Night Watch

10

London, England

Docklands

RYE STOOD IN THE EMPTY LOT, staring at the acres of paved crumbling concrete. The air was damp from the predawn mist, and the sky was beginning to lighten in the east.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He tapped his Bluetooth earpiece to answer.

“Lynch?”

“Yes. Sorry I couldn’t pick up before, Rye. I was talking to someone. You’re up awful late… or is it early?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Something was bothering me. The more I looked into Waldridge’s work history, the less it added up.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s given the same work address on at least three official documents in the past couple of years. Hyperion Laboratories, Limited.”

“Hyperion?”

“Yes. The late Mr. Shaw also listed it as his place of employment at an academic conference last year. It’s somehow related to the Night Watch Project.”

“Okay… So why doesn’t it add up?”

“I’m at the address right now… and it’s a vacant lot.”

“What?”

Rye stepped over a clump of weeds that had burst through a crack in the concrete. “There was a building here once, but it’s probably been twenty years or more. No one’s worked here for decades.”

“What does it mean?”

“Don’t know yet. I looked it up on Google Earth, and I thought it must be some kind of mistake. So I came down to see for myself. Not much to see.”

“I hate to repeat myself, but I don’t understand what the hell that means.”

“Me neither. I just thought it was curious, and you might want to be informed. I’ll talk to some more people and try to get it sorted out.”

“Good. While you’re at it, I have another name for you to check out. Hayden Biers. Yet another colleague of Waldridge’s. He also came here to California, and it seems as if all three men may have come here to hide out.”

“Hide from what?”

“As soon as you find out, let me know.”

“Pressure, again.” He sighed. “I’ll do my best. I’m not going to find it in this vacant lot, that’s for sure.”

“What’s your next move?”

Rye checked his watch. “A fine breakfast and a cup of tea. After that, Shaw’s widow lives in Covent Garden. If she hasn’t been notified already, she should get the news of her husband’s death in the next couple of hours. I’ll go over and talk to her around the time she should be getting up.”

“Seriously? Sure you don’t want to wait on that?”

“Positive. She’ll be numb. In shock. Not quite sure which way is up. In my experience, people can be very forthcoming when they’ve been knocked off-balance.”

“And people call me, the Puppetmaster. Go easy on her, Rye.”

“Worry not, my friend. I can be quite a comforting presence when the occasion demands it. I’ll let you know what I find out.” Rye cut the connection.

Lynch could be something of an enigma, he thought. Considering his background, he hadn’t expected him to caution him about hurting that woman. He usually displayed no emotion and just got the job done. It just went to show that it was a vast world filled with multifaceted people. Which, except for his books, made it the only thing bearable.

Together with the unique puzzles that occasionally were brought for him to solve. He must not forget that spur, and Lynch was adept at furnishing him with that particular stimulation.

He would have to be very clever and innovative and give Lynch something for his trouble…

“MAY I HELP YOU?”

The sixtyish woman stood in the front doorway of a charming flat on Monmouth Street. She was attractive, well dressed, and didn’t seem to have a care in the world aside from the stranger on her front stoop.

Rye studied her face. Her eyes weren’t red, and the mascara wasn’t running. This wasn’t right.

“Madeleine Shaw?”

“Yes.”

“Wife of Dr. Porter Shaw?”

“Yes.”

She appeared almost… chipper.

Had she not been notified yet? Awkward.

He hesitated. “Has someone… spoken to you this morning?”

“About what?”

Oh, Lord. He was going to be stuck with giving her the news.

“My husband?” she offered.

“Yes. You received some notification this morning?”

For the first time, a bit of stress lined her face. But only a bit. “Yes. He passed away.”

“Were you told of the circumstances?”

“I was.” Her expression still wasn’t troubled. Curious, but not troubled. “And may I ask what business it is of yours?”

“My name is Ryan Malone. I’m working with the American authorities on the case. Two of your husband’s colleagues were also in California. They’ve gone missing. I know it’s a devastating time for you, but I wondered if I might-”

“Of course. Come in.” The chipper voice and attitude were back. She opened the door wide for him to enter. “I was just having tea. Would you like some?”

“Thank you.”

So much for not knowing which way was up.

He followed her through the narrow but tastefully decorated home back to a sunroom. She gestured for him to sit in one of the two white, wooden chairs. She had already started pouring his tea by the time he was seated.

