Flashback, p.18
Flashback, page 18
“You think the strangler was after Todd Williams?”
“I don’t know. I think there’s a possibility. We’ll know more when we’re able to get a closer look at that car.”
“How’s that supposed to happen? Even after the rescue copter arrives, it will probably take a crane to get that car out of the ravine.”
Lynch shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get myself down there first.”
She stared at him for a long moment. “You said the fire department couldn’t make it down there until the helicopter arrives.”
He nodded. “That’s what they said.”
“So you think you can do what the entire San Diego County Fire Department can’t?”
“Possibly. I’ll look things over when we get there.”
“Dammit, Lynch, you have a death wish.”
“Nonsense. I love my life too much. It’s just a matter of calculated risk.”
“Famous last words.”
“Not mine.” He smiled. “We’ll be there in a few minutes. We’ll see what the situation is when we get there.”
It took more than fifteen minutes to negotiate the curvy roads ascending Palomar Mountain, a popular spot for nature hikes with spectacular views. Finally, they spotted a cluster of police cars and fire department rigs, accompanied by almost a dozen rescue personnel standing around and doing absolutely nothing.
“This looks like our party,” Lynch said. “And I see that Metcalf has already found his way here.” He parked, and he, Kendra, and Harley climbed out of the car and walked toward the roadside. A uniformed officer tried to stop them, but Metcalf waved them through.
“Where’s the copter?” Lynch said.
“Still aiding in rescue efforts at the Potrero brush fire.” Metcalf bent over to rub the scruff of Harley’s neck. “It could be an hour or more before they get here.”
Kendra peered over the edge of the cliff and saw Williams’ Camry resting upright in the ravine hundreds of feet below. She turned back to Metcalf. “Still no sign of Todd Williams?”
“No. The fire department guys have tried to look down from every angle, but they couldn’t see inside. They even tried sending down a drone, but there’s just too much vegetation to get a good view.”
One of the cops motioned for Metcalf to join him at his squad car as he held up his radio microphone. Metcalf stepped away to join him as Lynch studied the cliffside for another long moment. He turned to Kendra. “Stay here with Metcalf and take care of Harley, okay?”
She glared at him. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Down.”
Her eyes widened. “How? Are you wearing a parachute I don’t know about?”
“I don’t need a parachute. See all those vines growing down the hillside?”
“You do have a death wish.”
Lynch turned and walked back to his car, and Kendra and Harley followed. He opened his trunk with his remote key fob. “Trust me. Just last year I climbed the Dawn Wall at El Capitan. Now, that may have constituted a death wish.” Lynch pulled out a hardshell jacket and a pair of gloves.
Kendra looked back toward the gathered firemen. “Don’t you think you might want to run this by them first?”
“Absolutely not. If Todd Williams is alive and injured down there, there won’t be time for a negotiation.” Lynch pulled on the gloves and slid into his jacket.
He strode back to the cliff’s edge and looked down for another long moment.
Kendra stood next to him and looked again at the two-hundred-foot drop. “Please, Lynch,” she whispered. “Don’t do this.”
“It’ll be fine. Just make sure they don’t commit me to a mental facility when this is all over.”
“No promises. But just so you know, I plan to witness the commitment papers.”
“As long as you come to see me on visiting day.”
“Again, no promises.”
Lynch kissed her, then turned and threw his legs over the cliff’s edge. He gripped the vines and moved down the slope, half slipping, half dropping the first thirty feet. It was only then that the firemen and cops on the scene took notice and ran to the stretch of road above.
“Sir, get up here. Now!” the fire chief shouted. “Do you hear me?”
If Lynch heard, he didn’t acknowledge the chief or the other firefighters or cops shouting at him from above. He continued to work his way down, occasionally uprooting the vines and shrubs protruding from the ravine’s wall.
Metcalf ran toward Kendra. “What the hell is he doing?”
