Kendra glanced at the report in Freen’s hands. “I don’t think I like where this is headed.”
Lynch spoke gently. “Iron-Out and hydrogen peroxide can be sprayed over an area to obliterate any bloodstains that might show up under Luminol and a UV light. It doesn’t have a strong odor and doesn’t cause discoloration. There are other chemicals that may be more effective, but these products are easier to get.”
“Shit,” she whispered. “Someone’s trying to hide a bloodstain.”
Freen nodded. “That’s the way it looks. You probably wouldn’t have even known if the liquid hadn’t pooled where you found it. Maybe there was a spill, or it was oversprayed in one area. Santa Monica PD has already been in touch with us about it. They say they probably wouldn’t even know about it if you hadn’t picked up on it, Kendra.”
Someone’s trying to hide a bloodstain.
She could still see the horrified look on the face of that dead man lying in the snow. Did the same thing happen to Waldridge?”
“He could still be okay,” Lynch said.
“But it just got a hell of a lot less likely,” she said jerkily. “But I’m not giving up.”
“I know,” Lynch said softly.
Kendra grabbed the framed print from Lynch’s hand and displayed the backside to Freen. “I need you to do something else for me.”
“Okay,” Freen said doubtfully.
“We found this at the murder scene in Big Bear. We discovered this and nine others, all with fresh splotches on the back. I need to know what this purple stuff is.”
Freen took it from her and held it up, letting the overhead fluorescent light play across the rear surface. “Where did this come from?”
“No idea. But it was placed there and put back on the wall, along with the other prints.”
Freen nodded. “I can take a look, but I’ll have to get approval from Griffin.”
“Please do,” Lynch said. “And tell him to call me if he’d like to discuss it.”
*
KENDRA SLUMPED DOWN IN the seat of Lynch’s car, trying to fight off the depression. They had just left the FBI building parking lot, and she had been too lost in thought to even speak as they left the building.
“Talk to me,” Lynch said.
“Not much to say. It’s not what I was hoping for, but after seeing that body in the snow last night, I’ve been preparing for the worst.”
“Well, it’s better to know. The police can start testing the floor to see if they can get DNA match off any of the blood residue. And it’s likely they’ll now allocate more manpower and resources to the case.”
She nodded. Okay, think on the positive side. “Yes. And we do have a lot of things set in motion. We have the FBI testing the material from the back of the picture, and hopefully we’ll be able to ID Waldridge’s associate before too long.”
Lynch reached under his seat and pulled out his tablet computer. “I have something that may help.”
She tried to smile. “Sorry, but your skill at Angry Birds isn’t going to be much use to us right now.”
“I don’t like computer games. You should know that by now.”
“Of course. When you’ve mowed down dozens of armed assailants in real life, an online game can’t compare.”
“I wish I was half as interesting as you make me out to be.”
“Are you denying it?”
“I can neither confirm nor deny any operations in which—”
“Blah-blah-blah.”
He flipped back the tablet cover and showed her a close-cropped photo of a man’s head and shoulders. “Look familiar?”
She took the tablet and stared at the photo for a moment. “That’s the dead man we found … But he’s alive here. Where did you get this?”
“He’s not alive here. This is the picture I took with my phone last night. After I got home, I e-mailed it to a friend who’s a wizard with Photoshop. I had her alter the picture to show how he might have looked when he was alive.”
“This is amazing … How did she get the eye color?”
“She just guessed. I didn’t think to lift his lids when we were out there last night, so she inserted a pair of eyes she found online. They’re actually Robert Redford’s eyes.”
“Really?” Kendra looked for some sign that the picture had been altered, but the effect was seamless.
“I also sent her a photo I took off the airport security video. The camera was too far away to be of much help, but it did give her an idea of how he set his jaw and eyeline when he was alive.”
“I’m impressed.” She handed the tablet back. “Who is this wizard? One of your government photography experts?”
“No. Actually…” he paused a long moment before finishing, “… it was Ashley.”
“Your supposed ex-girlfriend?”
“My definite ex-girlfriend.”
“Whose photography skill obviously goes beyond merely standing in front of a camera.”
“It’s her career. She’s made it her business to know everything about the process.”
“The process. Making a dead guy look like he’s alive.”