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said. “You and your husband made a beautiful home for yourselves.”

“He had nothing to do with it. I think he liked our home well enough, when he cared to notice. But it’s certainly nothing he ever cared to weigh in on.”

“I see.” This was going down a far-too-static path. Time to stir it up a little. “Pardon me for saying so, but you seem to be taking your husband’s demise incredibly well.”

She picked up her teacup and gazed at the garden outside. “I can see it does seem that way.” She shrugged. “He left me a long time ago in spirit. It’s the old cliché, I suppose. The man whose passion was his work.”

“Really? And how long has it been that way?”

“Always, if I’m honest with myself. Even when we met, it’s what attracted me to him. I thought it would be enough if just a little bit of that fire and intensity was thrown in my direction. It never was, not really.” She looked up. “I’m sorry. You’re not really interested in all this. It’s been a confusing morning. I guess I’m still in shock. I haven’t even told anyone yet. He has a sister in Leeds who really needs to know, but I’m still… processing.”

“I understand.”

“So how can I help you?”

Rye leaned forward in his chair. “Tell me why your husband was in the United States.”

“Work. He was always traveling someplace. And even when he was here, he wasn’t here, if you know what I mean.”

“Was there anything unusual about this particular trip?”

She nodded. “Actually, yes. For one thing, he’d told me he was going to Chicago. He never mentioned California.”

“Odd. Are you certain?”

“Positive. I didn’t know he was there until this morning, when I was told that he was dead. But there was something even stranger… He left his phone here.”

“He forgot it?”

“I thought so at first. But he never went anywhere without it, not even the corner store.” She shook her head. “Who does in this day and age? We all live with our phones. He called twice in the three weeks he was gone, each time from a different disposable phone he’d purchased. I offered to send him his own phone, but he didn’t want it. He was very specific. He didn’t want me to power it on or even charge it.”

“Interesting.”

“I handle all the finances, and I can tell you he didn’t use a credit card or cash-machine card since he’s been gone. He withdrew several thousand pounds before he left, and I suppose he’d been getting by on that.” She grimaced. “Which also kept me from knowing where he was.”

“And kept anyone else from knowing,” Rye said. “Tell me, what exactly was your husband working on?”

“To be honest, I have no idea. He wasn’t very forthcoming. He’d been very excited, but his mood had soured in the past couple of months.” She shook her head. “And heaven forbid he explain himself to me. I was only his wife.”

“In what way had his mood soured?”

“In almost every way you can imagine. Sometimes depressed, sometimes angry, sometimes frustrated. Not an unusual range of emotions for a researcher struggling to solve a problem, but this has been worse. Much worse.”

“Hmm. Can you tell me anything about his colleagues? People he might have been working with in the last months of his life?”

“Well, there was Charles Waldridge. Porter worshipped him. He thought the man was a genius. I should probably try to contact him.”

Rye hesitated, wondering if he should tell her about Waldridge’s disappearance. He decided against it. “Anyone else?”

Her lips twisted. “No one he ever discussed with me.”

“Did you ever visit his lab?”

“Heavens, no. It was in the Docklands near the fish market, I think.”

“Near Canary Wharf?”

“Yes.”

“I was just there. It’s a vacant lot.”

“What?”

“No lab. Just an empty lot. It’s been that way for quite some time. Could there have been someplace else?”

Her face was frozen in utter bewilderment. She shook her head.

“Did he drive to work?”

She nodded.

“I wonder if you might let me look in his car. Is it here?”

She motioned out the sunroom windows toward a freestanding garage on the other side of the small backyard. “It’s in there. It hasn’t been driven since he left.”

“Would you mind? It could be very helpful.”

She didn’t speak for a moment. “Isn’t it silly? I think I’m dreading looking at it. I’m used to thinking of him in this house. It will be different with the car, perhaps a bit jarring…” She finally put down her teacup. “Certainly. I’ll get the keys.”

After a few moments rustling through an overstuffed kitchen drawer, Madeleine found her husband’s spare keys and led Rye out to the detached garage, where a silver Mercedes SL shared space with an MG Mini.

“The Mercedes is his. Was his.” She paused. Her voice was the slightest bit unsteady as she added, “Still doesn’t feel right to say it that way. I guess I’ll get better at it.”

He held out his hand for the key. “May I?”

She used the key’s remote button to unlock the car, then she handed it to him.

