Night Watch

2

St. Bartholomew’s Hospital

London

Nine Years Earlier

“IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU, Kendra. I’m-”

“Dr. Charles Waldridge.” Kendra crossed her arms before her and placed them on the small conference table. “I know. How do you do, Dr. Waldridge.”

Waldridge closed the door behind him. “How do you know who I am? We’ve never met before, have we?”

“No. I listened to one of your lectures on YouTube. Even before you just spoke, I recognized you from your footsteps. And from the jingle of keys in your pocket. You have some kind of charm on your key ring that makes a tinkling sound when you walk.”

“Very good. It’s a little souvenir dolphin my niece brought me from Grand Cayman.”

“You also like to rock back on your heels every time you make a major point.”

“You could hear that on the video?” he asked, amused.

Kendra adjusted her Ray-Ban sunglasses. “Yes. You did it eight times in a fifty-minute lecture.”

He sat in a chair on the other side of the desk from her. “Hmm. I didn’t realize I did that. Is it effective?”

“I’m not sure what it looks like, but those pauses work for you. It gives your students time to think about what you’ve just told them.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“I know you’re British, but I’m not familiar enough with the various accents to know exactly from where. It’s my first time in England. But I do know you have a small dog.”

“You’re wrong about that I’m afraid.”

“Really?”

“You’re not accustomed to being wrong, are you?”

“It happens.”

“Well, you’re not that far off. I’m looking after a colleague’s dog this week. Am I giving off an offending canine odor?”

“No, it’s nice. Oster flea and tick shampoo.”

“And how did you know the dog was small?”

“Mandarin Violet scent. I’m sure there are owners who use that on big dogs, but I’ve never met one.”

He chuckled. “It’s a poodle.”

“That sounds about right.”

He opened a file folder and turned the pages. “So… You’re nineteen years old?”

“Twenty next week.”

“And you’ve been blind since birth.” He spent another moment flipping through the file pages before resuming. “Just so you know, I’m meeting with you as a courtesy. Our pilot program is filled. We had thousands of applicants. If you had called or e-mailed, I could have saved you and your mother an awfully long trip.”

“My mother called and e-mailed. She already knew it was full.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My mother never takes no for an answer.”

“I got that impression. I know she wants this, but I’m not sure you want it, Kendra.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your tone. Most people I interviewed for this program practically begged to be part of it. You seem as if it’s an inconvenience.”

“Wanting it and believing it are two different things. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it, if that’s my role in making this work. But don’t expect me not to take this with a grain of salt. My entire life I’ve met a lot of doctors, scientists, and con artists who promised to make me see. My mother has been on a mission.”

“How does that make you feel?”

Kendra bit her lower lip.

Waldridge leaned forward, and asked quietly, “Like you’re not good enough for her the way you are?”

Kendra recoiled. “No. Why would you think that?”

“I’ve seen it a lot in the past few months.”

“Well, that’s not the case here. My mother’s just trying to help. She’s the one who is going to be hurt the most if she can’t pull this off. She doesn’t care if she ruffles a few feathers as long as she’s doing everything she can for me. Me,” she repeated fiercely. “It’s all for me. She wants the best for me. Nothing for herself.”

“Did your father feel the same way?”

“No. I never knew him. He left before I was two. He wasn’t prepared to care for a special-needs child.”

“That’s also more common than you might think.”

“It doesn’t matter. My mother and I have always gotten along fine without him.”

“I believe that.” Waldridge paused. “I’m not promising anything to anyone. Anyone who does is either a con artist or a fool. I’m neither. But I do think I offer the best hope you’ve had so far.” He paused. “If I were standing, I suppose this would be one of those moments where I lean back on my heels for emphasis.”

She found herself smiling. She hadn’t expected him to have a sense of humor. Most of the specialists who had examined her before had tended to have a God complex.

He turned more pages of the file. “You’re actually just the type of test subject we were looking for. Your corneas degenerated due to a disease you contracted in the womb. We’re experimenting with a technique to help corneas regenerate.”

“How?”

“It’s fairly simple. We combine stem cells with cells that we harvest from healthy parts of the subject’s own eyes. We implant them in the corneas and we have hopes that the corneas will regenerate themselves based on the genetic blueprint provided by your own cells.”

“Cool.”

He was silent for a long moment. “If you participate in our study, you would have to stay here at least two months. No air travel. The pressurized cabin is a variable we don’t want to contend with right now.”

She went still. “You’re talking like… you might actually let me in your program.”

