Chapter 14

Kendra wriggled her toes. "Stop it. That tickles."

She opened her lids and gazed into Harley's blue-brown eyes nuzzling her right foot. The tickling didn't stop. "Stop it, Harley." He rolled over on his back and tossed his legs in the air and started to crawl up the bed toward her. "No, I don't think that's a good idea." It was then that she noticed the note fastened to her ankle. She reached down and unfastened it, opening the message.

It was a short note from Lynch.

Good morning. As promised I got up early and started to search how to find Todd Williams. I believe I might have an idea or two. You were sleeping so beautifully, I thought I'd let you have a few more hours before I woke you. Though I was having trouble leaving you. You were fantastic… I shouldn't be more than a few hours. I gave Bill a call and you'll find him wandering around the halls, very proud of his fine gun and his duty of watching over you. All the doors are locked and you'll be very secure until I get back. Take care of Harley. Don't let him boss you around.

He shouldn't have done this, she thought as she got out of bed and headed for the shower. It violated what she wanted in the relationship and he probably knew it. But face it, she'd been the one who had jumped in the shower and gone after Lynch. She had no right to complain. And at the moment, she had no desire to complain. Her body felt full, tingling, and he had also been fantastic. So accept it and just do the job and enjoy Lynch for this short time. She could straighten out anything else later. In the meantime she had to push Harley out of the shower and not let him back in until Lynch had returned to the condo.

"He told me not to let you boss me around," she said sternly as she stepped out of the stall. "But you're part of the team now, so it's not really bossing around. Let's just be buddies… Okay?"

Lynch didn't show up until almost two hours later, and by that time, Kendra had dressed, located Bill, and whisked him down to Olivia's condo for breakfast. Harley was beginning to get a little impatient.

"She's just fine," Bill said eagerly as soon as he caught sight of Lynch. "No problems, I took good care of her. Just like you said, Lynch. Everything went smooth as silk. Olivia just made us a great breakfast. Do you want me to get you a plate?"

"Not right now. I believe Kendra and I should get on the road. She's probably fairly impatient by now," Lynch said. "No doubt you've noticed that she doesn't like to wait around when there's a job to be done."

"Does anyone?" Kendra asked. "You ran out to do the same thing and left Bill and Olivia to take care of me as if I was a child in arms. Naturally I'm grateful, but I'm also ready to have it over." She tossed Harley's leash to Lynch. "Thanks for everything, Bill. We'll be in touch. You did a fine job." She gave Olivia a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll let you know if we find out anything."

"Please do." Olivia gestured toward the door. "Can we talk outside for a minute?"

"Sure. Lynch and I were just about to—"

"Just you, okay?"

"Oh. Okay."

Kendra stepped into the hallway with Olivia and closed the door behind her.

"Look," Olivia began, "I know I've been hard on Lynch, and probably on you, too."

"A little. I thought you liked him."

"I adore him."

"So what's the deal?"

She paused to put her thoughts into words. "I've known you most of our lives, and there's never been a man better for you than Lynch. He's your perfect match, and I think deep down, you know that, and it scares the hell out of you."

"That's a little strong, don't you think?"

"Is it?"

Kendra didn't reply.

"Anyway," Olivia continued, "it's been keeping you at arm's length from him. He doesn't want to suffocate you, so he reciprocates by trying to give you room. Maybe too much room. Whatever I've said or done in the past few days, it's only been because I wanted you to realize how right you are for each other. Maybe I've been a little ham-fisted in my attempts, but you two can only play it cool for so long before you might just ruin a good thing."

Kendra's eyes stung. "Olivia… We're not going to ruin anything. And Lynch and I both know you have only my best interests at heart."

Olivia nodded. "Good."

Kendra hugged her close then pulled away. "We'd better get back inside. Lynch and Bill are both probably getting antsy with having me out of their sight."

Olivia smiled. "I'm sure of it."

Kendra opened the door to reveal Lynch and Bill staring intently at them. "Everything all right?" Lynch asked.

Kendra squeezed Olivia's arm. "Better than all right."

Lynch turned back to Bill. "I'll call you and we'll have a chat, okay? Thanks for filling in for me."

