“LIZ, I THOUGHT WE’D never get rid of you.”
So said the bride’s father as he toasted the happy couple, following a rather flat speech by the maid of honor. The rest of his speech was sweet, and it seemed no less heartfelt the tenth time Kendra watched than the first. She leaned back on the living room sofa in her condo studying the wedding guests around him. There was nothing in his words or their reaction that seemed out of place. Time to move on. She was wasting her time with him.
A knock at her door.
Her friend Olivia’s knock. And the fact that she was using just one knuckle made it apparent she was already holding the door key in her hand.
“Come in!”
Olivia inserted the key, threw the lock, and opened the door. “You’re pissed, aren’t you?”
“For practically drawing Metcalf a map to my location and destroying one of my few precious moments of leisure time? Why would you think that?”
“Sorry.” Olivia closed the door behind her. Her long brown hair was tied in a bun, which only accentuated her strikingly beautiful face and olive-toned skin. Kendra had known her since they were children at the Woodward Academy in Oceanside. Kendra had spent years overcoming pangs of guilt for leaving her friend behind in the darkness, but Olivia had only expressed happiness for Kendra’s good fortune. “I did think about it. But Metcalf can be persuasive. He said he had something you’d want to know about.”
“He was right. It’s good that you told him.”
“My excellent judgment triumphs again.” Olivia cocked her head at the sounds coming from Kendra’s television. “What are you watching?”
“A video of a wedding reception.”
“Whose?”
“I have no earthly idea.”
Olivia sat on the couch next to her. “This reality TV craze has gotten out of hand.”
“It’s not a TV show. It’s a video that a dead woman wanted me to see.”
Olivia nodded. “Huh. If it was anyone else, I’d swear you were joking.”
“Pretty sick joke.”
“It’s not a joke, just your sick life.” She got more comfortable on the couch. “Tell me about it.”
Kendra brought her up to speed on what Griffin and Metcalf had told her about the young murder victim and her mysterious video. Then she played the video through for her again.
After she finished, Olivia sat in silence for a long moment. “Just one question. Who at this wedding reception thought this was a bad idea and needed to get the hell out of there?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Rewind the video. Go back to right before the Bonnie Raitt song begins … ‘Feels Like Home.’”
Kendra eyed her skeptically. “Are you punking me?”
“No. Do it!”
Kendra picked up her TV remote and rewound the video. She stopped a few times before coming to the section Olivia had indicated.
Kendra listened for a few seconds. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“Shh! Listen!”
Kendra cocked her head. The room was noisy with guests making good-natured fun of each other’s dance moves. Then there was a rasping sound, like a harsh whisper. But the whisper was so extremely soft it was totally unidentifiable.
Olivia turned. “Hear that?”
Kendra skipped back a few seconds and turned up the volume full blast.
More rasping, then a slightly more intelligible, “We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Now do you hear it?” Olivia asked.
Kendra skipped back again and leaned forward. She concentrated and this time she heard it all.
“This is a bad idea. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Then someone else speaks,” Olivia said. “They’re whispering to each other. Play it over.”
The second whisper was even more muffled.
“Why? When it’s all here.”
Kendra replayed the two segments several times.
“This is a bad idea. We need to get the hell out of here.”
And then the answer.
“Why? When it’s all here.”
The first was spoken with a sense of urgency, Kendra thought. Of danger.
As far as she could tell, the second person was almost lazy, amused.
Olivia smiled. “I can’t believe I caught something you didn’t. I think relying on your eyesight is starting to make you soft in the hearing department.”
“I’ve always said you had better hearing than I do. I just worked harder training myself to listen. But this one went right by me. Good job, Olivia.”
“This is a bad idea. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Why? When it’s all here.”
Kendra shook her head. “But I can’t even tell if either one of them is a man or woman. Can you?”
