“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