"I was glad to do it. She's a great woman," Bill said quietly. "There aren't many like her, Lynch. It's no wonder you take such good care of her."

"I do my best. See you later, Bill. Bye, Olivia." He guided Kendra out the door and toward the elevator. "What was that about?" Lynch asked.

"Olivia wanted me to know how wonderful she thinks you are. More specifically, how wonderful we are together. She didn't want me to misunderstand her attitude toward us in the last few days."

"Oh. That's nice."

"Yes, it was. She's a special person."

Lynch pressed the elevator button. "Do me a favor, will you? Go ahead and phone Bill for me before he leaves here. I have a few instructions for him."

"Instructions?" Her gaze flew to his face and she inhaled sharply as she saw his expression. "Lynch?"

"Just call him while I get on the road. I don't know how much time we have."

"What are you going to tell him?"

"That he's to stay with Olivia and expect one of the FBI agents to pay him a visit to help protect her."

Her eyes widened. "Olivia's in danger?"

"Not as far as I know," Lynch said. "But I'm not taking any chances. She's your best friend. You appear to be particularly attractive to that son of a bitch since you decided to hunt for the sisters, and he might enjoy taking a life in your honor."

"We could go back, and you can tell him all this yourself."

"I don't want to take the time. I just got an interesting text."

"Really?" She moistened her lips. "You've heard something?"

"It's from my source at the SDPD. They believe they've found Todd Williams' car."

"His car?" Kendra said. "But not Williams himself?"

"Unclear," Lynch said.

"What does that mean?"

"It means his Camry is at the bottom of a two-hundred-foot ravine. A hiker spotted it less than an hour ago outside of town, at Palomar Mountain."

"Williams is dead?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. They can't reach the car yet to see if he's inside or not. There's a rescue helicopter en route, but the fire department officers on the scene can't imagine anyone could have survived a crash like that. Metcalf called me and asked if I wanted to let you know so that we could join in the search for Williams. He felt it was the least he could do since you asked him for help." He glanced at her expression. "That's what you wanted, right?"

She shook her head. "There's no way I wanted anything to happen to Williams. I liked him. He just frustrated the hell out of me. I thought he was holding out on us. Just as I told you, the only thing I wanted was for him to give us more information about what happened to the sisters. Now we might never know what happened to them."

"Because we've run into a blank wall?" Lynch asked. He shook his head. "I told you that we'd find out what happened to them. That's why we're on our way to see that wreckage in the ravine. But I'll bet it wasn't just a run-of-the-mill traffic accident. It would be a little too convenient to have an appearance of the Bayside Strangler one week and then another death related to the case the next."

"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."

"That could be why Chloe and Sloane worked so hard to investigate it."

"That could be. I'd like to talk to Griffin about why it happened that way. He was there at the time."

Kendra nodded. "Okay. Shall we go now, or do you want to shower that grime off first?"

"Actually… I think I should go see Griffin by myself."

"What?"

"I should speak to him alone."

She snorted. "Like hell you should."

"It would be for the best."

She shot him an incredulous glare. "How do you figure that?"

"I may be pushing him to discuss some things about the inner workings of the FBI. Things that could be considered extremely confidential."

"So? If he can talk about it to you, he can talk about it to both of us."

"That's the problem. He might censor himself if someone is there without a top-level security clearance."

"Someone like me, you mean."

"I, on the other hand, have a higher security clearance than he'll ever have."

Kendra drove in silence for a moment. Lynch was starting to make sense. Dammit. "But he knows that anything he tells you will go right to me anyway."

"Of course he does. And I'm guessing that would make him happy. But it would be on me, not him. I'm just saying I might be able to get more information this way. Which is what we want, right?"

Kendra sighed. "I don't like it."

"I didn't think you would. But even you have to see the wisdom of this approach."

Kendra cursed. "I want to hear every word he says. Don't leave anything out."

"You have my solemn promise." Lynch checked his watch. "Griffin will be leaving the office right around the time we get there. Drop me off in front. Stay close. I'll call you when I'm finished."

"Skittish, Griffin?"