He closed the file. “That depends on you, Kendra. Depends if you’d be willing to join us here for the next few months.”

She couldn’t breathe. She was suddenly dizzy with hope. She hadn’t expected this abrupt turnaround. “Does my mother know?”

“No. If you’re not interested, we’ll step outside, and I’ll incur her wrath by telling her again that the program is full. It’s entirely up to you. What do you say, Kendra Michaels? Would you like to join us?”

Kendra smiled shakily even as she felt her throat tighten, surprised into a sudden flood of emotion. “Yeah.” Her voice was unsteady. “Sure.”

“Good. Then I’ll go and discuss details of the procedure with your mother. It was nice to meet you, Kendra.” He stood up and leaned toward her. He said softly, “And here’s to not taking no for an answer.”

“EARTH TO KENDRA?” Olivia said quizzically. “Hello?”

Kendra snapped out of her daze. She and Olivia Moore were on their morning jog on the embarcadero in Marina Park, overlooking San Diego Bay. They had stopped to cool off when Kendra had checked out for a few moments.

“Sorry about that.” She grimaced. “I was just thinking about Dr. Waldridge again.”

“You haven’t thought of anything else since you came back to the condo last night,” Olivia said dryly. “And I might as well have been exercising with a sleepwalker this morning.”

“I know. I know. It’s just that the man I saw last night was so different than the man I remember.”

“Different how?”

“He was… unsettled. Evasive. I don’t know… The Waldridge I’ve always known has always been supremely confident and at the top of his game. Something was definitely wrong.”

“You said he was out here for some fund-raising. Maybe it hasn’t been going well.”

“No, it was more than that. I think he wanted to tell me something, but for some reason he changed his mind. He kept saying it was for my own good.”

“That’s strange. You know, I’ve been getting e-mails from him once or twice a year ever since you introduced me to him. Every time he runs across research that he thinks could one day be promising for me, he sends a link.” She shook her head. “I think he feels guilty that he couldn’t help me with my eyesight.”

Kendra gazed at her friend and didn’t state the obvious, that she felt guilty, too. She and Olivia had met as children at the Woodston School for the Blind in nearby Oceanside, and one of the great pains of Kendra’s life had been leaving her friend behind in the darkness. Olivia, who had lost her sight in a childhood auto accident, sustained optic nerve injuries beyond the reach of even Waldridge’s revolutionary techniques. He had graciously met with her and reviewed her medical case files and seemed genuinely regretful when he was unable to help her. Kendra wasn’t surprised that he’d kept in touch with her even though years had passed. Olivia was a very special person, and he must have recognized that fact. “Maybe not guilty as much as frustrated. He’s something of a genius, and he doesn’t like to admit defeat.”

“Believe me, I would have been ecstatic to be one of his successes.” The wind from the bay blew Olivia’s long brown hair up and around, gently caressing her beautiful, olive-toned face. Never once had she expressed a single iota of jealousy over Kendra’s amazing transformation, but she did harbor hopes of one day regaining the eyesight that had been taken from her.

“He really did want to help you,” Kendra said gently.

“I know. He’s a good man.” She smiled. “You know, the way you always talked about him, I’m surprised nothing ever happened between the two of you.”

Kendra’s eyes widened. “What? You mean in a romantic sense?”

“Why not?”

“There’s twenty years and eight thousand miles between us. I never thought about him that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Kendra found her tone getting defensive.

“The twenty years wouldn’t have bothered me,” Olivia said. “Mature men are more experienced, and that makes them sexier. The eight thousand miles are an obstacle that can melt away in a heartbeat. Did you ever hear about jet planes?”

“I’ve never described Waldridge as sexy to you.”

“I’ve heard you describe him as brilliant at least a hundred times. And refer to him as good-looking on at least half a dozen occasions. I know you, Kendra. The intelligence alone is a big draw for you. Put those two descriptions together, and you come up with sexy.”

“He is good-looking. It doesn’t mean I want to jump him. And it doesn’t take a schoolgirl crush to know that he’s a brilliant guy.”

“Of course. It’s just a vibe you put off.”

“No vibe. The man changed my life in a profound way, so naturally I’m going to feel a certain amount of…”

“Awe?”

Trust Olivia to zero in and strike home. How could Kendra help but feel a certain amount of hero worship toward Waldridge, who had not only given her a fantastic gift, but had been the only man in that first year to teach her, work with her, and chase away all the fear and uncertainty. Even Olivia would never realize what he had meant to her during that time. So don’t try to explain the unexplainable. “I was going to say gratitude.”

