“You do preen with the best of them.”
“I do. I really do.”
“Okay, here’s your chance. How did you get your DNA on Corrine Harvey’s sweater?”
“I knew that would bother you.” His smile widened, his tiny teeth reminding her of a serpent’s fangs. “It’s kind of a wonderful magic trick, isn’t it?”
“You’re dying to tell us. You want to show the whole world how brilliant you are.”
He clicked his tongue. “You know … people think they want to know how a magic trick is done, but they don’t really. When they find out the secret, the wonder disappears. They’re suddenly not impressed. They respect the magician less, not more, regardless of how brilliant and mystifying his methods may be.”
“We’re not talking about magicians, Colby. Romanticize it all you want, but in the end we’re talking about killers. Thugs.” She forced herself to stare him in the eye. “There’s only you and your puppet on the outside. There’s no magic, there’s no wonder. Just a pair of pathetic psychopaths.”
If Colby was bothered by her words, he didn’t let it show. He nodded to where Griffin was sitting down the table. “Your FBI handler isn’t happy with your attitude toward me, Kendra. You’re not following the Bureau playbook. Don’t you know you’re supposed to stroke my ego in order to keep me talking, so that I’ll give something away?”
Kendra glanced at Griffin. He did indeed look tense and upset. She shrugged. “I told you, that may be what these agents are here for, but I wouldn’t waste my time. It wouldn’t work with you.”
Colby laughed. “Quite right.”
“So if you’re not going to answer my questions, why did you ‘summon’ me?”
“It was important to me that I see you one last time, Kendra. I have an announcement to make.”
“Then make it.”
He paused. “A drumroll please.”
“Say it.”
“I’ve changed our story.”
“What story is that?”
“The one where the gifted, formerly blind Kendra Michaels uses her intellect and powers of observation to stop a deranged madman in his tracks.”
“That story is over, finished.”
“No. To crib a phrase from Shakespeare, what is past is prologue.” He paused. “Because our story will not end until you know how it feels to truly suffer, Kendra. In every way imaginable.”
She took a deep breath. Don’t react. Don’t give this creep one shred of satisfaction.
“You’re trying so hard not to show your fear.” His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “But that terror is part of the new story. The terror and the pain have already begun and won’t leave you until the end. And it won’t even be over when the federal government shoots poison into my veins Monday night. Trust me on that.”
Kendra felt a chill that went to her very core. She had seen the many horrible ways Colby had backed up his promises.
“Enough.” Lynch had opened the door and strode into the room. “Get the hell back to your cell and talk to your paper-doll cutouts.” He nodded to guards. “Take him.”
Colby raised an eyebrow. “Giving up so easily, Mr. Lynch? That isn’t your reputation.”
“Like the lady said, you’re just another lead to be crossed from the list.”
Colby rose to his feet as the guards approached. “We all know that’s not true.” His gaze shifted from Lynch to Kendra, then back again. “I do believe he’s a trifle upset, Kendra. Interesting.” He held her gaze. “He’ll be more upset the closer we get to the end of the story.”
“Bullshit.” Kendra was trying to hold it together, but the interrogation room suddenly felt as it were getting smaller, bringing her closer and closer to Colby and his serpent smile. She had to get out of here. As she walked to the door, her throat was closing, and it was getting harder to breathe. “I’m done with you.”
“But that’s the delightful twist to the story,” he called after her. “You’ll never be done with me, Kendra.”
She practically stumbled into the hallway as the guard unlocked the door for her. Lynch was right behind her. He took her by the arm and half walked, half carried her around the corner. “Stop. There’s no one here.” He jammed her up against the wall and stepped closer, taking her in his arms, hiding her from view. “Let it go.”
“I’m okay.” She wasn’t okay.
Heads in the warehouse, eyes glued open.
The smell of the dead in the gully.