Sight Unseen(26)

The search for Officer Jillette was being coordinated from this command center, which was now parked on a beach parking lot in the Torrey Pines State Reserve, a coastal state park that offered hundreds of acres of prime hiking trails and spectacular lookout points. The search had been under way for more than three hours, and Kendra could see two helicopters in the distance with the searchlights playing over the surf.

Find him. Find him alive. Don’t let that bastard have played his twisted games.

She tensed as her cell phone rang. Griffin?

No. And she didn’t need this right now, dammit. She accessed the call. “Who phoned you, Lynch? You’ve barely had time to get to D.C.”

“Evidently enough time for you to try to get yourself killed,” Lynch said roughly. “And Griffin says you won’t check in to a hospital. Stupid. Very stupid, Kendra.”

“I don’t need any more treatment. And I don’t need your telling me what to do. You have business to take care of for all those bureaucratic types, and I have business here.”

“At least, go home and rest. Griffin told me that you hadn’t stopped since you did a swan dive out of that window.”

“So he called you and told you to persuade me to do what he wanted me to do. It’s not going to work.” She paused. “We haven’t found that police officer yet, Lynch. I saw a photo of his wife and child in his squad car when I searched it. It was warm and sweet and…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “He’s alive for me now. I can’t go home until we find him … one way or the other.”

He was silent. “Okay, I can see that I’m not going to get anywhere. Just be careful.” He added impatiently, “And Griffin didn’t tell me to do anything. I’m not under his orders.”

“No, but he played you. Admit it.”

Another silence. “Maybe. Griffin is no fool.”

“But nowhere near as manipulative as you are, Lynch. It surprises me you let him do it.”

“I was upset. For some odd reason, I didn’t like the idea of you one-on-one with a serial killer and having to fly out a window. Just one of my little idiosyncrasies. You could have waited for me, dammit. This wouldn’t have happened if I’d been there.” He paused. “I’m thinking of scratching this assignment and flying back on the next plane.”

“Don’t be an idiot. I didn’t need you. I’m alive and well and I was face-to-face with our killer. That puts me a step ahead of where I was before.”

“Toward being a target.”

“Yes, but it was exactly what the bastard wanted, and I learned from it. You’d have slowed me down. Stay where you are. I’ll see you when you’ve plugged your leak. I won’t accept your help or presence before then. By the way, your assignment sounds terribly boring. I can’t imagine how a black-ops agent of your supposedly lethal reputation was ever drawn into it. How the mighty have fallen.” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m hanging up now.” She pressed the disconnect.

She drew a deep breath and leaned wearily back against the aluminum side of the RV. She’d been wrong to add that last taunt at Lynch. But she’d wanted to get him annoyed enough at her so that he’d stop thinking of her as a victim to rescue and go about his own business. She’d noticed that Lynch had a few protective tendencies that had to be curbed on occasion.

And, on this particular occasion, she found herself too ready to accept and embrace those tendencies. She was feeling very much alone and vulnerable. Exposing herself as a lone target had all the advantages she had told Lynch, but remembering that confrontation still shook her. It had shattered her confidence in herself, and she was having to rebuild. It would have been comforting to have Lynch here until that restructuring was complete.

But when had she ever relied on anyone else to bolster her? It was a sign of weakness and not an emotion she would have wanted to show Lynch. He was megastrong, and she wanted his respect, not his pity.

But she wasn’t feeling very strong herself at this moment, she thought. She was beginning to be aware of aches and pains that she’d firmly suppressed. She had to get busy. She needed to straighten away from this vehicle, go find Griffin, and see what was happening. Surely he could—

“I prefer to work in a nice warm squad room, you know, Kendra. It’s too chilly out here.”

Kendra’s gaze flew to Bill Dillingham, who was approaching from the other side of the parking lot. He sported a white beard and one of the thickest heads of white hair she had ever seen. Bill was in his early-to-mid eighties and walked with a stiff, unsteady gait.