Hindsight, p.9
Hindsight, page 9
He cut the connection.
And she felt suddenly alone without that vibrant, crackling presence reaching out to her. Very dangerous sign. It meant, though she found it hard to admit to herself, she might have become accustomed to the thought of Lynch’s betrayal. Not that it mattered. The anger was still there, it just meant that she was remembering Lynch as a whole personality and in spite of herself she’d been touched that he’d called when he’d realized she might be in pain.
But that might not be a good thing.
I can’t help it. It bothers me like hell.
And what bothered Lynch quite often ended up with interference and manipulation. All she needed was to have him looking over her shoulder and calling every night to check on her progress. Had she said anything that might have triggered his curiosity?
You hesitated.
It was what she hadn’t said, she realized with exasperation. And it was only a matter of time before Lynch tapped one of his sources and heard about that bomb scare today. If he hadn’t called Griffin this morning instead of later today, he might already have known about it.
Considering Lynch’s contacts, she couldn’t stop that from happening, but she could delay it.
She quickly punched in Griffin’s home number.
“I just got home, Kendra,” he said impatiently. “Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“I have no idea, but I’m not taking any chances. I just had a call from Lynch, and I didn’t want him phoning you and demanding a report. Since you seem to be in his pocket I figured you’d be the first one he’d call.”
“I’m not in his pocket,” Griffin said sourly. “We just have a mutually profitable arrangement that benefits us both. Though the bastard was almost nasty about all my efforts to do that when he phoned this morning. What did he expect? I gave him what he wanted.” He added, “And I gave you what you wanted, too.”
“Yes, you’re completely misunderstood. You acted just as we should have expected you to act considering that you have an FBI badge where your heart should be. And you did give me what I wanted, and I want you to continue.” She added curtly, “But I want that report to be the last one you give Lynch about this case. And I want you to call Metcalf and tell him the same thing.”
Silence. “That might be difficult.”
“I don’t give a damn. I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but if you ever want me to work another case for you, I won’t have Lynch involved in this one.” She continued, “I’m not going to make false threats about pulling out of the Woodward case. You’d know that would be bogus, but I keep my promises. I’ve just made you one. Believe it, Griffin.”
“I believe it,” he said slowly. “You’re a valuable asset and I don’t want to lose you. But Lynch can be—”
“Difficult,” she repeated his word. “And profitable. Make your choice.”
“I’m not Lynch’s only source. It would only be a matter of time until he finds out what he wants to know.”
“That could be the time I need to come to terms with what’s happening without his interference. Stopping you would be the first line of defense.”
“You speak as if he’s your enemy. We both know that’s not true, Kendra. Why not be reasonable and let me discuss—”
“Make your choice.”
Silence. “I suppose I could avoid talking to him for a while. After all, I’m not at his beck and call.”
“It only seems that way. Remember to call Metcalf. I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Griffin.” She cut the connection.
Done.
It wouldn’t be a permanent fix, but it would have to do. It might keep Lynch from taking any action for a day or two and free her from his machinations.
Machinations was such a hard, soulless word, and it reminded her of what Griffin had said.
You speak as if he’s your enemy.
He was not her enemy. He could never be her enemy. But sometimes it felt safer to treat him as if he was.
* * *
Kabul, Afghanistan
Voicemail.
It was the second time Lynch had called Griffin, and both times the calls had gone to voicemail.
Lynch leaned back in his office chair and stared at the green glow of the lampshade illuminating the papers on his desk. The voicemail could mean nothing, but Griffin usually picked up his calls right away.
He punched in Metcalf’s number and waited.
Voicemail.
He shook his head and smiled slowly. Kendra had worked quickly to slam those particular doors in his face. But then she was always efficient, and she’d been very clear that she didn’t want him to have anything to do with this case involving friends from her childhood. He’d actually considered waiting in the wings to see if there were problems.
Until he’d realized she was hiding something.