“No. They’re both too low and the noise drowns them. I guess this could be anything,” Olivia said. “Someone who has run into an ex they didn’t expect to see or an estranged family member…”
“This is a bad idea. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Why? When it’s all here…”
Kendra let the video continue as she thought for a moment. “I don’t think it was either of those things. There was an edge to that first voice. Yet I can’t be sure of anything because it was too darned soft. But I do know it wasn’t one of the speakers in the bridal party or anyone else that I heard on this video. It might have been one of the guests. It was a huge wedding. Maybe if I go through it enough times, I’ll catch another voice that sounds familiar.”
“How many times?”
Kendra sighed. “Oh, maybe fifty or so…”
“Then maybe I should listen,” Olivia said slyly.
“Rub it in. But you’re welcome to stay. Have you eaten? I could order in from that Italian restaurant on the corner.”
“Thanks, but I have to get back to work.”
“Work” for Olivia was her popular web destination, Outtasite, which featured news, interviews, and product reviews, all geared to a vision-impaired audience. In the past few years, the site had grown from a hobby to a six-figure annual income for Olivia.
Kendra checked her watch. “It’s already almost ten o’clock. And you accuse me of being a workaholic.”
Olivia stood. “No rest for the weary. I have a conference call with the company in Japan that does my website language translations there.”
“Wow. When did you get to be such a media mogul, Olivia?”
“Around the same time you started catching killers. Guess we each have our own way of passing the time. I like mine better.” She walked toward the door. “Later.”
“Good night, Olivia.”
“Yeah, we’ll see. Depends on the Japanese.” Olivia left the condo and pulled the door closed behind her.
Kendra suddenly felt very tired. Her eyes were stinging, but she couldn’t take them from the screen. Maybe just a couple more viewings …
“This is a bad idea. We need to get the hell out of here.”
“Why? When it’s all here.”
* * *
BUZZZ. BUZZZ.
Kendra jolted awake.
She checked her watch. 7:50 A.M.
She was still on the couch, and the video file had been playing all night on an endless loop. She had drifted in and out of consciousness, catching snatches of a song or an occasional few words from a toast swirling in her head like some kind of bizarre dream. But she felt no closer to solving the puzzle than she had the night before.
Buzzz. Buzzz. Buzzz.
It was her main door buzzer that had awakened her, she realized. It sounded more persistent now. Impatient.
Lynch. He favored three button presses when two failed to get an immediate response.
Buzzz. Buzzz. Buzzz.
She moved to the intercom and pressed the button. “If you didn’t bring coffee, I’m sending you away.”
“I brought coffee.” Lynch’s voice. “Come down and get it.”
“Why would I do that?” Kendra ran her hands through her messy hair. “I just woke up.”
“We’re going on a road trip.”
“Like hell I am.”
“Get down here, will you? I’m double-parked.”
“A road trip to where?”
“The country club where that wedding reception was held. The FBI tracked it down. If you want them to handle it on their own, it’s your choice. I just thought—”
“I’ll be down in three minutes.”
A change of clothes, a quick hair brushing, and a spritz of mouthwash later, Kendra stepped outside her building and climbed into Lynch’s Ferrari. She picked up the large coffee waiting for her in the cup holder.
“I’m surprised you didn’t let yourself up,” she said. “You still have that spare key, don’t you?”
Lynch shifted the car into gear and pulled away. “I do, but I didn’t want to abuse the privilege. You’re a woman who never likes to be taken for granted. Plus, I was double-parked and this car has a way of attracting the attention of San Diego’s finest.”
“I wonder why? It couldn’t be more ostentatious. Serves you right.”
“I tried calling you, but it went straight to voicemail.”
“Because my phone’s dead. That reminds me.” Kendra pulled her phone from her pocket, unplugged Lynch’s phone from the lighter socket, and inserted her own phone in its place.
Lynch glanced down at his phone. “I was charging that.”
“Then you should have two charging cables in here. I’m a guest in your car. Don’t be a rude host.”
“Hmm. I think there’s only one rude person in here.”
“Relax. I’ll plug yours back in as soon as I get a little juice.”
“So you say.”
Kendra took a swig of coffee. “So where are we going?”
“Via Pacifica Country Club in San Clemente. Your buddy Metcalf burned the midnight oil to track it down.”
“How’d he do it?”
“He took screen grabs of the place in the video and ran them through an online image recognition tool. Probably Google Image. He compared the hits with the reception hall in the video.”