Special Agent in Charge Michael Griffin stopped in the parking garage and clutched his heart in a pretend-coronary. "Jeez, Lynch. Why couldn't you make an appointment and visit me in my office like a sane person?"

"Time constraints. I knew you'd be out here walking to your car at about seven minutes after five. I figured I'd catch you out here, unless you had a rare late-afternoon meeting, or your wife was out of town. Then you might stay later."

"Seven minutes after five?" Griffin said in disbelief. "I can't be that predictable."

"You are, and you have been for years. I used to work for you, remember?"

"I've tried very hard to forget."

"Aw, come on. We had fun."

"You had fun," Griffin said. "Especially when it was at my expense."

Lynch smiled. "That may have been true, I admit. But I was out of your hair soon enough."

"Surely you didn't come here just to relive old times, Lynch."

"Actually, I did. But your old times, not ours. I just watched Todd Williams die."

"Metcalf told me. I was sorry to hear that."

"One of the last things he said is that he wanted me to talk to you."

Griffin looked totally mystified. "Why?"

"Probably about what happened fifteen years ago, in your first go-round with the Bayside Strangler investigation."

Griffin put down his satchel and crossed his arms in front of him. "I told you, it was over for us here at the Bureau before we could even really get started."

"Yes, you did tell me that. But what you didn't tell us is… why was it over? The murders stopped, but the killer was still out there. As far as I can tell, the Bureau took the case away from SDPD, then threw in the towel quickly afterward."

"It didn't happen quite that way."

"By all means, enlighten me."

Griffin was clearly annoyed by Lynch's accusatory manner, but he still replied in a calm, reasonable tone. "The strangler never left much usable physical evidence behind, as you and Kendra have no doubt seen in the reports. We just didn't have much to work with. We had no prints, no DNA, and one fairly vague witness description of a vehicle in the vicinity of where the last body was dumped."

"I worked takeover cases with you, Griffin. The first thing you always did was take a fresh look at the evidence, re-interview witnesses, and have your lab run their own tests. That didn't happen here. None of it."

Griffin's expression was very sour. "I always knew you were a boil in my ass, Lynch, but you've never accused me of not doing my job."

"You've never given me reason to. And I have to say, I'm a wee bit repulsed by the disturbing imagery."

"Good. Then it had its intended effect."

Lynch lowered his voice. "Come on, Griffin. On your worst day, you've never been lazy. You never let things just slip through the cracks, especially if it's a case as big and important as this one. It made the papers in London, Tokyo, and Cairo. Don't tell me you weren't getting heat to do everything in your power to catch this maniac."

Griffin looked down. "You know I was."

"So what in the hell was going on?"

Griffin clenched his jaw. Lynch could see he wanted to talk. And he would talk. Almost there…

"This isn't just some cold case, Griffin. Two young women are missing, and it appears that the Bayside Strangler is back and killing again. We need to do everything we can to stop this monster. What am I missing?"

"Lynch… This is a bureaucracy. It's a big reason you left. Things can't always happen the way we want them to."

"Kendra and I don't work in that bureaucracy. I get to make my own rules now. But we need whatever information you can give us. Come on, Griffin. We're risking our lives out there."

Griffin was quiet for a long moment. He glanced around the empty garage deck before speaking. "We have to do this my way. And you can't tell anyone where you got this from."

"Fair enough."

Griffin chose his words carefully. "The decision to take over the Bayside Strangler case was… not one that everyone in this office supported. Obviously, it was a high-profile investigation, and certain ambitious agents were chomping at the bit to be a part of it. But SDPD had already stepped up in a major way, and their task force was covering all the bases. There was no special reason for us to step in and take over."

"So why did you?"

"It came from above. All the way from Washington. They didn't even want to entertain the idea of a joint investigation with SDPD. They wanted us to completely take it over."

"And so you did. But even if you thought it wasn't necessary, why not do everything you could?"

Griffin looked around and spoke even more quietly. "Again, we weren't masters of our own destinies."

Lynch cocked an eyebrow. "Washington again?"

Griffin nodded. "I'm sure, in your adventures for the DOJ, you've encountered stories about Joseph Highcastle, the former attorney general."