If Griffin had reassured him, he might still have stayed in the background. But Griffin had not reassured him and it was probably because Kendra had not wanted him to talk to Lynch.
Trouble?
Possibly. But even if it was only that Kendra wanted to avoid his interference because of her emotional attachment to these friends from her past, he had to be certain. Everyone needed privacy, but he couldn’t let allowing Kendra her personal space to put her at risk.
So do what had to be done, but do it in the least aggressive way possible. He reached for his phone again.
On the other hand, the nuances of being aggressive could sometimes be many-faceted, intricately complicated…and ultimately satisfying.
He quickly dialed the number and listened to it ring.
Chapter
6
Damn traffic.
Kendra had woken up, showered, thrown on her clothes, and grabbed an Uber car to the Woodward Academy. She thought she’d be traveling against the flow of rush-hour traffic, but the I-5 freeway had a way of quashing any foolish notions of hope or optimism. Still, the ride did give her time to catch up on emails and rearrange her day’s appointment schedule.
She needed to go back to Woodward and see the crime scenes in daylight, though she doubted she’d missed anything during her initial sweeps. And now maybe she could learn something from the other teachers and staff members.
Her phone vibrated in her hand. Probably a callback from one of her music therapy clients. Hopefully they’d be willing to move their appointment to a time when—
DO I NEED TO COME BACK THERE?
It was a text message from Lynch.
She typed her response: ABSOLUTELY NOT. WHY? ASSISTANCE STILL NOT NEEDED. MUST GET OVER ONESELF.
He responded: YOU’VE SOMEHOW FROZEN ME OUT. UNEASY WHEN UPDATES DRY UP.
She typed back: TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT OF IT.
His response came quickly: USUAL SOURCES SURPRISINGLY UNRESPONSIVE.
She smiled and typed: SURPRISING TO GREAT AND SELF-SATISFIED ADAM LYNCH, PERHAPS.
HMM. PROBABLY DESERVED THAT.
PROBABLY?
OKAY, DEFINITELY. WHAT DID YOU DO?
ONLY WHAT THE PUPPETMASTER WOULD HAVE DONE.
ONCE AGAIN, NOT APPRECIATING USE OF VAGUELY INSULTING NICKNAME.
She laughed out loud in the back of the car. She responded: INSULTING PERHAPS, BUT NICKNAME ACCURACY NOT IN DISPUTE. WILL CONTINUE TO USE.
WONDERFUL. NOW HOW DID YOU ENFORCE BLACKOUT OF ALL TRUSTED SOURCES?
Kendra hesitated before revealing her strategy. She shrugged. Surely, he knew already. She typed: THREATENED TO WITHHOLD ONE THING OF VALUE TO THEM.
His response was immediate. She imagined his fingers flying across his phone’s keyboard: OF COURSE. YOUR ASSISTANCE IN FUTURE INVESTIGATIONS.
BINGO.
EXACTLY WHAT I WOULD HAVE DONE. AFRAID YOU’VE BEEN CORRUPTED BY MY BAD INFLUENCE.
NO WORRIES. BAD INFLUENCES PREDATED ADAM LYNCH BY MANY, MANY YEARS.
RELIEVED TO HEAR. MUST TELL ME ABOUT THEM SOMETIME. I ALWAYS LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR WILD DAYS. SO WHERE TO NOW? UNLESS BLACKOUT STILL IN EFFECT.
She thought for a moment. No harm in telling him. ON WAY TO ACADEMY.
WITH METCALF?
NOT TODAY. WILL ACCOMPLISH MORE ALONE.
WISH I WAS THERE WITH YOU.
She had a sudden wish he was, too. He was everything that was entertaining and amusing and always exactly on her wavelength. But there was no way she’d tell him that.
WHAT PART OF “ALONE” DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?
UNDERSTOOD PERFECTLY. JUST NOT CRAZY ABOUT CONCEPT.
I’LL BE FINE. NEARING SCHOOL NOW.
GOOD LUCK. LOOKING FORWARD TO HAVING BLACKOUT LIFTED.