“Score another one for social media.”
Lynch nodded. “I’m surprised Metcalf didn’t call you himself. He rarely misses an opportunity to try and impress you.”
“It’s not like that. Metcalf is very popular with the ladies.”
“Except for this lady. The one he really wants. And stop denying it. You know I’m right.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
She looked out the car window. “I’m surprised he called you. I didn’t think you and he were so tight.”
“We’re not. He has no idea I know.”
“Then how—?”
“I worked out of that office for years. As hard as it may be for you to believe, some of my old coworkers actually have some affection for me.”
“So much affection that they’re willing to commit a felony by handing over confidential details of an in-progress Federal investigation?”
“What’s a little jail time in the face of my blinding charisma?”
“I’m feeling a little ill.”
“In any case, I keep my sources private. Metcalf is meeting with the country club’s operations manager at 9:00 A.M. He won’t mind us crashing in. At least he won’t mind seeing you there.”
“So the FBI has no idea we’re joining them?”
“None whatsoever.” Lynch tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he pulled onto the I-5 freeway. “It’s more fun this way, don’t you think?”
* * *
EVEN WITH THE USUAL morning traffic, they made it to the upscale coastal town of San Clemente in under an hour. A few minutes after that, they pulled onto the sprawling grounds of the Via Pacifica Country Club, whose large logo signs featured the words GOLF-TENNIS-SWIM in bold gold lettering. They made their way to the large clubhouse and parked.
As they walked across the parking lot, Kendra gazed at the spectacular valley view. “Stunning. You can see why this would be a great place for weddings.”
“From what I hear, the golf isn’t bad either. I know a Secret Service agent who retired nearby after working on Nixon’s detail. He gets guest passes as a perk for doing occasional security work for them. They have quite the wealthy clientele here.”
He pulled open the tinted-glass door and motioned for Kendra to enter.
The foyer was striking, with Italian tile and two-story floor-to-ceiling windows. A cherrywood reception counter stood vacant in the center of the area and plaques and framed photographs covered the wood-paneled walls.
Kendra walked over and looked at the photographs. “Charity events, celebrity golf tournaments, even a movie wrap party.”
Lynch nodded approvingly at their surroundings. “I’d host a party here.”
“That’s what we like to hear!” A chipper voice sounded behind them.
Kendra and Lynch turned to see a small, blond woman entering from a doorway the foyer’s far end. She extended her hand. “Hannah Coltrane, events director. Beautiful here, isn’t it?”
Lynch smiled and took her hand into his own. “Extremely.”
Kendra couldn’t help rolling her eyes at his cheesy flirtation, but the woman obviously enjoyed it.
At that moment, the front door opened and Metcalf stepped in. He looked surprised to see Kendra and Lynch. “Oh, hello … Here for a round of golf?”
“Hardly,” Kendra said. “Good work on ID’ing this place from the video. You didn’t waste time.”
Metcalf shot Lynch a sour glance. “Good news travels fast.”
Hannah glanced from one to the other. “So … you’re not here to book an event?”
Lynch cocked his head toward her. “Go ahead, Metcalf. Do your thing with the badge.”
Metcalf flipped open his wallet and displayed his ID with all the flair and authority of a someone who had watched far too much television as a child. “Roland Metcalf, FBI. Are you Hannah?”
She took a step away from Lynch. “Yes. I was told to expect you, Agent Metcalf.”
“Good. I promise this won’t take long. Can we see your large event room?”
“Of course. Follow me.”
She led them down a short hallway Kendra recognized from a shot in the video of guests signing the guest book. They stepped through a pair of open double doors to find themselves in the large events room, which was filled with large round tables being set by a staff of about a dozen servers.
“We’re having a real estate awards luncheon here today,” Hannah said. “Sorry things are a bit hectic.”
“No problem,” Kendra said. She scanned the area, paying special attention to the carved pillars. “This is it, all right. The pillars, the doors, the carpet pattern…”
Kendra glanced around. It may have been the video’s subtle brainwashing while she slept, but every corner of the room now had a sound, tune, or speech associated with it.
