Night Watch (Kendra Michaels #4)(37)
“He’s one of the best.”
“Okay, so how did you get him to do it? Let me guess … You once rescued him from the clutches of a Macau crime syndicate?”
“No.”
“You sprung a family member from one of China’s notorious ‘black jails?’”
Lynch laughed. “Afraid not. I got Huang here the old-fashioned way. I offered him an obscene amount of money.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“You’ve been through a lot today. I figured you deserved it.”
She eyed his leather suitcase in the corner. “You’re serious about staying here.”
“I am. Unless I can change your mind about coming to my place.”
Kendra thought for a moment, then nodded toward the living room. “The couch isn’t so bad.”
Lynch smiled. “It’s a nice night. Let’s load up our plates and take these up to the roof. There’s a sundeck up there, isn’t there?”
She nodded. “It was one of the perks that made me buy the condo.”
They toted their dinners and a bottle of wine to the table on the rooftop deck, which was illuminated only by the downtown city lights. After eating a plate of the most delicious Mapo doufu she had ever tasted, Kendra leaned back contentedly with her glass of wine. It was good to gaze out at the lights and just let herself relax. Lynch was always disturbing, but tonight he had turned down that high-powered appeal to low voltage, and she felt almost comfortable with him.
“This feels wonderful. I can almost think.” She paused. “You know, I was pretty scared today.”
His lips tightened. “I know you were.”
“And I’m still trying to understand what happened.” She took a sip of wine. “And why.”
“Are you working on anything else?” Lynch asked. “Any other open cases?”
“No, it’s been months. I have to think it’s related to what happened to Waldridge.”
“I can’t disagree. And it’s significant that they wanted you alive. In my experience, people only do that if they think you have something they want.”
“Like what?”
“Information.”
“What information? I’m still trying to figure out what the hell is going on.”
“Those men might not know that. And you were the last person to see Waldridge. Maybe they think he told you something or gave you something.”
“But he didn’t.”
“If they don’t know that…” He leaned forward, gazing down at the wine in his glass. “We might be able to use it.”
“What do you have in mind?”
“Nothing at the moment, but it’s always good to keep our eyes peeled for any kind of leverage we can exert.”
She smiled. “And it’s always interesting to see how the Puppetmaster’s mind works.” She amended, “When it’s not being used to manipulate me.”
He quickly veered away from dangerous waters. “It’s not half as interesting as watching yours at work. What are you thinking about all this?”
She shrugged. “Right now I’m wondering about my Fusion-Lei-boots-wearing savior.”
“So am I.” He grinned. “I’m a little peeved. Swooping in for last-minute heroics is my job.”
“Yeah, sure. Not likely. Well, maybe on occasion.” Kendra stood up and looked out at the shimmering, twinkling lights of the city. “Was she following me or them? Or did she somehow know about their plan in advance? She said something about things she’d heard about me.” She made a face. “It wasn’t complimentary. But right now, she’s the one I want to talk to.”
“And you’re sure she’s the same person we were chasing in Big Bear last night.”
“Positive. Designer riding boots aside. I recognized her voice from the 911 tape we heard at the Big Bear police station. It was definitely the same woman.”
“But no one you’ve ever met before?”
“Never. I’m sure of that even though I couldn’t see her face behind that helmet visor.”
Lynch stood up and came over to stand beside her. “But I’m sure that hasn’t stopped you from picking up some useful information about her. Am I right?”
Kendra shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she’s from California. Maybe up in the Central Valley around Bakersfield. She’s around thirty, but she’s already traveled a lot in Western Europe. Maybe even lived there for a while. She’s ex-military.”
Lynch’s lips quirked. “You couldn’t tell which branch?”
“Sorry. She was riding the same motorcycle as she was last night. She didn’t ride far, though. She’s either staying nearby or more likely she’s driving a truck or van that she uses to tote the motorcycle around.”
“Really?”
Kendra nodded.
“Okay, curiosity won’t be denied. I’m not letting one more second pass without some explanations. I’m assuming the geographic data came from her speech patterns.”
“Simple linguistics.”
“Not so simple, but go ahead.”
“Central Valley residents have a slight but unmistakable twang. It’s a carryover from the Dust Bowl migrant days. I’d say she’s from north of Bakersfield. She’s picked up a few vowel suppressions that are associated with exposure to Romance languages. It can be acquired from a relative or spouse, but more likely to come from longer-term travels.”