Lynch walked over and leaned close to her. “Listen, Kendra, I know you have some seriously bad history with this maniac.”
She half smiled and tried to joke. “Griffin’s not so bad.”
“The other maniac. Colby. However you want to play this, I’ll back you up. Don’t let them talk you into doing anything you don’t want to do.”
“Just a few seconds ago, you were telling me we needed to follow this lead.”
“They do. You don’t. Not if you don’t think you can. I don’t like your reaction to this creep. Just say the word, and I’ll build a wall around you so strong that Griffin and friends won’t even think about breaking through. Understand?”
That damn protectiveness again.
There was a rap at the door, and Lynch opened it wide for Griffin, Metcalf, and Reade to enter.
Griffin stared at Lynch for a moment before stepping into the condo. “Welcome back. This is an unexpected pleas—” He paused and substituted. “Occurrence.”
“The feeling is totally mutual, Griffin. I just got into town.”
“Huh. Why do I have feeling that my lab has been in touch with you … maybe even before they were in touch with me.”
“With the tight ship you run there?”
Griffin muttered a curse and turned toward Kendra. “So you know about the skin cells we pulled off Corrine Harvey’s sweater?”
She nodded. “The ones with Eric Colby’s DNA? Yeah, old news.”
“I’ve already been in touch with the warden at San Quentin. He’s pulling together a visitor’s list, mail and call logs, and other information he has on Colby. It seems you’re not the only one with a rabid fan base, Kendra. Especially since his execution date was set, he’s become quite popular.”
“Exactly what he wants, I’m sure.”
Reade stepped forward. “The attention will increase exponentially when this gets out, you know.”
“Then don’t let it get out,” Kendra said harshly. “Don’t give him the satisfaction. You can keep a secret for five days, can’t you?” She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Anger, shock, and frustration were all whirling around within her. “Don’t let him play us like this.”
Griffin spoke in a slow, measured tone that was probably supposed to be soothing but only served to make her angrier. “Trust me, we’re not calling a press conference. But we are flying to San Francisco tomorrow morning. We’ll visit San Quentin, inspect the logs, and speak with Colby and the prison personnel who know him best. You’re the only one of us who has any previous experience with him, so we would like you to join us.”
Kendra had known it was coming, but it still hit her like a swift, wicked, kick. “I already know what it’s like to be face-to-face with Colby. It’s not an experience I’m anxious to repeat.”
“We can certainly understand that,” Griffin said in a tone bordering on patronizing. “But this isn’t really being done for your benefit. Your presence there might provoke more of a reaction from him. He might be more forthcoming.”
“You think the sight of me will make Eric Colby spill his guts?” She smiled bitterly. “Then you really don’t know him. Colby is an iceman.” Her gaze circled the agents. “So what’s the consensus? Do your profilers think we’re dealing with a tag team?”
“No, they’re very cautious.” Griffin dropped down in an easy chair facing her. “Serial-killer tag teams are extremely rare. It’s almost always an extremely solitary pursuit.”
“I’ve never encountered one,” Kendra said.
“Very few investigators have,” Metcalf said. “Thank goodness. But it’s not unheard of for a killer to draw inspiration and even guidance from an incarcerated murderer.”
Kendra looked away from them. “Incarcerated murderer” sounded so sterile, so civilized, compared with the brutal and venomous image she still held of Eric Colby. This time she couldn’t shake the image from her mind. “Aren’t communications with death-row inmates monitored?”
“Depends,” Griffin said. “Mail and telephone are, but in-person visits aren’t. And we all know that it’s distressingly easy to smuggle almost anything in or out of a prison.”
“Like a woman’s sweater?” Kendra asked.
“Or maybe a handwritten serial killer how-to manual,” Reade said. “Thanks to the Web, some of these guys have a worldwide following.”
“That’s depressing.”
Griffin shrugged. “It’s the world we live in. You can sit back and be depressed or do something to change it.”