“Liz, I thought we’d never get rid of you.”
“Chicken or fish?”
“Do you have vegetarian?”
“This is a bad idea.”
“We need to get the hell out of here.”
She turned back to Metcalf. “Definitely the place.”
Hannah looked quizzically at them. “If you don’t mind me asking…”
Metcalf raised his iPad and showed her frame grabs he’d made of the video. “There was a wedding reception here, probably sometime in the past couple of years.”
“Last fall,” Kendra interjected.
Metcalf turned back. “Really?”
“Yes. I checked the women’s clothing and shoes against the online catalogues. It was probably no later than last November.”
Metcalf nodded and turned his attention back to Hannah. “Okay. A wedding here last fall. Would you be able to tell us which one it was, based on these photos?”
Hannah looked doubtfully at the screen grabs. “We have so many events here. I’m afraid that—” Her eyes narrowed on one picture. “Wait.”
Kendra craned her neck to see. It was a photo that included the bride’s parents. “Do you know that man? He seemed familiar with the staff.”
Hannah bit her lip. “I wonder if I might take this to the general manager. He may know. That’s him over there.” She motioned toward a stocky man on the other side of the room. “I’ll be right back.”
She took Metcalf’s iPad across the room to a large oak bar where the general manager now stood looking down at his phone. He looked at the iPad screen, furrowed his brow, and said something to Hannah. He glanced up, curtly waved to the group, then left the room.
Hannah handed the iPad back to Metcalf. “I’m sorry, he didn’t recognize him.”
“But you seemed as if you might have.”
“I was mistaken. I’ve never seen him before.”
Lynch smiled. “I find that hard to believe. Just sixty seconds ago you registered a fairly strong reaction when you saw this man. Now you’re telling us—?”
“I’m telling you I don’t recall seeing him.” Hannah suddenly adopted a defensive tone and body language. “If you’d like to leave your information, I’ll see about putting together a list of our October and November weddings from last year.”
“How about just those paid for by John Hollingsworth?” Kendra said.
Hannah looked up with a start.
“Because we know that’s who he is.” Kendra lowered her voice. “And we know you and your manager both know it. Get us the contact information for him and anyone else connected with that wedding. And while you’re at it, you can also tell us why you and your boss thought you needed to lie and protect Hollingworth from an FBI investigation. That’s called obstruction of justice.”
A flash of panic crossed Hannah’s face. “It wasn’t my fault. My manager told me to say that. I’m sorry.”
Metcalf was clearly caught off guard by Kendra’s play, but he quickly jumped aboard. He rubbed his index finger over his lips, and Kendra discreetly nodded. She’d read the lips of Hannah and her boss from across the room. She had been fascinated by the interplay of tongue, lips, and teeth upon gaining her sight and lip reading was an interesting byproduct.
“Hollingsworth is a member?” he asked.
“A founding member. He’s on the board. I can’t believe he’d do anything wrong, but we always try to protect the privacy of our people.”
“Your people?” Lynch shook his head and strode toward the door.
Hannah practically chased after him. “Where are you going?”
“To talk to your GM. If he’s not on the horn to Hollingsworth yet, I’m betting he soon will be. Right?”
Lynch threw open the door to see the general manager standing just outside in the hallway. He was talking on his phone.
He eyed Lynch, Kendra, and Metcalf warily as he continued his conversation. After another moment, he extended his phone toward them. “It’s for you.”
“What?” Kendra asked.
“John Hollingsworth. That’s who you were asking about, wasn’t it?
Metcalf took the phone. “This is Special Agent Roland Metcalf. He listened for a moment. “Yes. Yes. Fine.”
Metcalf cut the connection.
“Well?” Kendra asked.
“Hollingsworth is here now.”
“In town?”
“No. Here here. Playing golf, believe it or not. He’s going to meet us at the bar near the ninth hole.” Metcalf handed the phone back to the manager. “Did you know?”
“Not at all. I was merely calling him as a courtesy to let him know you were asking about him.”
Lynch looked outside. “How do we get to the ninth hole bar?”