She smiled and typed: NOT IN FORESEEABLE FUTURE.
HMM…PERHAPS IF I RAMP UP CHARM OFFENSIVE…
YIKES, WOEFULLY UNDERMANNED ON THAT FRONT. ALTERNATIVE STRATEGY RECOMMENDED.
She closed the conversation.
Typical Lynch. He knew she was still angry with him but thought he could make her forget with a little humor and his sheer force of will.
And for an instant he’d almost done it.
But you’ll have to do a lot better than that, buddy.
She looked up at the academy’s main house as her car rolled up the long driveway. The stone finish had recently been cleaned, and the shutters had been given a fresh coat of paint since her last daytime visit. She, like the other blind students who had attended Woodward, had no idea how stunning the campus was. It wasn’t until Kendra had gained her sight that her mother had told her it gave her great sense of peace to drop her daughter off in such a beautiful place—though she regretted that Kendra could not see it. But there was more than visionary beauty here; there was also the wonderful scent of the flowers over which Ronald Kim had labored. There was the sound of the surf and the wind in the trees, and there was the friendship and challenges of teachers like Elaine.
The car stopped in front of the building, and Kendra climbed out and tipped the driver through the phone app. She looked around. She knew she should probably check in at the front office, but she wanted to take another look at the crime scenes without a school administrator hovering over her.
She started at the south lawn where Ronald Kim’s body was found. Nothing she hadn’t already seen the night before except for a few more shoe impressions on the outskirts of the scene. Probably from school employees venturing out to the spot to see where their colleague had spent his last moments on Earth. It was a common phenomenon at crime scenes, one that often led to flowers, cards, and other small mementos being left in tribute.
She looked over the short wall at the access road that for some reason had captured Ronald Kim’s attention in the minutes before his death. Was he waiting for someone?
She walked back, making an ever-widening arc as she scanned the ground. Nothing of note.
She crossed the campus to the Slide, where the lowest railing post still had not been replaced since its uprooting two nights before. She sat on Big Rock, trying to imagine Elaine Wessler’s battle to survive on this grassy slope. What in the hell had brought her out there in the middle of the night? Had she sat on this very rock, waiting to meet her killer?
Or had she been chased from the campus above?
What am I not seeing here, Elaine?
“Hello, Kendra.”
Kendra whirled to see Allison Walker descending the steps behind her. “Dr. Walker…Allison. Hi. I wanted to get a better look.”
“Seems to me you got a pretty good look the other night.”
Kendra stood. “I was afraid I missed something.”
“I don’t think much gets past you,” she said dryly. “It was true when you were a student here and it’s even more true now.”
“In any case, I haven’t found anything else.”
“Maybe you don’t need to. Did they get DNA off that bloody post?”
“I haven’t heard anything yet. I’ll check in after I leave here.”
“Good.”
Kendra joined her on the steps. “The parking lot was full. I take it you still haven’t canceled classes.”
“No. Half the students still haven’t come back, but the families of our resident students live hundreds and even thousands of miles from here. Twenty-six come from Europe, and eight are from Australia. It’s difficult for them to just swing by and whisk their kids away, though I certainly don’t blame the ones who did. We’ve increased security, which is how I knew you were out here. I’m afraid your Uber driver got a grilling before he was able to leave campus.”
“Great.” Kendra smiled. “There goes my customer rating.”
“Desperate times. The sooner you can solve this, the better.”
“No pressure or anything.”
“There’s plenty of pressure to go around, believe me. Maxine Rydell will be here later in the week.”
“What?” Kendra’s eyes widened as her head swiveled to look at her. “She’s coming here?”
“For the first time in over five years.”
Kendra let that sink in for a moment. Maxine Rydell was one of the world’s wealthiest women, her fortune made by her great-grandfather’s oil holdings in California’s Central Valley. Her financial support was key to the Woodward Academy’s continued operation and success.
