“Bill, what the hell are you doing here? It’s after midnight.”
“And it’s cold and damp. If I get sick and die of pneumonia, it’s all on your head. I got tired of waiting at the police station.”
“Sorry. We have a developing situation here.”
“Guess what? It would have continued to develop if you had deigned to meet me at the station for an hour or so. Lucky for you, I can bring my work with me.” Bill slightly raised the large pad he was carrying under his arm. “It’s important we do this right away.” He grimaced. “Considering the fact that you look like you’ve been run over by a truck, you’re probably not in good shape to remember much of anything anyway. Even in normal circumstances, memories fade, your recollections get all twisted up by the conversations you have in the hours after the event … This shouldn’t be a surprise to you, Kendra.”
“It isn’t. But you don’t need to worry about it with me.”
His faded blue eyes twinkled. “Of course not. The great and powerful Kendra Michaels is incapable of the cognitive errors that plague the rest of the mortal population…”
“Not fair. I’m not saying that.”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying. Sixty years of experience tell me that the ones who claim to be infallible are the ones I need to worry most about. Next thing I know, I’m sketching someone my witness actually saw on the Carson show the night before.”
Her lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. “I hate to tell you this, Bill, but I was in elementary school the last time Johnny Carson was on the air.”
“Aah, your ageist barbs don’t work on me. Those late-night hosts are all the same anyway. Take all the cheap shots you want. I’ve heard ’em already.”
“That was a comment, not a cheap shot. You’re the only sketch artist I wanted for this job, Bill. Of any age. This could be an unusual challenge for you.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not. But I need someone with imagination and creativity.”
“Hmm.” He studied her face. “You’ve piqued my curiosity. Not enough to make it worth crawling out of my nice warm bed, of course, but at least now I’m curious why I’ve been forced to do it.”
Kendra smiled even as she felt a pang as she noticed how frail Bill had become. Damn, it seemed as if he’d aged a decade in the two years since she had last seen him. Time could be so cruel.
“But I’m not staying out in this wet air.” He steadied himself by placing a hand on the mobile command center. “Do they have room for us to work in this monstrosity?”
“It’s a little noisy.” She gestured toward her car, which was parked a few yards away. “Is there enough light to do this in there?”
He raised a flexible-neck book light clipped to his pad. “I brought my own. Let’s get to it, young lady.”
They climbed into her car, with Kendra taking her place behind the wheel and Bill sitting in the passenger seat.
He rested his pad on his knees. “Okay, let’s start with the shape of his face. Square? Oval? Triangular? Some of each? Think. Give me a canvas, and we’ll work from there.”
“Sort of square … with high cheekbones.”
“Good.” He started to work, his pencil flying over the pad. “Like this?”
“No, chin more pointed.”
His graphite pencil moved lightning fast, correcting. “Like this?”
“That’s it.”
“Now we go to the eyes. How far apart?”
The next fifteen minutes flew by as Bill used his eraser as artfully as he did his pencil. Kendra had no sooner voiced a correction than it was incorporated into the sketch. He quickly generated a reasonable likeness of the man she had seen earlier. But after still another fifteen minutes of working together to refine the sketch, it became so real, so on the mark, that it actually chilled her to look at it.
“Amazing,” she finally said. “That’s him, that’s the man we’re looking for. You’re incredible, Bill.”
“Yes. But this is just another day at the office. So what’s with all the talk of imagination and creativity?”
She was silent. “I’ve been thinking. It’s hard for me to believe that he would actually let me see what he really looked like. There were moments tonight when I was vulnerable. He could have killed me, but he didn’t. That meant the game isn’t over for him. He has something else in store for me. I believe he’d try to keep me from knowing anything that might give me an advantage.” She looked down at the sketch. “I wonder … If he might have been wearing a disguise.”