Lynch nodded. "I even met him a couple of times. From what I understand, he was at least partially responsible for their bringing me in for my first freelance jobs."

"Well, just days after we took over the investigation, that AG recommended that we not waste manpower on the case. He insisted that the Bayside Strangler would no longer be an issue."

"How did he know?"

"He wouldn't get more specific. But the murders stopped, so he was clearly right. With no new murders being committed, the Bayside Strangler dropped off the headlines and the pressure on us stopped. We didn't know what happened. There was some speculation the killer was a foreign national who was caught and deported by the CIA."

"Deported… or worse," Lynch said.

"I'm guessing you may have been part of such operations."

"Which I can neither confirm nor deny. But we both know that those classified operations happen all the time."

"Of course."

"It's one way of getting around the problem of diplomatic immunity. Either we let our international partners take care of their own black sheep, or we take care of it ourselves without creating an international incident." Lynch thought about this. "Whatever was going on, the higher-ups didn't want the truth to come out."

Griffin nodded. "But we still have a lot of law-enforcement officers and victims' family members who want answers."

"Tell me this," Lynch said. "Have you ever heard of something called the Dayton Group?"

Griffin thought about it. "No. Should I have?"

"Chloe Morgan discussed it with Todd Williams a few days before she disappeared. And I discussed it with Williams a minute or so before he died today. He was surprised when I asked him about it. He acted as if it was important."

"And yet you didn't think it was important enough to tell Metcalf when you were still on the scene?"

"I wanted to discuss it with you first."

"The Dayton Group… I've never heard of it." Griffin pulled out his tiny Moleskine notebook and jotted down the name. "I'll see what I can find out."

"I'll do the same. While you're writing things in the world's smallest notebook, I got another one for you. Neptune's Eye."

Griffin stared at him in disbelief. "Really?"

"That's what Williams said. It may have something to do with Chloe and Sloane's location."

"Hopefully it doesn't mean they're somewhere in the far reaches of the solar system."

"Kendra and I would go there, if that's what it took."

"I know you would. I hope they're alive." Griffin picked up his satchel and pulled his car keys from his pocket. "I don't suppose Williams told you anything else."

"Actually, he did, though he didn't realize it. His phone was somewhere in his car. Before it burned up, my phone tapped into it and copied its contents."

"All by itself," Griffin said.

"Well, it was an app I helped design. I activated it before I went down there. I now have all his emails, texts, everything. I'll gladly share them with you. I would have already downloaded them to your phone, but…" Lynch raised his own phone and glanced at the screen. "You're two point two gigabytes short of the memory you'd need to hold it all."

"Dammit, Lynch. I could arrest you right now for hacking into my phone."

"You could, but you won't. Instead, you'll click on the link I placed on your home screen, which will enable you to forward the contents of Williams' phone to your IT techs. I'll accept your thanks later."

Lynch turned and walked toward the stairwell.

Kendra pulled up in front of the FBI building. Lynch jumped into the passenger seat and pulled the door closed.

"Was it worth it?" Kendra said.

"It was interesting."

"Interesting how?"

Lynch filled her in on Griffin's explanations, and when he was finished, she drove in silence for a moment. "Okay, maybe it was best that you talked to him alone. If someone wanted the case derailed so bad that they leaned on the FBI to shut it down, what might they do if Chloe and Sloane looked like they were getting close to uncovering the truth?"

"Not to mention Detectives Chase and Williams. We may be too late to help those detectives, but maybe we can still find the sisters. Williams gave me the impression that they were still alive, but in danger. In that coffeehouse security camera video, he told Chloe he had a safe place for her."

"But where?"

"To be determined." Lynch gently pushed Harley away again. "Right now, I'd love nothing more than a hot shower. Care to join me?"

"We'll see. First, you'll have to get a lot cleaner than you are now. Sorry to tell you this, but between that burning car, dirt, and vines, you kind of stink, Lynch."

After a hot shower for two and take-out dinner from Kendra's favorite Chinese restaurant, Lynch stared at his phone for a long moment.

"What is it?"

