She was so surprised by the gesture that she could only summon a limp wave as he ducked into the restaurant and moved toward the back.
She continued down the street. Motorcycle woman, whoever the hell she was, had saved her from those two thugs in the building. Why not turn around and confront her? Difficult, she decided, because the woman could be tailing her from blocks behind. She’d been studying reflections in the shop windows and knew the no one in the immediate vicinity was following her.
Kendra turned, walked past the Western wear store and turned left as instructed. She stole a glance back as she made the turn. There were several people on the sidewalk some distance away, among them at least two females with roughly the same body type as Motorcycle woman.
What in the hell did she want?
If, indeed, one of those women was her. She hadn’t been able to catch a look at the shoes.
Keep walking. Stay alert. Don’t look back.
Where the hell was Lynch? If he was somewhere on this street, he was damned good. She sure couldn’t spot him.
She walked an entire block, then another. Did Lynch expect her to just keep walking until she reached the— A sharp yell behind her!
Kendra whirled around. Lynch was there, and he had a woman in a hold.
She had short dark hair in a pixie cut and wore jeans and a long black coat that looked somewhat like a duster. And Fusion Lei riding boots.
She used one of those boots to kick backward and strike Lynch’s knee. He winced in pain, and she seized the opportunity to drop out of his grip. She spun around and pummeled him with half a dozen lightning blows to his kidneys. He was obviously in agony, but he snapped his hands over her wrists and twisted her around with her own left arm pulled taut over her throat.
The woman was still struggling as Kendra ran toward them. “Enough,” Lynch said, gritting his teeth. “Keep it up, and I promise you’ll be unconscious in seconds.”
She muttered something Kendra couldn’t understand, but was probably obscene.
Kendra studied the woman. “It’s definitely her. Same body type, exact same boots with a light blue scuff mark on the right heel.”
Lynch readjusted his grip on the woman. “It feels like there’s a wallet of some kind on the left inside pocket of her coat. Pull it out.”
Kendra carefully reached inside the coat and pulled out a thin leather wallet. She opened it and studied the ID card behind a plastic window. “It’s a private investigator’s license.”
Lynch loosened his grip. “A private detective?”
Kendra showed him the license. “Her name is Jessie Mercado. She’s from L.A.”
The woman finally spoke through set teeth. “And I saved your ass yesterday. Don’t leave that part out.” She jerked her head back at Lynch. “Does this ape follow your commands? If so, please tell him to let me go.”
Kendra closed the wallet and shrugged. “Lynch, let go of her.”
Jessie Mercado stepped away from Lynch and rubbed her shoulder as she glared at him. “Just so that you know, I could have put you down. I was going easy on you.”
“Got it.” He placed his hand on his side. “I’ll be pissing blood for days, but you were going easy on me.”
Jessie was now rubbing her arm. She was a pretty woman of medium height, about thirty, slender, with tanned skin, huge dark eyes, and delicate features that belied the obvious toughness in her attitude and bearing. She said grudgingly, “Well, I think you dislocated my shoulder, so I guess we’re even.”
“Not really,” Kendra said. “Why are you following me?”
“How do you know I was?” Jessie shrugged. “You’re nothing to me.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t really care.” She hesitated. “I’m on a case for a client.”
“What client?” Lynch asked.
“Have you ever heard of a thing called professional confidentiality?”
“Heard of it. I don’t give a damn about it,” Kendra said. “I need answers. A friend of mine is missing. He’s my only priority.”
“Well, that’s something we have in common.” She met her eyes. “Because my client happens to be Dr. Charles Waldridge. He’s my priority, too.”
Kendra wondered if her face was showing the shock she felt. “Waldridge hired you?”
Jessie nodded.
“Where is he?”
Jessie grimaced. “I wish I knew.”
“How could he be your client if you don’t—”
“I met him the day he disappeared. A satisfied former client referred him to me. He hired me on the spot.”
“Hired you for what?”
She shook her head. “Confidential. He swore me to secrecy. That’s why I didn’t come forward as soon as he disappeared.”
“Something’s happened to him,” Lynch said, “May I say your priorities are a little screwed-up? You might hold information that can save his life.”
She stiffened defensively. “Don’t think I haven’t been weighing that.”
“Must have been torture for you,” Lynch said caustically. “How about if I put my thumb on the scale by taking you to the police?”