The manager made a sweeping motion toward the outer doors. “There’s a golf cart just outside. I’ll take you there myself.”
* * *
“CURB SERVICE. I love it!”
Kendra immediately recognized the bride’s father from the video. He now wore a white goatee on his broad face, and he was dressed in white slacks and a green plaid golf shirt. He stood in front of the open-air bar, where several other men were seated at square tables centered by umbrellas. He shook each of their hands. “John Hollingsworth, pleased to meet you.” He patted the manager on the back. “Thank you, Patrick.”
Patrick was obviously in no hurry to leave, but he took the hint and reluctantly climbed back in the golf cart. He still sat there for a long moment as Hollingsworth motioned for the investigators to join him at one of the outdoor tables several yards away.
“I would ask you to join me for a Bloody Mary, but seeing as you’re all on the clock…” Hollingsworth took a large swig of his drink. “Lovely day, isn’t it? I don’t believe I’ve ever had a visit from the FBI before. Now the SEC is a different matter. I’m certain you’ll be much more intriguing.”
Kendra couldn’t stand any more small talk. “Mr. Hollingsworth, does the name Elena Meyer mean anything to you?”
“No. Should it?”
Metcalf pulled up her photo on his tablet. Probably her driver’s license photo, Kendra guessed. “How about now?”
“Sorry.” Hollingsworth shrugged. “Pretty girl, though.”
“She’s dead.”
Hollingsworth looked up. “What?”
“She was killed the night before last on a street in downtown San Diego,” Kendra said. “Are you sure you don’t know her?”
Hollingsworth took a closer look at the photo. “Positive. That’s terrible. What makes you think that I—?”
Metcalf was already swiping his fingers across the tablet. “She was carrying a video. It may be what got her killed. Take a look.” He once again turned the tablet in Hollingsworth’s direction.
The man’s eyes widened. “That’s my daughter’s wedding reception.”
“Then is it possible your daughter knew the victim?” Kendra asked.
“I … don’t know. Even if she did, I’m almost positive this woman wasn’t at the wedding.”
“We don’t think she was either,” Kendra said. “But there was something about this video that was very important to her. We’re not sure what that could be. Do you think your daughter can help us?”
Hollingsworth seemed baffled. “I’m sure she’ll do whatever she can. But I have a feeling she’ll be as confused as I am.”
Metcalf pulled out his well-worn pocket notebook. “What’s your daughter’s name?
“Elizabeth. Elizabeth Gelson. She and her husband live in Escondido.”
“Where does she work?” Kendra asked.
“She works for a lab. Sennett Laboratories, downtown.”
“Is she there now?”
Hollingsworth pulled out his phone. “I can find out.” He punched a number and after a moment he spoke. “Elizabeth Gelson, please.”
A look of concern crossed his face as he listened. “This is her father. Do you know where I can find her?”
After another long moment he cut the connection.
“What is it?” Kendra asked.
“She hasn’t shown up yet. Her assistant said she’s actually missed a meeting and they haven’t been able to reach her.” He checked his watch. “She should have been there an hour and a half ago. I’ll try her cell.” He punched another number and listened. After a few moments, he put down his phone. “Voicemail. This isn’t like her.”
“Does she have a home phone?” Kendra asked.
“No. She and her husband just use their cells. I would call him, but he’s in China on business.” Hollingsworth stood up. He was still frowning. “Shit. Is there something you’re not telling me? Some reason I should be worried?”
“Nothing we know about,” Kendra said gently.
“You’d probably say that anyway. Why else are you here? For God’s sake, you just told me that some woman was murdered who had my daughter’s video. That’s not supposed to make me feel panicky? Liz is my only child.” Hollingsworth wiped perspiration from his upper lip. “I’m going to her house. I need to know she’s okay.”
Lynch got to his feet. “Mind if we follow you?”
Hollingsworth shrugged. “You’ll have to keep up. I plan on breaking every speed limit until I hear from her.”
“Not a problem,” Lynch said. “Let’s go.”