"It's a text from Griffin."

"Did he forget to tell you something?"

"No. The message is really for you, but he's giving me the option of passing it along to you or not."

Kendra wrinkled her brow. "Why would he do that? You're not my gatekeeper."

"I think he's actually being considerate for a change. After that maniac tried to kill you in your garage, I guess he isn't sure if you're up for more serial killer mayhem."

Kendra rolled her eyes. "When has that stopped me before?"

"Well, never. But maybe it should sometimes."

"In any case, it should be my decision."

"Agreed. Hence, my decision to tell you about it."

"Well, you haven't yet. So what's the mayhem?"

He paused a long moment before speaking. "It looks like the Bayside Strangler has struck again."

Kendra had been bracing herself, but the news still took her breath away. "Where?"

"Old Town. The victim worked at a bar there and went missing last night. She was a junior at San Diego State. Her body was just found in the back of a pickup truck."

Kendra nodded. "You know I'm going, right?"

"Of course."

Kendra had never been to Old Town at any time when it wasn't absolutely packed, so it was chilling to roll through the deserted streets as she and Lynch drove to the location of the Bayside Strangler's latest victim. Young Tessa Davies had been found in the bed of a stolen pickup truck almost twenty-four hours to the minute after she'd been reported missing.

Work lights and police flashers signaled the exact location of the body. Lynch pulled over, and he and Kendra climbed out of his car and walked past the dozen or so onlookers.

Perry was working the scene with Metcalf, the medical examiner, and the SDPD forensics techs.

"Look at this," Kendra said. "The FBI and the SDPD working together like one big happy family."

"Well, maybe a slightly dysfunctional family," Metcalf said.

Perry nodded in agreement. "Slightly. But nothing a little family therapy can't fix."

Kendra looked at the 1970s-era pickup truck parked on Calhoun Street, one of the community's main thoroughfares. She turned back to the investigators. "The victim was found in the back of the truck… Was she covered up?"

Perry shook his head. "No, not at all. She would have been plainly visible to anyone walking by on the sidewalk."

Kendra shook her head. "How long was she out here?"

"Somewhere between two and three hours," Metcalf said. "There are a lot of bars in the area, so people walking by probably thought she crawled in there and passed out. That's what a pair of local cops thought until they saw the bruising on her neck. They're the ones who recognized her as a missing person."

Kendra walked around the pickup truck, which was in amazingly good condition for a vehicle that was fifty years old. "What about this truck? Who owns it?"

"It was stolen from a farm about seventy miles east of here," Perry said. "From what we can gather, it was driven into town and parked here just after dark with the corpse already in the back. The driver walked away without anyone spotting him, best as we can tell."

"Ready to take a look?" Lynch said to her.

She took a deep breath. "Ready as I'll ever be."

Perry grabbed the edge of a black tarp that had been spread over the truck bed. "We should make this as quick as possible. A little while ago, some sickos were flying their drone cameras overhead to try to get some shots of the body."

"Don't worry," Kendra said. "I won't want to linger over this."

Perry lifted the tarp, revealing Tessa Davies. She was a pretty young woman, dressed to the nines for a fun evening out. Tessa was bound by the strangler's restraints of choice, but her body was angled so that they could not be easily seen by passersby.

Damn.

As usual, Kendra's first emotion was overwhelming sadness, followed by anger. How in the hell could anyone do such a horrible thing to her… or anyone?

Time to focus. Kendra closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and caught a whiff of Dolce Gabbana Light Blue perfume. But there was something else… It was that trace of ammonia again.

"She was staged in the same old walk-in cooler, wherever it is," Kendra said. "Just like the last victim. And it looks like she might have gotten some good scratches on her attacker. She's missing two of her fake nails. And, I'm not sure about this, but it looks like her attacker may have washed her hair after she was killed."

"Really?" Metcalf said.

"Look at her scalp. It didn't absorb the conditioner the same as it would've if she'd been alive. I don't think he's done this before, but he has beautified his victims before displaying them. In the past, it's just been things like brushing the hair and tweezing eyebrows for the best presentation. I don't know. Maybe he's learned some new tricks."