Rye slid behind the wheel and surveyed the vehicle’s interior. Immaculate.

He started the car. The engine roared to life, and the touch screen lit up the dark interior. Rye tapped the screen and cycled through the GPS map screens until he found the navigation app’s driving history.

The passenger door opened, and Madeleine leaned in. “Any luck?”

“Maybe.” He pointed toward the screen. “Do you recognize this address? It’s on Scarbrook Road in Croyden. Looks like he went there almost every day.”

Madeleine’s eyes narrowed on the screen. “Croyden? No. Not at all. It’s not a place he ever mentioned going.”

Rye took a photo of the screen with his phone. “I don’t like to ask this, especially in light what’s happened today…” There was no delicate way to ask this question. “But I can’t help but wonder, since your husband was regularly going someplace without your knowledge, if perhaps…”

“You want to know if my husband was having an affair,” she said quietly.

“Yes.”

“The answer is no.” She swallowed hard and looked away from him. “Among other reasons, I honestly don’t think he would’ve made that kind of time for it. Believe me, this was about his work.”

“I do believe you.” He avoided looking at her as he cycled through several more destinations on the touch screen. He snapped photos of a few of the other recurring entries, but none appeared with anything near the frequency of the Croyden address.

He cut the engine and turned toward Madeleine.

Tears were now running down her cheeks.

The mask was off.

“I’m very sorry,” he whispered.

“So am I.” Her eyes were glittering tears. “I loved him, you know. I wanted to make him happy. All these years of loneliness… I didn’t take my first lover for over fifteen years. I was careful. I didn’t want to hurt Porter.” Her lips twisted. “I didn’t have to worry. He wasn’t interested.” She met his eyes. “But in the end, I realized it’s what I felt, not what he felt. If you truly love someone, then you accept who they are and still want the best for them.” Her voice was low and uneven, but rang with sincerity. “And I wish with my whole heart that Croyden address belonged to a woman who could give him what I couldn’t.”

“You’re a very wise and generous woman,” he said gently. “I’ll find out what happened to your husband, I promise.”

“Thank you. I believe it will help to know.”

She took the key and slammed the door closed.

San Diego

6:50 A.M.

THIS IS YOUR WOULD-BE KIDNAPPER .

Kendra had been jolted wide awake by her buzzing phone. It signaled a one-sentence text message from Griffin.

The phone buzzed again.

LOOK FAMILIAR?

She scrolled to see that he’d included a photo. It was a man with a broad face, close-cropped brown hair, and penetrating eyes.

Those eyes…

MEET WALLACE DEAN POWERS.

Her bedroom door flew open. Lynch, wearing only a pair of black lounge shorts, held his phone in front of him. “Griffin included me on the text. They must have gotten a DNA hit on the skin cells from under your fingernails.”

Her phone rang and the caller ID screen lit up with a most unflattering picture of Griffin. Kendra had gleefully snapped it when he was scratching his lip, but it looked more like he was picking his nose. She swiped to answer, leaving it in front of her in speaker mode. “That’s one of the guys, Griffin. He tried to grab me. I know those eyes.”

“Good. Unfortunately, we didn’t get a hit off the other guy you mauled.”

“I wish I’d mauled them. This man’s skin was under my left nails, wasn’t it?”

After a clicking of keyboard keys, he replied. “Yes, left.”

“I knew it. That’s the second man. Deeper voice, maybe from the Midwest.”

“Very good. He did some jail time for a domestic abuse charge about four years ago, committed in Missouri. That’s why his DNA was in the system.”

Kendra looked at the man’s photo on her phone. “And his name is Wallace Dean Powers… Anything else?”

“He lives in Downey. He’s an unemployed high-school physical education instructor.”

“He’s a gym coach?” Lynch asked.

“That’s our best information.”

“Well, I guess thugs have to come from somewhere,” Kendra said. “It’s not like you can pick up the phone and call Henchmen-R-Us.”

“Hmm, you’ve just given me an excellent idea what to do with my retirement years,” Lynch said. “Griffin, do we know anything else about this wife-beating jock?”

“Very little. No prior associations, no clue who he might be working with now. But I’m hoping that we can ask him ourselves in the next couple hours.”

“You’re bringing him in?”

“Yes. We’re coordinating with Downey PD as I speak. I’ll text you directions to our staging area in the neighborhood. If you want in, meet us there at 9:15 A.M.”