“Well, I’d sure feel awe.” Olivia felt the face of her Bradley touch-capable wristwatch. “We should start back. I have Reddit online chat in less than an hour.”

Olivia’s online Web destination, Outasite, featured articles, interviews, and product reviews, all geared to a vision-impaired audience who accessed the content via audio-reader software. Outasite had quickly become a very successful business for Olivia, and she spent many of her waking hours generating material for the site.

“Okay,” Kendra said. She looked down the sidewalk. “Clear!”

She had developed a verbal shorthand for guiding Olivia through a variety of terrain and conditions on their frequent runs together.

“Side!”

Olivia ran beside her as they continued their conversation.

“Will you see him again before he leaves?” Olivia asked.

“That may be up to him. I tried to call his cell phone this morning, but he didn’t answer.”

“Try him again.”

“I will.” She had no intention of letting Waldridge fly out of her life again and leave her with this feeling of uneasiness. He’d had a reason for contacting her yesterday, then had backed away. She couldn’t just let it go. “As soon as we get back.”

They ran through the Gaslamp District and cut down Fifth toward the five-story building that housed both of their condominiums. But as they neared the building, Kendra saw a police car double-parked outside with flashers on.

“What the hell?” she murmured.

Two uniformed officers stood on the sidewalk. One of them turned toward Kendra as she put her key in the front door. “Dr. Michaels?”

“Police,” she said to Olivia. She looked from one officer to the other. “You’re here for me?”

“Yes. Lieutenant Ortiz would like to see you at the station.”

“I’m not doing police consulting work right now. He usually calls me.”

“He did. There was no answer.”

“I never bring my phone with me when I run.” She stared at him quizzically. “So he sent a squad car to lasso me in?”

“He was concerned for your safety.”

“My safety? Why would he-?” Her brow furrowed. “What’s this about?”

“If you’ll come with us, Lieutenant Ortiz will-”

“Tell me now,” she said flatly. “Or I’m not going anywhere.”

The cop sighed and glanced at his partner before turning back. “Do you know a Dr. Charles Waldridge?”

Kendra felt herself tense. “Of course I do. What’s happened?”

“He’s missing under suspicious circumstances. And you may have been the last person to see him.”

“DR. MICHAELS, GLAD you could join us.”

Lieutenant Mark Ortiz entered the police-headquarters lobby and gestured toward the detective walking a few paces behind. “Detective Vince Halderman, Kendra Michaels.”

Halderman nodded his greeting, but Kendra ignored him and launched immediately into attack mode. “What happened to Charles Waldridge?”

“We were hoping you could help us with that. When was the last time you saw him?”

“We had dinner together last night. At Geoffrey’s, in Malibu. We left around 8 P.M., each in our own cars. So what’s the story?”

“Be patient. I have a few more questions.”

“No. I answer some, then you answer some. That’s how this will work. What happened to him?”

Ortiz turned toward his partner with a pained expression that Kendra knew she’d given a lot of other cops in her time. Then he turned back to her. “Dr. Michaels, I’m afraid the answer is that we don’t know. He was staying at the Huntley Hotel in Santa Monica. There was some kind of disturbance in his room, a lot of noise. Other guests complained, but by the time security arrived, no one was in the room. The lamp was broken, and the television screen was shattered. But all of Waldridge’s belongings, including his phone and wallet, were still there.”

Not good. Kendra cursed under her breath. What have you gotten yourself into, Charles?

“You were in a relationship with him?”

Kendra shook her head. First Olivia, now this clown. But she knew that the detective was merely fishing, straight out of the cop playbook.

“No, we’re good friends. We’ve known each other a long time. We hadn’t seen each other for a while and he met me at Pepperdine, where I was presenting at an academic conference, and we had dinner afterward.” She went on the attack. “How did you know I had any connection with him?”

“He had your Pepperdine seminar page still up on his laptop, and we found your name and number in his telephone address book. Google told me a bit more about your medical history together.”

She raised her eyebrows in approval. “Wow. Good cop.”

“Now it’s my turn. He was a long way from home. What brought him to California?”

“He was fund-raising for a project. He’s a research scientist.”

The detectives shared a quick glance.

Kendra caught that look of doubt between them. “Now what?”

“We’ve been in touch with his colleagues in England,” Halderman said. “They didn’t even know he’d left the country. They had no idea why he would have come here.”

Kendra let that sink in for a moment. “Are you absolutely certain?”