* * *
HOLLINGSWORTH WAS TRUE to his word as he led them on a thirty-minute ride to the suburb of Escondido that should have taken closer to forty. Lynch and Kendra followed close behind with Metcalf always within sight. Soon they rolled in front of a two-story stucco and clay-tile-roof home in a neighborhood of almost identical houses. They parked and met Hollingsworth in the driveway.
“I called her office three times from the road,” he said jerkily. “Still no sign of her. And she’s still not answering her cell.” He pointed to a white Toyota RAV 4. “That’s her car.”
“Maybe she just got back,” Metcalf offered.
Kendra shook her head. “No. We’d be hearing the clicking of engine parts dilating, like the sounds now coming from all our cars. This vehicle hasn’t been driven in a while.”
If Hollingsworth was already on edge, this sent him into a definite panic. He ran for the front porch, pounded on the door, and rang the doorbell. “Liz, honey? Liz? Liz!”
No answer.
Hollingsworth tried the knob. It was unlocked. He turned back to the others. “She always locks the door. Especially when Jeffrey isn’t home.”
Lynch and Metcalf both pulled out their handguns. “Stay here and let us clear the house, Mr. Hollingsworth,” Lynch said. “After we’ve checked it out, we’ll—”
Hollingsworth bolted inside.
“Or not,” Metcalf said dryly. He and Lynch charged in behind him with Kendra bringing up the rear.
The front door opened directly into the living room. Kendra glanced around. Nothing remarkable there. A nice home entertainment system, karaoke microphones, and a shelf loaded with games. The couple obviously liked to entertain. The room opened into a large kitchen. Unread mail on the counter, along with …
“Keys, mobile phone, and purse on the island,” Metcalf said.
Kendra flipped open a manila folder next to the personal items. “Notes for the morning meeting she didn’t attend.”
Hollingsworth swore and ran for the stairs, Lynch and Metcalf running after him with firearms still drawn.
Kendra paused on the steps before she followed them. She didn’t like this.
But after their quick tour of the garage, exercise room, master bedroom, and what appeared to be a nursery in the making, it was clear there was no one else in the house.
Hollingworth was gazing at the colorful animals stenciled on the nursery walls. “I didn’t know they were doing this yet. They didn’t tell me. Guess they want it to be a surprise.” He moistened his lips. “But where the hell is she?”
“Is there anyone in the neighborhood who could have seen something?” Metcalf asked.
“I don’t know their neighbors. Jeffrey and Liz never talked about them. Maybe…” Hollingsworth was becoming more visibly upset by the moment. “I just … don’t know.”
“It’s too early to start worrying,” Metcalf said soothingly. “There could be any one of a number of explanations. But I’ll get some personnel out here to start canvassing the neighbors. Maybe she’s just having coffee with one of them.”
Hollingsworth nodded. “I have to call her husband … He might know something. I’m not sure if his phone even works overseas.”
“Let’s do that outside,” Metcalf said. “I need to get some more information about your daughter.”
They walked downstairs and Metcalf and Hollingsworth stepped out the front door. Before Kendra could follow them, Lynch closed the door and then whirled back to face her.
“Okay, you’re too quiet,” he said curtly. “And I’ve seen that intent look on your face too many times to mistake it. You know something, don’t you? Something you didn’t want to say in front of her father.”
Lynch would realize that she had been trying to hide the fear and pity she had begun to feel as she’d walked through this house. He knew her so well he could almost read her mind, damn him. Kendra nodded slowly. “I do believe it might be good to question the neighbors. But not to see if she’s been over at one of their houses having a coffee klatch. Elizabeth Gelson was attacked and abducted here in her home this morning, sometime in just the past few hours. We need to look for a silver full-size van or SUV.”
Lynch stared at her. “A silver full-size— Okay, you’re going to have to walk me through this one.”
Kendra led Lynch back to the kitchen area. “It happened here. She was about to eat her breakfast when a person—or persons—barged in. There was a scuffle and they subdued her. They dragged her through this door to the garage and put her in the van, then quickly cleaned up in here. They didn’t want to arouse suspicion.”
Lynch smiled. “Interesting. Go on. You know how much I like watching you do your thing.”
“Can we not do this now?”