“We want in,” Kendra said as she jumped out of bed. “See you there.”

Downey, California

9:15 A.M.

Kendra and Lynch arrived at the large office parking lot adjacent to the Downey Pizza Co. restaurant on Florence Avenue, where three squad cars were waiting with flashers on.

FBI Special Agent Metcalf climbed out of his car a few feet away. “Damnedest way to ID a suspect I’ve ever seen.”

Kendra wriggled her fingers. “Your lab deserves all the credit. I just collected the samples.”

“Remind me to keep my distance from those talons of yours, okay?”

“What’s the plan?” Lynch asked.

Metcalf folded his arms in front of him. “We just placed a call to his residence, posing as a solar-panel company. He’s home. Two detectives are keeping an eye on the house while we prepare to move in. We need you to keep your distance until we have him. Then maybe you can come over, look at his build, listen to his voice, and see if you can confirm.”

“I’ve seen his eyes in the photo. That plus his DNA is confirmation enough. But I’ll check him out to make sure.”

Metcalf nodded to a uniformed officer who was obviously in charge, who in turn signaled to the officers in the patrol cars. He turned to Kendra and Lynch. “Okay, follow us. I’ll signal you at the top of his block to pull over.”

Lynch nodded. “Got it.”

They caravanned to a residential street just three blocks south of the staging area. Metcalf, riding behind the squad cars, stopped just long enough to signal Kendra and Lynch before continuing.

Lynch pulled over, and they watched the three squad cars and Metcalf’s vehicle continue down the block.

Kendra glanced over at Lynch. “It’s killing you, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Not being down there in the thick of it.”

Lynch stared at the cars speeding down the block. “One reason I prefer to work alone. I’m much more comfortable when I get to make the rules.”

“That makes two of us even though I don’t have a strong desire to break down doors with an automatic weapon in my hand.” She added, “That must be a guy thing.”

“You’re taunting me. Now I need to be down there.”

“They’ll have him in just a couple of minutes,” she said soothingly.

Lynch leaned back in his seat. “It’s just as well. After what that guy tried to do to you, I probably would have beaten him senseless. That would have been most counterproductive.”

“You think?”

Lynch pointed to the cars spinning to a stop in front of a house halfway down the block. “They’re moving in.”

Kendra found herself holding her breath as she waited for some sign that they had the man who had tried to abduct her.

Could he lead them to Waldridge?

Chill out. One step at a time.

Get him first, then worry about-

Buzzz!

She lifted her phone. It was a text from Metcalf.

NO GO. HOUSE EMPTY.

“Shit.”

Before she even knew Lynch had seen the message, the car roared to life and the wheels spun on the pavement.

“What are you doing?”

Lynch shifted gears and sped down the street. “He slipped out after they called. He knew they were onto him.”

“But there were detectives watching the house.”

“He might have crawled through a neighbor’s yard. Who knows? However he gave them the slip, we don’t have time to poke around and figure it out right now. Keep your eyes peeled. He’s got to be close by.”

They roared by the police cars and turned at the corner to circle the block. There were few people to be seen; two kids playing, a landscape crew cutting grass, a man in a track suit jogging with his dog.

“He might have had a car parked on the street,” Kendra said.

“In which case he could be miles away by now. But let’s exhaust all of our other possibilities while we still can. He might be in one of these backyards, in a toolshed, or a barbecue island.”

“… or pretending to be a landscape worker,” Kendra said.

“What?”

“Turn around!”

Lynch spun out and gunned the engine as they faced the direction from which they’d just come. Kendra pointed to the landscape crew. “Check out the guy kneeling by the gardenia bushes. The one in the white shirt and baseball cap.”

“I see him. He looks like pretty much everyone else on the crew.”

“His jeans are the only ones that aren’t grass-stained. Also, no perspiration on the back of his shirt.”

The man looked up and locked eyes with her.

“That’s him!” Kendra said.

Powers jumped to his feet and bolted toward the backyard.

Kendra unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door. “Stop the car!”

“For what?”

“I’m going after him. You circle the block and try to cut him off.”

Lynch hit the brakes. “And if you catch him?”

“We’ll beat the hell out of each other until the cavalry arrives. You’re the cavalry. So get your ass in gear.”

Before he could object, she jumped out of the car and took off running.