Kendra turned to avoid looking at Lynch dropping down a particularly treacherous section of brush. “He didn’t want to wait for the helicopter.”
“I don’t want to wait, either, but man…”
The chief turned toward Metcalf. “Special Agent, who in the hell is that guy?”
Metcalf sighed. “You mean the one I waved over and allowed to freely cross the police and fire line?”
The chief obviously didn’t see the humor in Metcalf’s reply. “Yeah, that one.”
“His name is Adam Lynch. He’s a contract agent who may or may not be working for the DOJ at the moment.”
“Care to tell me what he’s trying to do down there?”
Several of the gathered officers gasped and one even yelped as Lynch apparently grabbed some loose brush and dropped several yards. Kendra was glad she hadn’t been watching.
“He’s working a case that involves the owner of that car,” Metcalf said. He turned toward Kendra. “Care to fill in any more details?”
“No, not really.”
The fire chief cursed under his breath. “Fine. Because I don’t give a damn about your investigation. On this mountain, I’m the boss, and the only thing that matters is the safety of the people on it. Understand?”
“Don’t tell me. Tell him.” Kendra pointed down into the ravine.
“Trust me, I will. If he makes it out of there alive. There might even be a pair of handcuffs waiting here for him.”
Kendra wanted to tell the chief not to bother trying to arrest Lynch, since she’d seen how quickly his Washington employers had swooped in and extricated him from any number of sticky situations over the years. “Good luck with that,” she whispered to Metcalf.
The firefighters and cops moved away to get a better look at Lynch’s progress.
“Halfway down!” one of the uniformed officers shouted.
The crowd buzzed with excitement.
Metcalf gave Kendra a sideways glance. “Ten seconds ago, they wanted to put Lynch in prison. Now they want to throw him a parade?”
Kendra nodded. “Crazy, right? He just has that effect on people.”
They moved closer to the ravine’s edge to get a better look. Metcalf must have seen her worried expression, because he suddenly spoke in a comforting tone. “Yeah, you’ve got to remember all the experience Lynch has with stuff like this. He practically cut his teeth on black ops training. It was even my boss Griffin at the Bureau who suggested we ask Lynch for help if he was available.”
“How nice of him,” Kendra said. “Then I shouldn’t worry at all, right? Because Lynch seems to be always available when there’s a problem to solve.” She watched Lynch as he climbed farther down the cliffside.
Don’t you dare slip.
It was more a fierce prayer than anything else. Do you hear me? Hang on, Lynch…
Lynch was approaching a section of sheer rock, with no apparent handholds.
“Uh-oh,” Metcalf said. “I don’t know how he’s going to manage that.”
“Me neither.” Kendra squinted at the ravine wall. “But Lynch wouldn’t have gone down there without a plan.”
About twenty feet above the sheer rock surface, Lynch stopped and began pulling vines away from the ravine wall. He tugged on them, testing each for strength and casting aside the ones that didn’t hold. He bunched the remaining vines together and twisted them together in a long, thick length.
Kendra gasped. “Oh, no.”
Metcalf turned toward her. “What?”
“Lynch, you crazy son of a bitch…”
“What? What’s he doing?”
Kendra shook her head. “He thinks he’s Tarzan.”
The realization suddenly hit Metcalf. “You don’t think he’d really…?”
“Just watch him.”
Lynch moved down the length of braided vines, gripping them in his gloved hands. He held tight as he braced his feet against the ravine wall, then pushed away. He swung back and forth, making an ever-larger arc as he moved toward another cluster of vines and shrubs that would take him lower.
Lynch swung his hips to push himself even closer, but as he did so, the force of his movements caused several of the vines to break off in his hands. He plummeted several feet, eliciting gasps and a few shrieks from the crowd above.
“He can still make it back up here,” Metcalf said.
Kendra shook her head. “No way he’s giving up.”
“Maybe he should.”
“This is Lynch, remember?”
