to open my mouth when I shouldn’t.”
“That’s due to the fact that you’re honest and believe everyone else should be honest as well.” His lips quirked. “And you have a mischievous sense of humor that surfaces occasionally. I take it that Gina didn’t appreciate it.”
“She has a right to her privacy.”
“That I just told you I’d breached before you got around to it. If she’s lucky enough to live in your world, she’d better get used to accepting who you are.” His smile faded. “Or you can send her to me for counseling. I’d be a hell of a lot better at it than Metcalf. Though I’m feeling a good deal more cordial toward him right now than I usually do.” His eyes were suddenly twinkling. “I’m not sure if it’s because he’s jumping Gina and it takes him out of the running, or if it’s because he’s nobly defending you.”
“I don’t think how you feel about him would make any difference to Metcalf,” she said dryly. “You persist in believing it’s all about you. It’s my opinion that matters; you just kind of dropped into this conversation.”
“I agree, it’s your opinion that matters. And I find it’s interesting that I discovered that you do have a few random moments of doubt that you’re not perfect.”
“Only a few.” She smiled. “And only when I like the person inspiring those doubts. Usually, I revert to how I felt years ago when I first realized that there were so many ways to identify what was going on around me.”
“After your operation? Now that interests me. How did you feel then?”
“At first, I was full of wonder,” she said softly, remembering that heady, exultant sensation of discovery. “Every day, every hour, was a new adventure. It wasn’t that I hadn’t known before how to compensate for that lack of vision by using my other senses. I just took it for granted. Then, when I could suddenly see, everything came together and it was like…” she searched for the right word “… kind of like a symphony. All the world around me was open and singing, telling me what was happening. All I had to do was reach out and study and observe and listen, and it would all come to me.”
“And no one can say you didn’t reach out,” he said gently.
“I thought anyone would be insane not to take what was offered. I devoured it.” She grimaced. “Which brought me to phase two. Because no one else seemed to understand how important it was to see everything, to hear every sound, to know what you were touching, to be complete. All those people who’d been given those same gifts the day they were born and had never bothered to use them in the way they should have. Too lazy? I don’t know. I only know, it made me angry. I wanted to shake them.”
He chuckled. “Now that’s the Kendra I know.”
“And then I went to phase three. Impatience.” She shrugged. “I guess that’s where I am right now. And why sometimes I don’t care if I’m a little rude to some of Griffin’s agents who drift around and just don’t get it.” She glanced at Gina. “And why it’s hard for me to care if someone is intimidated by me because they think I have some kind of power over them just because I pay attention.”
“It’s not that hard for you to care,” Lynch said quietly. “That’s what this is all about. I like all three phases of Kendra Michaels, and they all care. Though I’d really like to meet phase one Kendra just to compare the differences. Do you suppose you could pull her out of the mothballs and let me see all the wonder she saw?”
“Maybe someday. I think it would amuse you a little too much for me to tolerate.”
“You’re wrong. I’m not looking for amusement value. I think I might want to keep her around for the perfect balance.”
“Haven’t you been listening? The last thing I am is perfect. Ask Gina Carson.”
“I’ve been listening. But I don’t think I’ll ask Gina. I’ll look for someone less biased. Maybe I’ll take a poll.”
“Well, I can tell you at least two people who don’t believe I’m perfect. One is my patient, Ryan Walker, who I’m going to see this afternoon. Most of the time I’m not sure if he’s even aware I’m in the room.”