His smile disappeared as he saw her expression. “Sorry. Hey, I know these are always real people to you. I’m just a callous bastard who’s been at this so long I sometimes forget the human element and get intrigued by the process.” He wrinkled his nose. “It might be a form of self-protection. Go ahead. I’ll be good.”
“Good? That would be too much of a strain for you. But maybe you’re not so callous.” Kendra walked toward the kitchen dinette table. “There’s a sticky patch on the floor. I heard it when Metcalf stepped on it when we were here before.”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“Yes, you did. You just weren’t listening.”
“You keep telling me that and I still don’t believe you.”
“It’s true. You made the sound yourself less than thirty seconds ago when your left shoe stepped on the spot.” Kendra kneeled on the floor. “Orange juice residue. But there’s no dirt visible, so it obviously happened recently.”
“She could have just had a spill. No altercation necessary.”
“Her breakfast cereal was also all over this floor.”
“More sticky sounds?”
“No. A faint odor of sour milk, but not so sour that it’s been here for more than a couple hours. I picked it up as soon as we hit the front door. In the garage, there’s a damp mop with these very odors on it. And if you look along the baseboard, you’ll see broken shards that match the bowls and juice glasses on those shelves. There’s no liner in that trash can, leading me to believe that they took the pieces with them. This table was moved. Notice that it’s a little cockeyed, totally out of character with every other piece of furniture we’ve seen in this house.”
“Okay. Very good. But why a silver van?”
Kendra motioned for him to follow her out into the garage where she hit a switch that opened the large roll-up door. The bottom of the door stopped about a foot from the top.
“Just what I thought,” she said. “Not a problem for a normal-sized car, but it’s low enough to clip a van or SUV.”
“How do you know it was silver?”
“Look at the bottom of that door. It scraped some paint. Recently. That’s fresh. You can see it even with the garage door closed.”
“Well, maybe you can.”
“You saw it too. You just weren’t looking.”
He sighed. “Damn, I knew you were going to say that.”
Lynch walked over to the open garage door and inspected it. “You think they brought her out through the garage because it would be too easy to spot them otherwise?”
“With houses this close together, a weekday morning when people are heading out to work and school … The garage seems like the way to go, unless they’re willing to risk half a dozen 911 calls from neighbors. And since they took the time to clean the kitchen, it seems like they were trying to be careful.”
“I agree.” Lynch gazed at the silver paint. “We should get the forensics lab out here to take some scrapings. They might be able to match this paint to a specific make and model.”
Kendra stared at Metcalf and Hollingsworth at the end of the driveway. He was right. It was time to bring out forensics and put the full force of the FBI toward finding Hollingsworth’s daughter. She had just wanted to give him a chance to pull himself together before she told Metcalf that he’d have to tell Hollingsworth what she’d observed. Metcalf was a nice guy, he’d be gentle. But how could you tell a father that his life had changed when the FBI had driven up in a golf cart on this sunny day and asked a few questions that caused a darkness to appear on his horizon? “Why? Why did this happen? It’s too much of a coincidence. First Elena Meyer and now Elizabeth Gelson?” She shook her head in frustration. “And I’m still no closer to finding out who Elena Meyer was and why she died on that street trying to get to me.”
“You are closer,” Lynch said. “We don’t even know if Elizabeth Gelson is dead or not. A kidnapping isn’t murder so don’t bundle them together. And you’re not responsible for either one anyway. Stop being impatient. You’re just not seeing the big picture yet.”
She grimaced. “It sounds like you’re trying to use my words against me.”
“It’s the truth. You’ve already gathered a lot of pieces of the puzzle. Pieces no one else could have found. And I know we’ll find more.”
“We?” She turned toward him in surprise. “The FBI’s contracted you to work this case?”
He chuckled. “Oh, no. Griffin can’t afford to pay my rate just to work a homicide investigation.”
“Then why are you here?”
Lynch shrugged.
“Seriously,” she said. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be smuggling a scientist out of Russia or trying to ferret out a spy at some foreign embassy?”
He smiled. “Why would I want to do anything so boring when I could be here with you?”
