“This was a first for her. She enjoyed the challenge.”
“If one of my exes e-mailed a picture of a dead guy to me, I might not be so understanding.”
“Sure you would. And then you’d solve the case yourself.”
She shrugged. “You might be right about that.”
“I know I am.”
“Incredible. It’s not enough that every city bus had a larger-than-life ad with Ashley’s beautiful Asian face and magnificent bikini-clad body, she can also toss this off on command.”
“Time is of the essence. I wanted it done quickly, so I asked her. She was happy to do it. It could help us to identify him. People get a little … disturbed when you flash them a picture of a corpse, and it often doesn’t look like the person they knew. This is probably a more accurate picture of him.”
“I agree.” Kendra gestured toward the picture. “She even neatened his hair.”
“And the photo will come in handy for an idea I have.”
“What’s that?”
“You gave it to me when you were talking your mother this morning. It’s a very good idea to approach this from the London angle. What Waldridge was working on, who he was working with…”
“I’m not going to London.”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting. I know someone there. We should contact him.”
Kendra checked her watch. “I have some appointments today. Two at the studio and one new referral. I really can’t miss them.”
“Do you still have a teleconferencing setup at your studio?”
“Yes.”
He started up the car. “We’ll use it to get in touch with my friend. It will only take a few minutes.”
CHAPTER
6
AFTER A QUICK DETOUR TO Kendra’s condo, so she could pick up her car, they met at her office, situated on the ground floor of a medical building. Most of her space was dedicated to a large, carpeted studio where she conducted her music-therapy sessions. The room was filled with an assortment of musical instruments, an adjacent observation area, and a seventy-inch television monitor.
Lynch looked at the monitor. “Do you use your teleconferencing equipment often?”
“Occasionally. Music therapy is a new discipline, and we’re still feeling our way with new techniques. It’s a good way for me and my colleagues to share our sessions and compare results.”
“Well, I think it would be an excellent way for you and my friend to meet each other.”
“Really? Why? And just who is this guy?”
“His name is Ryan Malone, but he’ll take serious offense if you call him anything but Rye. He’s a good man, extraordinarily competent at what he does.”
“What, exactly, does he do?”
“A little difficult to explain. He’s kind of like me.”
“I already don’t like him.”
“Rude. Very rude. And not truthful. You will like him. He’s Oxford-educated and spent his first several years out of college writing reports and doing research for the various intelligence agencies. Then he got restless and started taking assignments out in the field. Turned out he was good at it. He saved my bacon a couple of times.”
“Do you think he’ll help us?”
“I would think so.” Lynch gave her a sideways glance. “I’ve also saved his bacon. And he’s usually available. He really doesn’t like to work. He relaxes in his house in the English countryside, drinking wine and reading French literature. When he runs out of money, he just takes another assignment.”
Kendra smiled. “Sounds like he has it figured out.”
“He does. He’s probably the happiest person I know.” Lynch held up his phone. “I’ve already traded texts with him. He’s expecting our call. His address is right here.”
Kendra glanced at the address on Lynch’s phone and picked up her teleconferencing remote. She keyed in the address and looked at the screen, which glowed blue with the manufacturer’s logo. The screen flickered and, finally, an image appeared. It was a large brown leather chair in what looked like a study. A moment later, a fiftyish man dropped into the chair. As he smiled, his thick moustache jumped high on his round face. “What in the bloody hell have you gotten yourself into now, Lynch.” His tone was playful, with a thick British accent.
“Nothing you can’t get me out of, Rye.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Who’s your pretty friend?”
“This is Kendra Michaels. I’ve told you about her.”
His eyes widened. “Ah, yes. The blind girl who now isn’t.”
Kendra smiled. “I hope there’s more to me than that.”
“Of course there is, my dear. I’ve heard of your remarkable achievements. But surely you understand why I would be so fascinated by the wonderful gift you’ve been given.”
“I do understand. And it is wonderful.”
“But there’s something I’ve wondered ever since I heard your story, if you’ll indulge me … When you finally got your sight, was there anything that … disappointed you?”
She thought for a moment. “Something I saw that didn’t live up to my expectations?”