Ortiz nodded. “As far as they knew, he was just taking a few personal days. What did he say to you?”

“Just what I said. He told me he was raising money for a medical-research project.”

“And yet none of his colleagues knew anything about it.”

“It doesn’t sound right to me, either. But a lot of what he said didn’t sound right.”

“Like what?”

Kendra told them about Waldridge’s evasiveness, general uneasiness, and cryptic statement about wanting to protect her.

Ortiz jotted down some notes in a notebook as she spoke. He glanced up. “Protect you? Were you under the impression that he felt he was in any kind of physical danger?”

“No, I didn’t get that vibe from him. I’m not sure what he meant, and he wasn’t in any mood to explain himself. I was planning to call him today.”

“And you had no idea what he was working on?”

“No.” She leaned back in her chair, wishing desperately that she’d pressed Waldridge to talk to her. Then maybe whatever mess he’d managed to get himself into wouldn’t have escalated to this degree.

Ortiz pushed a legal pad across the table. “We need a list of Dr. Waldridge’s friends and associates in the area.”

Kendra pushed the pad back. “There’s only one. Me. At least, as far as I know. Waldridge doesn’t like California. It’s too laid-back for him. The few times he’s come here since I’ve known him, he did his business and got away as quickly as he could. There may be some professional contacts here, but you’d have to ask his colleagues about that.”

“We have. They said you were the only one.”

“Well, there you go. Have you been to Waldridge’s hotel room yourself?”

“No. Santa Monica PD is working the scene.”

“Don’t let them break it down. I’m going down there right now.”

Halderman scowled. “Why? You think you’ll see something all those cops missed?”

Ortiz shrugged. “Actually… she might. I’ll tell you about Dr. Michaels later.” He turned back to her, and offered, “I can make a call.”

Kendra stood. “Thanks, Ortiz. It might make things easier when I get there.”

“You’re not even going to wait and see if they’re willing to let you in?”

“I’ll keep my phone on while I’m driving down. Let me know what they say.” She was heading for the door. “But, one way or another, I’m going to take a look at that room.”

SHE DIDN’T WAIT TO HEAR from Ortiz whether he’d been able to get her into the crime scene. She decided it was time to take out insurance.

Before she was even on the I-5 freeway, Kendra voice-dialed a number she hadn’t called in months. She had hoped it would be a good while longer. After hurdling the jittery receptionist, she was finally patched through.

“Special Agent Griffin.”

“Hello, Griffin.”

“Kendra, will you please go easy on my assistant,” he said testily. “She’s already terrified of you for telling her that her sister married a guy just so he could get a green card.”

“Did she disagree? Call me a liar?”

“She’s not talking, and to tell you the truth, I don’t want to know anything more about it.”

“Then tell your assistant she should remove the photo in the lower-right side of her cubicle. I’ll leave it at that.”

“The lower-right side…?” His voice trailed off. “Never mind. Surely you have something more pertinent to talk to me about.”

“I’m on my way to Santa Monica. It’s a case the FBI may have some interest in.”

He paused for a long moment. “Okaay… In that case, perhaps you should be talking to the Bureau’s Los Angeles office.”

“Not yet. It’s about someone I know, Griffin.” She told him about Waldridge and his disappearance.

Griffin clicked his tongue. “So what do you want from me?”

“Access. I want to get in there and look around.”

“And you want me to grease the wheels for you.”

“Yes. Tell them I’m a consultant.”

“But you’re not. At least not on this case.”

“Not yet.”

Silence. “Does that mean you’re ready to come back and do some more work for us?”

Kendra had known this was coming. “Do this for me, and we’ll talk about it. I have to get in that room, Griffin.”

“Believe it or not, most big-city police departments employ very competent investigators. Is there anything that leads you to believe they’re not doing their jobs?”

“No. But they can always use an extra set of eyes.”

“Especially yours?”

“Yes. That’s what you always told me when you wanted my help.”

“But Santa Monica PD hasn’t asked for your help. Or the FBI’s help.”

Griffin was playing with her, trying to manipulate her as he usually did. He hadn’t liked it that she had opted to stay away from the Bureau this long. Put up with it. She needed him at the moment. “Waldridge isn’t just a British citizen. He’s an internationally renowned medical researcher. We may want to get a head start on this.”

“So now it’s ‘we.’ I know this doctor means something to you, Kendra, but you-”

“Then make the call. Get me in there.”

Griffin sighed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. The Huntley Hotel?”