The landscape crew stopped their work and stared as she ran past them and bolted down the side of the house. She bent over and grabbed a shovel as she ran, barely breaking stride.

Powers had pushed through the gate and was making for the back fence. He was a big man, probably not the most agile. Maybe she could catch him before he made it over.

He gripped the top of the wrought-iron fence and swung his leg up. A miss. He tried again. Another miss.

She extended the shovel before her, aiming the blade for his lower back.

This is going to hurt, buddy.

But with a burst of energy, he managed to swing his leg up and catapult himself over the fence.

Dammit.

He landed on his feet and was already running through the opposite yard by the time she got within striking distance. She threw down the shovel and climbed up and over the fence.

By the time she made it over, he was already sprinting down the side yard toward the street beyond.

Good. With any luck, Lynch and maybe half the Downey PD would soon be on top of him.

She ran down the side yard and emerged on the street beyond.

What the hell…

The man had vanished.

She glanced around. She suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. He could strike from any direction, especially since he now knew she was alone.

Where the hell could he be?

Maybe on one of the porches.

In the tall shrubs to her right.

In between some cars on the street.

He was inside one of the cars, she realized. Which one?

Powers’s head bobbed up in the driver-side window of a Dodge SUV. Either he owned it or he’d just completed the fastest hotwire job she’d ever seen.

The tires spun hard against the pavement, and the SUV rocketed down the street.

Shit!

She heard a familiar roar and turned to see Lynch’s Ferrari rounding the corner. The cavalry was here. She yelled and pointed at the SUV. “That’s him!”

He nodded and sped after Powers.

She stared dumbfounded at his Ferrari as it roared away. She’d expected Lynch to stop long enough for her to jump in, but of course it made more sense to stay on Powers’s tail and not risk losing him.

Fine. She’d make her way back to Powers’s house and see if there was anything there she could-

Another familiar roar. Behind her.

Jessie Mercado’s motorcycle rolled up and screeched to a stop just inches away. Jessie flipped up her visor to reveal those huge dark eyes and a broad smile. “Need a lift?”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Even though I’m a little annoyed with you right now. I thought we were working together.”

“I really didn’t know that-”

“Relax. Just kidding. There’s a helmet strapped to the back. Take it and hop on. Hurry!”

Kendra put on the helmet and threw her leg over the seat of Jessie’s motorcycle.

“Ready?” Jessie asked.

Before Kendra could reply, Jessie squeezed back the throttle and rocketed down the street.

Kendra leaned around Jessie to see that Lynch’s and Powers’s cars were still within sight.

Jessie shouted over her engine. “Are we chasing one of the guys I put down the other night?”

Kendra shouted back. “Yes, the one who dragged me into the office.”

“He pissed his pants, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good! I’d love another crack at him.” Jessie put on another burst of speed.

Up ahead, Powers turned right, almost taking out a streetlight pole as he went wide on the busy cross street. They were heading deep into a congested retail district, with four lanes of traffic and traffic lights stretching to infinity.

“Hang on!” Jessie shouted.

She took a hard right turn into the intersection. Lynch was now only a few yards ahead. Powers was half a block beyond him, weaving in and out of traffic.

“Wave to your friend,” Jessie shouted.

While Kendra was still trying to figure out what she meant, Jessie passed Lynch on the left. Kendra smiled. She didn’t have to be a skilled lip-reader to pick up the curses tumbling out of Lynch’s mouth.

With another burst of speed, Lynch was behind them. Kendra looked forward. They were now nimbly weaving between the few cars that separated them from Powers.

Almost there…

Dozens of taillights flashed, and Kendra realized they were approaching a stoplight. Powers turned left into the lanes of oncoming traffic, where he narrowly missed a pickup truck and a Lexus convertible.

To Kendra’s horror, Jessie stayed on his tail, dodging the same vehicles. Kendra wanted to look away, but she felt compelled to watch as if that would somehow stave off a deadly collision.

Powers turned left at the next intersection, where Jessie hurtled through and shortened the gap.

“What’s your plan?” Kendra gasped.

“Keep the pressure on until he crashes,” she said calmly.

“Or until we do.”

“I’m way better than he is.”

“Modest. I like it… I think.”

“Hang tight. I’m going to try something.”

Jessie gunned the engine and drew alongside Powers’s car.

