“Why, Kendra, you told me never to do that again.”
“And when did that ever stop you when you wanted to do something.” She tilted her head. “But why did you want to join us? It was almost all attacks on my sloppy clothes and past boyfriends and…” She stopped. “Mom. It was all aimed at Mom. You were manipulating her, you bastard. All of it was making sure she considered you both on the same team, fighting the same fight. By the time we left, you’d gotten exactly what you wanted.”
“I like her,” he repeated. “And I knew she’d be more comfortable about you if she liked me. I enjoyed breakfast, and I found out more about you, and Dianne knows that she can trust me because we both think Tommy Schiller would have been a big mistake. I think it’s been a good day so far.”
“And I think that Mom was right.” She gazed thoughtfully at him. “You’re a very dangerous man, Lynch.”
“Without doubt.” He nodded. “But not to you. Never to you, Kendra. And now Dianne knows that whatever threat I am is aimed at protecting you from the Tommy Schillers of the world. We just won’t mention all the other serial killers and scumbags you might stumble across. Okay?” He took her elbow and guided her across the busy street. “Now, let’s get you out of those sloppy sweatpants and into something more alluring to impress the lab boys.”
FBI Regional Field Office
San Diego
Kendra and Lynch arrived at FBI field-office main lobby and approached the reception desk. Kendra spoke brusquely to the thick-necked young man behind the counter. “Kendra Michaels and Adam Lynch to see Special Agent in Charge Michael Griffin.”
She expected a blank look and at least two phone calls before they would be admitted since no one had any idea they were coming. Instead, the guard immediately slapped two badges on the counter, each preprinted with their names. “The lab’s on the eighth floor. Do you know where you’re going?”
Kendra stared at him in disbelief. This circumventing of bureaucracy was mind-boggling in her experience. “Uh, yes. Of course.”
The man glanced down at the small nature print that Lynch was holding in his left hand. “Nice painting.”
“It really isn’t.” Lynch scooped the badges up and steered Kendra toward the elevator. “Thank you.”
After the elevator doors closed, Kendra shook her head as she clipped on the badge. “What just happened? Did you tell them we were coming?”
“No. Not at all. I guess I didn’t have to. Griffin knows us too well.”
“He sure does.”
“And this way, we’re the lab’s problem. Appearances to the contrary, Griffin is no fool.”
The elevator opened almost directly in front of the white double doors of the forensics lab. A slender, ponytailed young man in a white lab coat walked past. Kendra remembered him from another case.
“Dustin Freen?”
Freen turned around and smiled. “Hi, guys. What took you so long? I thought you would have been here awhile ago.”
“Apparently everyone knew that but us,” Kendra said.
Lynch immediately got down to business. “Do you have something for us?”
“Actually, I do. I came in early today. Way early. Griffin authorized overtime for this.”
“Nice of him,” Kendra said.
Lynch smiled. “He probably wants to clear the lab and get us out of his hair as quickly as possible.”
Freen spoke to Kendra. “You say that fluid transfer came from the floor in Dr. Waldridge’s hotel room?”
“Yes,” Kendra said. “I couldn’t quite identify the odor.”
“Come in. I may have some answers for you.”
He led them through the double doors into the lab. They walked past several aisles of scientific equipment and lab tables before reaching a series of cubicles that wouldn’t have been out of place in any office in corporate America.
But instead of Dilbert cartoons, most were decorated with gruesome crime-scene photos.
Freen leaned into his cubicle and picked up a printout. “It appears to be a combination of some fairly typical household products.”
“Like what?” Kendra asked.
“Like sodium metabisulfite and sodium hydrosulfite.”
“Common in your household, maybe.”
“They’re the principal ingredients of a rust-stain remover. The trade name is Iron-Out. It was mixed with a smaller amount of hydrogen peroxide.”
Lynch clicked his tongue. “That’s not good news.”
Kendra looked from one to the other. “What am I missing?”
Lynch took a deep breath. “If someone tried to clean up blood from a crime scene, it almost always shows up under Luminol and an ultraviolet light. But there are ways of obscuring it.”
“Like bleach?” Kendra asked.
“That’s one way,” Freen said. “But bleach stinks and totally discolors any carpeting and many hard surfaces it comes into contact with. If you’re trying to cover up a crime, that’s not a very stealthy way of doing it.”