“Yes. Thanks, Griffin.”

“Don’t thank me yet. And if I do get you in there, do me a favor and don’t treat them like they’re total idiots. Okay?”

“But what if they are total idiots?”

“Keep it to yourself.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“That’s not very comforting. Good-bye, Kendra.”

DESPITE A TRAFFIC SNARL-UP in Irvine, Kendra reached the Huntley Hotel in less than two hours. She stepped off the elevator on the eighth floor and immediately spotted a uniformed officer at the end of the corridor. As she walked toward him, he quickly sprang into intercept mode.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll have to ask you to-”

“It’s okay, Officer,” a voice called from the end of the hall. “Let her through.”

Kendra looked up to see a stocky detective with close-cropped blond hair and a bright red face. It wasn’t a sunburn, she decided. He was probably just of Irish descent.

She extended her hand. “I’m Kendra Michaels.”

“Tommy Shea, Santa Monica PD.” He shook her hand. “In the past couple hours, I’ve heard from both the FBI and the San Diego PD about you, Dr. Michaels. They seemed to think it was extremely important that you take a look at this crime scene.”

“I appreciate it.”

“I’m the one who helped piece together your connection with Waldridge. After I couldn’t get hold of you, just to be safe, I called San Diego PD and had them make contact.”

“Which they did. That’ll teach me to go running without my phone. Have you found anyone who might have seen him after I did last night?”

“He popped up on security cams in the lobby and parking garage around 9 P.M. After that… nothing.”

“That’s strange. No sign of him leaving?”

“No. And no sign of anyone suspicious around him. I looked at the video myself.”

“Is his rental car still here?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t appear to have been disturbed. The keys were in the room next to his wallet and phone. We’re having it towed in.”

She glanced inside the room. “You’re not about to break the scene down, are you?”

“Actually, we are. We’ve got what we needed. Fingerprints, photos…”

“DNA?” she asked.

“They took a few swabs, but you probably know what disgusting Petri dishes hotel rooms are.”

She grimaced as she recalled the few times she’d seen a hotel-room comforter illuminated by a UV light. “Gotcha.”

“Besides, we’re not even sure there was a crime committed here. Except maybe a little property damage. So if you want to take a look, knock yourself out. But after that, we’re packing up his belongings, and the hotel will send up their handyman to get the place back in circulation. There might be someone else in that bed tonight.”

“Great. Well, guess I better get to it before someone else obliterates whatever evidence might be left.”

Shea smiled and shook his head. “Naturally, you’re assuming there’s evidence we’ve missed. Detective Ortiz told me about you.”

“And still you’re letting me in.”

He gestured toward the open door. “Chalk it up to curiosity.”

“Anything that gets me inside.”

“Knock yourself out.”

She entered and stopped short inside the door. One side of the room looked as if Waldridge had merely stepped out for a bucket of ice, with his wallet, rental-car keys, and hotel-parking-garage ticket on an end table next to the unmade bed.

The other side, however, was a mess. The flat-screen TV was shattered, with weblike cracks emanating from the center. Fresh dings played over the pressed-wood white chest of drawers below, obviously struck by the overturned chair. Kendra looked at the desk, where the smashed phone had been knocked on the floor and a long ethernet cable had been stretched taut, halfway to the bed.

Kendra felt a sickening chill as she looked at the cord. “This cable was used as a weapon.”

Shea crossed his arms. “What makes you say that?”

“It’s pinched in two places about two feet apart, as if it had been gripped and wrapped around a pair of hands. Then it was stretched. Just the way it would look if had been used to…” Her voice trailed off.

“Strangle someone?” Shea finished.

Hearing him say it was like getting a punch to the gut. “Yes,” she whispered.

“For the record, I saw it the same way. I’ve already had it swabbed.”

“It probably won’t help. Whoever handled it was using gloves.”

Shea glanced back at the cable. “How do you figure that?”

“That cable has a soft sheaf. Soft enough to show ridges on the spots where it was gripped. Ridges from hard rubber grips on a pair of gloves. With some time, your forensic people might be able to tell you the brand of gloves. It’s worth a shot.”

Shea nodded, looking closer at the cable. “That I didn’t see. Not that it makes a lot of difference. Hundreds of people probably pawed that cable in the past few weeks. In any case, I’ll be bagging it and sending it to the lab.”

Kendra turned away. She didn’t want to look at that cable any longer. She was having trouble keeping from shaking. What in hell happened here, Waldridge?

“Dr. Michaels?”

