Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)

“What was he doing the last time you spoke to him?”


“He was tracking a lead from the auto investigation system of our Big Bear corpse, Dr. Porter Shaw. Shaw’s supposed workplace didn’t exist, but Rye found an old factory where he’d been going.”

“That was the last time you talked to him?”

“Yes. He texted me the address. It may be nothing, but as far as I know, it’s the last place he went. I have to go there.”

She nodded. “But can’t the local police handle it?”

“They are handling it. I was just talking to a mutual friend of mine and Rye’s. He’s with the National Crime Agency. I told him what I knew, but I still need to go there.”

“Of course.”

Regret flashed across his face. “I have to do this, Kendra.”

“I told you, I know you do. I’m just sorry I can’t go with you. As long as Waldridge is missing, there’s no way I can leave here.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to.” He looked away from her. “Damn. A world without Rye Malone is a sadder place. I’m already missing him.”

“Did he have family?”

“An ex-wife who was happily married to him when he was an intelligence-agency desk jockey. When he was in the field, she just couldn’t take it.”

“I guess she never wanted to receive a call like the one you just got.”

“I guess she didn’t.” His lips twisted. “Maybe she’s a very smart woman.”





CHAPTER

12




LYNCH DROVE KENDRA BACK to her condo, where he threw together his belongings and packed with astonishing efficiency.

Kendra smiled. “Something tells me you’ve spent a lot of time living out of that suitcase.”

“Too much time.” He zipped his Eagle Creek duffel and rested it on the floor. “When a piece of luggage feels more like home than my actual house, I know I’ve been doing something seriously wrong.”

“It cost Rye his marriage, and it sounds like it cost you Ashley.”

He stepped closer to her. “I’m not thinking about Ashley.”

She felt herself tense. “Out of sight, out of mind?”

“No. That was a relationship that had run its course.” His face was only inches from hers. “But this … This has been nice. You and me, here, under the same roof. I had the same feeling when you were at my place. There’s something very … right about it.”

He was too close. She was having trouble breathing. “I seem to remember a few moments when it felt anything but right.”

He smiled. “There are a few awkward moments in any new relationship. I told you that we’d get through it, and we did.”

“Relationship? I think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves.”

“No. You just need to catch up.”

Kendra was about to toss off a flip rejoinder, but she saw Lynch was no longer smiling. “You’re still shell-shocked from losing your friend. I’m not going to take anything you say seriously.”

“I’m more serious than I’ve ever been. If Rye’s death tells me anything, it’s that it’s foolish to waste time.”

“Is that we’ve been doing? I thought that we were assessing which way we wanted to go and what was wise. At least, that’s what you—”

He’d pulled her close and was kissing her. “Assessed, hell. I’m done with that game.” He kissed her again. A hot rush surged through her, and once again she felt overwhelmed by everything that was Adam Lynch. The whiff of his scent, the feel of his facial stubble, and the heat of his deep, almost animalistic breathing.

He finally pulled away. “I’m not waiting anymore. When I get back, I want to see what this can be. What we can be. Together.”

“Really?” She was having trouble putting words together when all she wanted to do was go back into his arms, then the nearest bed. “Don’t I get a say?”

“Not at the moment. You’re still too edgy about committing to anything, and you’ll just annoy the hell out of me. I’m too aware right now that at any time a ten-ton truck could come barreling around a corner and smash one or both of us into the hereafter. Not to mention those sons of bitches who killed Rye and are still out there.”

“I told you that you were shell-shocked.”

“Yeah, maybe. Besides, it’s not necessary that you have your say.” He picked up his suitcase. “You’re not the only one who knows how to read people.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes. Of course, you make it easy for me. You have a terrible poker face, at least as far as this subject goes.” His eyes were suddenly glinting with mischief. “You keep pushing me away, but I realize how irresistible I am.”

That damn smile was irresistible.

And he was going away, and might face fatal ten-ton trucks and those men who’d killed Rye without her.