“She lives in Switzerland, doesn’t she?” Kendra said.
“She does. She rarely leaves Europe, though we talk on the phone almost every week. I guess this warranted a special trip on her private jet. She’s disturbed by the events of the past few days. As we all are.” She grimaced. “She says she wants to discuss the future of the academy.”
“What does she mean by that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
That answer was too noncommittal. Kendra felt fear rush through her. “She’s not withdrawing her support, is she? Has she said anything?”
Allison pulled her long sweater around her as the ocean breeze blew harder. “No, she’s not said anything other than she’s giving all solutions a good deal of thought.” She smiled bitterly. “Does she think I’m not? But how can I fight against what happened here?” She straightened and lifted her chin. “Maybe it will be fine. We’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, we’ll navigate this crisis as best we can. Just as we have since Woodward Academy was founded.” She turned to face Kendra. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“I’d like to see Elaine Wessler’s office.”
“It’s on the second floor of the Brockmire Building. I’ll call the custodian and send him over there. He’ll unlock it for you.”
“Thank you.” Kendra thought for a moment. “You said Elaine had no special contact with Ronald Kim. Was she close to anyone here? Who knew her best?”
“I don’t know if they were especially close, but Elaine did occasionally eat lunch with another teacher here. Layla Shaw.”
Kendra frowned. “I don’t know her.”
“She’s only been here for about five years. She’s a PE instructor, very good with the students. If Elaine had a friend here, it was probably Layla.”
“Can I talk to her?”
Allison checked her watch. “She has a class at the pool now. You can find her there.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Allison hesitated, then spoke in a guarded tone. “I have to warn you about something.”
Kendra’s brows rose. “That sounds ominous.”
“It isn’t, really. It’s just…Layla Shaw is not your biggest fan.”
Kendra looked at her in bewilderment. “I just told you, we’ve never met.”
“I know. But everyone here knows you and your story. Our students have always been inspired by you.”
“But not Layla Shaw.”
She shrugged. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“The hell you shouldn’t. Does she have some kind of problem with me?”
Allison motioned up the narrow stairway. “I should get back to my office. I have a few calls to make before my meeting.”
“Come on. You’re the one who brought it up.”
“It’s nothing you need to be concerned with. I’m sure she’ll help you any way she can as far as Elaine is concerned.” Allison turned and quickly made her way up the stairs. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Allison…?”
But she was gone.
What the hell…?
Kendra shook her head, trying to make sense of the bizarre end to her conversation with Allison. She’d never known her to have much of a sense of humor, so she didn’t think it was a joke.
Oh, well. There were more important things to worry about.
Kendra bounded up the stairs, strode across the east lawn, and took a shortcut down a grassy hillside to the athletic field and aquatic center. Twenty vision-impaired children were standing on the field wearing swimsuits.
Three instructors were also there wearing red swimsuits emblazoned with the Woodward Academy logo. One of the instructors, a tall, toned, thirtyish woman, was clearly in charge of the others.
Kendra approached her. “Layla Shaw?”
The woman turned toward her. “Yes.”
“My name is Kendra Michaels. I’m here to—”
“I know who you are and why you’re here,” she snapped.
She wore a distinctly pinched, annoyed expression.
“I’d like to talk to you about Elaine Wessler,” Kendra said warily.
“The police and FBI investigators have already interviewed all the teachers and staff. I don’t think I can add anything.”
“You might be surprised. Sometimes thoughts and memories just seem to come out of the blue.”
“I’m very busy, Dr. Michaels. As you can see, I have a class here.”
“I’ll wait.”
Layla rolled her eyes in exasperation and walked away.
Allison was right, Kendra thought. Definitely not a fan.
“It’s a nice day,” Layla said to one of the other instructors. “Let’s open the shell.”
One of the other women unlocked a gray box at the edge of the center’s concrete periphery. She gripped a red lever and shouted to the students. “All clear.”
The kids casually moved back until they reached a set of pebblestone pavers. They had this routine down.