She forced herself to look back. This was no time to fall apart, not when Waldridge might need her. She cleared her throat. “Was there luggage?”

“Yeah. In the closet. But we checked it, and he’d totally unpacked.”

“I’ll take a look anyway.”

Shea produced a pair of latex evidence gloves from his jacket pocket. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Kendra pulled on the gloves and moved to the open closet door. Hanging there were a pair of slacks, three shirts, and the jacket Waldridge had worn the previous night. His rolling suitcase was on the floor.

Kendra knelt beside it. A small blue-and-white tag was affixed to the handle, imprinted with the code L35. She angled the tag toward Shea. “Any idea what this means?”

“No. Only that it wasn’t put on here by a bellman. I asked.”

She dragged out the suitcase, unzipped it, and looked inside. As Shea had indicated, it was empty.

“Satisfied?” He crossed his arms, watching her.

“No.” She shoved the suitcase back into the closet, then stood up and walked into the bathroom. Waldridge’s toiletries were neatly arranged on a hand towel next to the sink, perfectly spaced with the same precision that Waldridge demonstrated in everything he said or did.

“A little OCD if you ask me,” Shea said.

“He’s a surgeon. It’s exactly what I’d expect.” She looked closer. “There was medication here. Did you or your officers take anything away?”

He gazed at her quizzically. “Medication? No.”

“There are two faint impressions on this hand towel. See?” She pointed to a pair of round indentions on the towel’s surface. “Most likely put there by low-to-medium-quantity prescription bottles. Did you find bottles this size here or in his car?”

Shea shook his head no.

“People steal meds, but since his wallet wasn’t touched, I doubt that’s what happened here.”

“It could be a good sign.”

“Yes. If someone did take him, it might mean that they wanted to keep him alive and well. You should check and see what his prescriptions are.”

He was already scribbling in his notebook. “I’m on it. Anything else?”

She looked around the bathroom for a moment longer. “That’s all in here.”

She followed Shea out of the bathroom. “I’ll check the drawers and under the bed, but that’s all I’ll probably-”

She froze.

He turned toward her. “What is it?”

“I just heard something.”

He gestured toward the window. “From outside?”

“No.” She looked down at the floor. “Could you please retrace your steps?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I don’t kid. It may be important.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Okay. I’m trying to cooperate. Do you want me to retrace my steps since I got here this morning, or-”

“The last six steps you’ve taken.”

He shook his head and stepped backward. Kendra cocked her head and listened as he walked.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Squish.

“There.” She pointed down. “Did you hear that?”

He stopped and looked around. “Not really.”

“Sure you did,” she said impatiently. “You heard it, but you didn’t listen.” She knelt and pressed her gloved hand over the spot where he had just walked. “The carpet is damp here, all the way down to the pad. It squished a bit when you stepped on it. So unless one of your officers spilled something…”

“Your faith in my department is overwhelming. No spills.”

She sniffed the liquid on her glove. “This needs to be analyzed. It’s very faint, almost odorless. That’s why I didn’t pick up on it before.”

Shea rubbed his glove over the spot and sniffed it. “Unusual smell.”

She closed her eyes and tried to make some connection with the odor. “It’s a little tarry, a bit like citrus… But neither, really. I’m sure I’ve never smelled it before, whatever it is.”

Shea dropped a fluorescent yellow evidence tag on the spot. “I’ll get forensics back here to sop up a sample.”

“Thank you.”

Shea nodded. “Just doing my job. You surprised me. I like to be surprised. That FBI guy told me that you were born blind and you’d still probably be that way if it wasn’t for Waldridge.”

“That’s right.”

“In that case, I’d be doing everything in my power to help him, too.” He nodded thoughtfully. “He’s lucky to have you in his corner, Dr. Michaels.”

AFTER A QUICK ONCE-OVER in Waldridge’s rental car that turned up absolutely nothing, Kendra gave her card to Shea and walked out to her car on Second Street. She leaned against her car for a long moment.

What now?

Everyone involved would probably prefer that she just sit back and wait for a call.

Dammit, Waldridge deserved better than that. But with no clear sign that a crime had occurred, it would be days before the police treated the case with any kind of urgency.

By then, it could be too late. She had been uneasy as hell at what she’d seen at that crime scene. So what could she do to make sure Waldridge received the same single-minded dedication from her that he’d given her all those years ago? She knew the answer. She’d known it all along. As much as she hated to admit it, she needed help. She needed the big guns.

And she had one of the biggest guns of all on her speed dial.