He swung farther and higher as even more of the vines broke in his hands. A big clump finally pulled loose entirely. Lynch let go and leaped through the air, grasping at any vine and piece of shrubbery that could conceivably keep him from plummeting the hundred-plus feet to the ravine’s rocky floor.
“He made it!” Metcalf shouted.
Lynch had grabbed another vine cluster, slipping only a few feet before securing his new place on the ravine wall.
Several police officers whistled and applauded, but the firefighters were held back by stern glances from their chief.
Kendra pointed to the binoculars hanging around Metcalf’s neck. “Lend me those, will you?”
Metcalf handed her the binoculars, and she trained them downward. “Shit.”
“What do you see?”
She turned the focus knob. “There’s smoke coming from that car. I think I just saw a flame in the engine compartment. But why now, after it’s been down there for hours?”
“The car may have been running all this time and leaking fluids.” Metcalf took back the binoculars and aimed them toward the car. “There’s a fire, all right.” Metcalf turned toward the firefighters to tell them, but they’d already seen it. “I wonder if Lynch knows yet.”
Was that… smoke?
Still gripping the vines, Lynch twisted his body toward the car below him. Flames shot out from the undercarriage, and black smoke coiled upward. Great. Just great.
A moment later, he was engulfed by the smoke. His eyes watered and his nose burned.
Fight through it. Only about seventy-five feet to go.
He moved down the vines, traveling hand under hand as another plume of acrid smoke swirled over him.
Dammit. He closed his eyes and held his breath, hoping against hope that the plume would soon break. It didn’t. Shit.
He continued his downward journey, trying to feel his way past a thorny outgrowth of branches.
More smoke, and this plume was even more intense than the last.
It was getting harder, not easier. Gotta pick up the pace.
He forced open his watery eyes and half climbed, half slid down the next thirty feet, still holding his breath. Finally, the smoke thinned and moved in a different direction. He looked down. The car was still burning and the fire had spread to some nearby brush. Damn. If Williams was alive in there, his chances were fading fast.
Lynch took advantage of the break in smoke to quickly rappel down the next several feet, then he dropped the last few yards to the ravine floor. He scrambled toward the car and looked through the windows. The broken glass obscured his view from almost every angle, but as he peered through the passenger side window, he spotted a figure slumped on the floor.
Todd Williams.
And he was breathing. Just barely.
Lynch threw open the door and leaned inside. Williams was covered in blood and bruises. Many of his wounds looked as if they came from beatings and instruments of torture rather than an automobile accident.
Flames erupted over the car hood. No time to properly assess Williams’ injuries before moving him. Lynch gripped him under each arm and pulled him from the burning car, hoping the man hadn’t suffered a spinal cord injury. Williams moaned.
Lynch pulled him another few yards away and knelt beside him. “What happened? Tell me.”
Williams coughed up a mouthful of blood.
“I need you to talk to me,” Lynch said. “Who did this to you?”
Williams struggled to form words. The only sounds came from the back of his throat. “Don’t… know. Wanted Chloe… and Slo…” His voice trailed off.
“Chloe and Sloane?” Lynch asked.
Williams managed a faint nod.
“Whoever did this… thought you knew where to find them?”
Williams became even more glassy-eyed. “Chloe… Sloane… In danger.”
“They’re alive?”
“Chloe and Sloane… know.”
Williams wore a vacant expression. For all Lynch knew, the man could have been reliving a memory from years before.
“What do they know? Tell me.”
Williams’ eyes fluttered.
“Stay with me.” Lynch leaned close. “Is this about the Dayton Group?”
This snapped Williams back into focus. He looked at Lynch with a surprised expression. “You know?”
“Not enough. Help us. What is that?”
A thin line of blood ran from Williams’ left nostril. His breath grew labored and raspy. “I tried… to get away. They found me, tried to make me tell… I wouldn’t. No way, no how. Lynch… talk to your old boss. Griffin. I think he can tell you more. More than he ever told me…”
Lynch could see that Williams was drifting again, losing focus. He’d seen enough dying men to know the end was near. “We’re trying to help Chloe and Sloane. If they’re alive, you need to help us find them.”
