Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)(20)

Lynch slowed as they turned onto a street covered with several inches of snow. “The plows haven’t been here. We were right to choose four-wheel drive, taco smell and all.”

“So you say.” She looked at the house numbers. “His place is probably at the end, near the cul-de-sac. Four houses down.”

Lynch cut the headlights and pulled to the side of the road. “Let’s walk the rest of the way. Agreed?”

“Agreed. No sense in announcing ourselves any sooner than we have to.”

They climbed out of the Outback and trudged through the snow, making their way past the mostly deserted vacation cottages. They stopped short of Hollister’s house, which was a fanciful Germanic-styled home with yellow-and-blue trim. The house was dark.

“Did we somehow stumble into a Grimm fairy tale?” Lynch asked. “I’m pretty sure this thing is made of gingerbread.”

Kendra looked at a single line that cut through the snow and moved around the house. “I don’t think this motorcycle tread belongs to Hansel or Gretel,” she said as she knelt beside it. “This is fresh.”

“How fresh?”

“Last hour or so. No snow has accumulated on top of the tread marks.” She used her camera to snap a picture of the tread in the snow.

“Well, he did let Waldridge use his car. Maybe now he’s getting around on a bike.”

“Maybe.” Kendra activated the flash on her phone and shined it up ahead. Just before the tread peeled around the house, there was a footprint on either side, as if the rider had paused for a moment. Kendra stood over the print and inspected it. “It’s a SIDI Fusion Lei riding boot, size seven or eight.” She looked up. “This was a woman.”

He raised his brows. “SIDI Fusion Lei…?”

“In my wild days, a lot of my friends were bikers. This is a hot-looking boot. It’s hard to miss.”

“Even from just a footprint in the snow?”

Kendra shrugged. “I thought about buying a pair myself once.”

Lynch looked up at the front porch. “No footprints up there. No one has come or gone in the last day or so.”

“Let’s check around back. It looks like that’s what the motorcycle rider did.”

They circled around back, following the tread to the large expanse of land behind the house. It was darker here, but the snow-covered ground reflected the half-moon with a blue, iridescent glow.

Kendra motioned toward the back of house, where the footprints told the story. “Whoever the motorcycle rider was, she checked the back door and windows. After that, she circled around…” Kendra’s eyes followed the line of footprints behind her, which appeared to circle a dark object half-covered in snow. “What’s that?”

Lynch was already heading toward it. “Wait here.”

“No way.” She half waded, half hopped, through the snow, but Lynch got there first.

He whirled sharply toward her. “Stay back!”

“What makes you think you can—”

She froze in her tracks, suddenly realizing what he’d seen, what he was trying to keep her from seeing.

A body. A dead body.

Waldridge?

“Oh, God. Is it—?”

He crouched next to the corpse. “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

She made herself walk over and kneel next to him. Someone else had already brushed some of the snow off the body’s head and chest. But not enough, she couldn’t tell— She reached out, but Lynch stopped her. “I’ll do it.”

She shook her head. “It should be me.”

Don’t let it be him, she prayed. Don’t let all that brilliance and dedication end like this. Her hand was shaking as she carefully brushed off the rest of the loose snow.

She stopped as she saw the plump features and straggly white hair. It wasn’t Waldridge.

Thank God.

“It’s Hollister,” Lynch said. “Or whatever his name really was. He was shot in the chest. Looks like he’s been out here a couple of days, at least.”

Kendra nodded. “He may have been dead even before Waldridge came to see me. But why? And why here?”

Then something occurred to her. “The motorcycle tracks … Which way did they go?”

Lynch pointed to a clump of trees and brush. “They go in that direction…”

Kendra stiffened as her gaze followed where he was pointing. She whispered, “But where does it come out, Lynch?”

A single blinding headlight flooded through the trees and a motorcycle engine roared to life!

Before Kendra could even react, the cycle and its rider burst through the brush and spun its wheels in the snow.

It roared back around the house and hit the street.

Lynch was already running for the car. “Come on!”

They scrambled toward the Outback and piled in. Lynch started the engine and turned the wheel hard left. “Buckle up. I’m not sure what this thing can do.”

“There’s no way we can catch her.”

“We can sure as hell try.”

He jammed the accelerator and spun the Outback up the street. The back end fishtailed on the snow and ice.

Kendra glanced over at him. “That’s not good. Too slick. How does it feel?”