She looked away from him. “You think I need a bodyguard?”
“Well, I haven’t shown you how to successfully break your attacker’s wrists yet.”
“I have Metcalf. He has a gun, you know.”
“Mine’s bigger.”
“Oh brother…”
“And I’m a much better shot than he is.”
“So that’s why you’re hanging around?”
Lynch smiled. “No.”
“Then why?”
“For someone with such remarkable powers of observation, you can be incredibly obtuse sometimes.”
“Ah. You want to stick around so you can bust my chops.”
“Well, I do thoroughly enjoy that.”
“Obviously. Anything else?”
“You called me,” he said simply. “It was too promising. Until I find out the real reason, I have to stick around and see if a promise can become reality. I’m betting it can.”
She was suddenly having trouble breathing. “Yeah, sure.”
He placed a finger under her chin and gently raised her head to face him. “So defensive. Who knows? I might have stayed with the Bureau forever if someone like you had been around to keep me entertained.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You have to work for yourself. You need the option of walking away when the higher-ups get too stupid or annoying.”
“True.” He paused. “But I’d never walk away from you.”
She couldn’t look away from him. That intensity and charisma was overpowering. He was totally enigmatic and she was never sure whether or not to believe him. But in this moment, she did believe him. Or was it only because she so desperately wanted to believe what he was saying to her? Either way it could be dangerous to her. There had to be a reason why she had walked away from him after that last case and buried herself in her work. She tore her gaze away from him. “Really? You’ll have to tell me how many times you’ve said that to a woman. Seeing that you’ve had practically a harem, it—”
Lynch’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
He grimaced. “I should know better than to mix business with the personal. I’ll discuss that nasty charge later.” He fished his phone out and read the screen. “Elena Meyer’s parents are flying in to claim her body this afternoon. Their flight lands at 4:15.”
She drew a deep breath. Of course she was grateful for the distraction. It was only the sudden absence of tension that made her feel this flat. “Who sent you that text?”
“Griffin. But he actually sent the text to Metcalf.”
“Then how did you—?” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, no. You hacked Metcalf’s phone.”
“Of course. It took me all of fifteen seconds as soon as we were within Bluetooth range of each other.” He nodded toward Metcalf, who was staring at his phone at the end of the driveway. “Oh, look. He’s getting the message now.”
“That little trick is going to get you arrested one day.”
“It already has. The president of Spain really doesn’t have a sense of humor where his privacy is concerned.”
“Metcalf should snap on the cuffs right now.”
“He’d never do it. Not if he wants your help.”
“You’re assuming I’d step in on your behalf.”
He asked softly, “Wouldn’t you?”
She didn’t look at him. “Depends on how charitable I was feeling.”
Metcalf walked toward them, leaving Hollingsworth at the end of the driveway. “Elena Meyer’s parents are flying in and they should—”
“Four-fifteen, we know,” Lynch said.
“How in the hell—?” Metcalf looked at the phone in Lynch’s hand. “Oh, man. Stop it. Right now.”
“Just my way of staying in the loop.”
“I’m already keeping you in the loop. Stay out of my phone, Lynch. Or I’ll have to—”
Kendra interrupted, “I want to speak to her parents,”
“So do we,” Metcalf said. “Trust me, it’ll happen even if we have to meet them at the medical examiner’s office.”
She grimaced. “That would be a fun place for the interview.”
“They just lost their daughter. It won’t be fun anyplace we do it.”
Kendra nodded as she took one last look around the house. Had she missed anything? “Keep me posted, will you?”
“You got someplace to be?”
“A group session back at my studio.” She glanced back at Hollingsworth in the driveway and felt another wave of sympathy as she saw the tension of his back and shoulders. The worst didn’t always happen, she told herself. Lynch was right, the fact that Elizabeth had been taken didn’t mean murder. But that wasn’t going to comfort this father whose daughter had disappeared for no apparent reason. And now it was time to forget about comfort and tell him the truth. She braced herself and turned back to Metcalf. “But before I go, let me tell you why you might want to get forensics out here right away, and definitely question those neighbors to see if they can tell you anything about a silver van or SUV…”