Williams managed a smile. “They’re safe. Very safe… They’re in Neptune’s eye.”
“What?”
Williams mumbled something unintelligible.
“Neptune’s eye? What is that?” Lynch tried to quash his growing impatience. “Give me more. Please. It’s important.”
But Williams was gone.
The fire crackled over and around the car behind them, almost completely burned out. Lynch stood. He’d been bracing for an explosion, but as with most car fires he’d seen, it just ended with a whimper, leaving behind a smoldering heap of ash and metal.
He heard a chopping sound up above. A red-and-white fire rescue helicopter roared overhead, and he could see that the crew had already started deploying the harness and tether rig.
At least he wouldn’t have to find his own way back.
“Neptune’s eye?” Kendra was driving back down the mountain with Lynch. After Lynch’s helicopter rescue, he spent over thirty minutes practically dictating the fire chief’s report for him. The entire team had watched him pull Williams from his car before fire consumed it completely, so there was no longer talk of arrest or handcuffs. Harley was now eagerly licking Lynch’s grimy neck from the backseat. The combination of engine smoke and dried perspiration was irresistible to him.
Lynch tried without success to push Harley away. “Neptune’s eye is exactly what he said. I’m sure of it. But I don’t know how much stock we can put in that, since he was coming in and out of consciousness at the time. It was one of the last things he said to me.” Lynch held up his phone and typed with his thumbs. “According to Google, Neptune’s Eye is the small dark spot on that planet’s atmospheric surface.” He scrolled down the search results. “It’s also an old song.”
“Hmm. Neither of those seem to be a likely hiding place for Chloe and Sloane Morgan.”
“Agreed. But I got a strong response from Williams when I mentioned the Dayton Group. He seemed surprised that I knew about it.” He added quietly, “And there were signs of torture to the body.”
That was worse than she’d thought. “Torture?” she whispered.
He nodded. “I’d say that someone wanted information very badly, but they might not have gotten what they wanted. His clothes were almost torn off his body and there was a bullet in his back as if he’d been shot while he was on the run from his pursuers. They may have been chasing him up this mountain.”
“On the run,” Kendra repeated. “It could be the same person who caused the Morgan sisters to disappear. Perhaps even the killer the FBI was searching for at the park.”
“The Morgan sisters? We don’t even know if they’re still alive,” Lynch said. “The only one who did might have been Todd Williams.” His lips tightened. “But we’ll find out. We won’t let it go on.”
“No, we won’t,” Kendra said. “So much death and cruelty. It seems to go on and on. I want it to stop.”
“It will,” Lynch said. “I promised you it would. It will just take a little while. In the meantime I want you to stay close to me. There’s every chance you could be a target.”
“So could you,” she said dryly. “I wasn’t the one who was shimmying down that cliff just now. He didn’t give you any idea what the Dayton Group is?”
“None whatsoever. But his reaction tracks with what we saw on that coffeehouse security camera video. It was obviously important to him and Chloe.”
“So what now?”
“Now… I think I need to speak to Griffin.”
“Why?”
“Williams told me to talk to him, for some reason. Griffin was working the case for the Bureau fifteen years ago.”
“But he said himself that he didn’t get very far with it.”
“Yes. Because the killings stopped shortly after the FBI took over the investigation. But I’ve been researching and talking to people, and something’s been bothering me. The killings stopped, but that doesn’t explain why more investigating wasn’t done into the murders that had already been committed.” Lynch thought for a moment. “The San Diego PD did a good job investigating those murders, and the Bureau would have had access to their files and interview transcripts. But when the FBI takes the extraordinary step of taking over a case, they almost always take a fresh look themselves. According to the research I’ve done, it doesn’t look like they did that here.”