Powers glared at them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel and sweat poured from his face. Jessie was right, Kendra realized. The man wasn’t comfortable in a high-speed pursuit. He abruptly pulled the wheel, in an attempt to hit them, but Jessie sped past and cut in front of the SUV.

He bore down on them. Kendra could hear his engine roaring in her ears.

“Uh, Jessie…”

“I see him. I need you to reach into my right jacket pocket.”

“What?”

“I have some ball bearings in there. Reach in and grab a few.”

Kendra reached into the pocket of Jessie’s leather jacket and pulled out a handful of shiny little orbs. “Who rides around town with ball bearings in their pockets?”

“I do. Now throw them at his windshield as hard as you can. Aim for the driver’s side. Do it!”

Kendra hurled the metal balls with all the force she could muster.

Contact!

Kendra glanced back to see that three of the ball bearings had made contact with the windshield, creating webs of cracked glass in Powers’s field of vision.

The car swerved erratically.

Jessie fell back alongside the SUV long enough to grab another ball bearing from her pocket and hurl it into the driver’s side window, shattering it completely. Again the SUV swerved crazily.

They dropped farther back until they were once again following the SUV. Kendra looked behind her to see that Lynch had caught up. He was talking, she realized, communicating their location to the police.

Jessie beeped her high-pitched horn several times. Powers glanced back, and Kendra could see that he had a fine mist of blood on the side of his face. Likely a casualty of the shattered driver’s side window.

Jessie beeped again.

Kendra thought she was doing it to rattle Powers, but she quickly saw that it was a warning for a supermarket delivery truck slowly pulling out of the alleyway ahead.

Powers saw it an instant later. He swerved to avoid the truck, but overcompensated and jumped onto the sidewalk. He tried to correct his course, but it was too late. He plowed into the brick wall of a diaper factory.

Jessie winced. “That’s gotta hurt.”

They circled the smoldering wreck as Lynch stopped and climbed out of his car.

He looked at the wreck. “How is he?”

“Still breathing,” Jessie said. She and Kendra dismounted the cycle. Powers was slumped in his smashed car, partially covered by an airbag. He moaned in pain.

Jessie reached in and pulled the airbag forward, revealing Powers’s swollen and bloody face. “He’s not going to be winning any beauty contests anytime soon, but he’ll survive.”

Police sirens wailed in the distance.

“I called them in,” Lynch said. “They’ll be here in under a minute.”

Jessie leaned down to face Powers. “Where’s Waldridge?”

He wrinkled his brow. “Who?”

“Dr. Charles Waldridge. Thin British guy, late forties. Where is he?”

“Can’t help you.”

Jessie jerked her thumb toward Kendra. “Then why did you try to kidnap her the other night?”

He glanced at Kendra before looking away. “Didn’t… have a choice.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He closed his eyes. “I’m not saying another damn word.”

Lynch stepped forward and placed his hand gently on Powers’s shoulder. “You’re pretty beat-up. Where does it hurt. Here?”

“Yeah.”

Lynch squeezed his shoulder.

“Aaah!” Powers cried out.

Lynch squeezed harder. “I suggest you tell these ladies what they need to know.”

“I… can’t…”

“Sure you can.” He applied more pressure on the shoulder.

“Aaah! Shit!”

Kendra flinched at the sheer agony in his voice. She braced herself, tensed, then leaned in closer. “We know it was you who tried to take me the other night. Why?”

He gasped. “I can’t say any more.”

Lynch squeezed his shoulder again.

“Owww!” Powers grimaced. “Keep it up, and I’m gonna pass out. Then you won’t get anything from me.”

“We’re not getting anything from you now,” Kendra said. “And I have to say, I’m really enjoying this,” she lied.

“I’ll bet you are, you b-owww!” He looked up at Lynch. “I’ll have you brought up on police brutality charges.”

Lynch smiled malevolently. “I’m not the police. Just a concerned citizen who’s extremely annoyed with you for what you did to my friend.” He slowly increased the pressure on Powers’s shoulder. “And if you think you’re hurting now, what do you think of this? It’s all in the fingers…”

Powers eyes bulged, and he let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Lynch released his shoulder. “Just a little sample. So tell us why you tried to kidnap my friend here.”

Sweat rained down Powers’s face. “We weren’t going to hurt her. We just had to bring her there. They told us they needed her. I promise.”

“Where were you taking her?” Lynch asked.

He shook his head. “Do whatever you want, but I can’t say any more. My life is at stake here.”

“Your life?” Kendra said.

“Yeah.” He was pale and shaking. “Excuse me, if I don’t feel like dying.”

Kendra’s eyes narrowed on him. “Who are you working for?”

He stared at her for a long moment. “For your sake, I hope you never have to find out. But you probably will, they want you real bad.”

“Who? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not another word.” He looked at Lynch. “Do whatever you want with me.” He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw squad cars coming down the street. “I’m not talking.”

“No?” Lynch smiled. “I’d barely started. Those time restraints really hampered me. Oh, well, there will be another time.”

Behind them, the four squad cars and Metcalf’s car rolled up. The police cars cut their sirens, but the flashers stayed on.

Lynch called out to them. “Get a paramedic unit out here. This man needs a hospital.”

Metcalf jumped out of his car and ran up to them. “Is it him?”

Kendra nodded. “Yes, but he’s not overly talkative. I need to know everything about him we can find out.”

“We have cops swarming through his house, and we’ll subpoena phone records.”

“Good.” She turned back to Powers. She tensed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “One last question. Is Dr. Waldridge still alive?”

Powers didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and slowly leaned back against the headrest.

No use, she realized in frustration as she turned away from him.

Fifteen minutes later Kendra and Lynch watched the ambulance drive off down the street.

“I’m out of here.” Jessie strode toward her bike. “I’ll see you at Powers’s place.” She glanced over her shoulder at Kendra with a mischievous grin. “I suppose you’re going to opt for riding with Lynch in that opulent jalopy, but you’re welcome to come with me. I bet you’d have more fun.”

“But I wouldn’t,” Lynch said firmly. “I’ve had enough for one day of wondering whether I’m going to have to peel her remains off a truck or light pole.” He took Kendra’s elbow and led her firmly toward the Ferrari. “She might have fun, but it will take me the entire trip to Powers’s to recover.”

“Poor Lynch. I can see what a delicate creature you are.” Jessie laughed and roared off.

Lynch waited until they were back on the freeway before he glanced at Kendra. “I didn’t think. Did I offend your precious independence?”

“If you had, I wouldn’t have let you push me into this car. I was ready for your ‘opulent jalopy.’ I need to get my breath.” She leaned back against the leather headrest. “In more ways than one.”

He nodded. “That was a wild ride. Jessie is… unique.” His gaze narrowed on her face. “Was it ‘fun?’”

“Yes. And exciting. And scary. It brought back a lot of memories.”

“What kind of memories?”

“Back to the time when I took as many chances as Jessie. In all kinds of ways.” She smiled. “But I was never as good as she is on that motorcycle. Of course, I could go back to it and see if-”

“No!” He paused. “You’ll do what you please, of course. But I’d appreciate it if you don’t do it around me. It was an experience I prefer not to repeat.” He smiled. “Jessie’s right. I’m such a delicate creature.”

“Yeah, sure.” She looked away from him. “So delicate that you’re one of the reasons I have to get my breath and recover.”

“Powers? I had to get the information, and we didn’t have much time.” He paused. “He hurt you. He might have been planning to kill you.”

“That’s not what he said. But he could have been lying. I don’t know what reason anyone would hire someone to kidnap me.”

“We’ll find out. What’s important was that I wasn’t there to help you that day. But I was here today.”

“Oh yes, you were here all right.”

“Look at me.” When her gaze shifted to meet his own, he said, “You know what I am. What I do. Any way I can. I’ll never say I’m sorry. I’d do it again.”

“Do you think I’m blaming you? I don’t have the right to ask you to say you’re sorry. I didn’t stop you. I didn’t even try.” She moistened her lips. “I even helped you. What does that make me? There’s so much damn pain in the world. I hate it.”

“I know you do,” he said quietly. “And I knew there would be a payoff after today. You… surprised me.”

“He knows where Waldridge is. We have to find him, Lynch.”

He nodded. “Anything for the good doctor. I could almost envy him.”

“Envy? We’ll be lucky to find him before they kill him.”

“I misspoke.” He covered her hand with his own. “We won’t be lucky, we’ll be smart. And we’ll be fast.” He pulled off the freeway. “But right now we’ll stop by Starbucks and pick up a couple of cups of coffee. You could probably use the caffeine now that you don’t have Jessie here to cause your adrenaline to spike…”