Double Blind--A Novel Read online

  She opened her door. “I’ll sleep just fine, thank you.”

  “I’m not sure I will.”

  “What time will you be here to pick me up tomorrow?”

  “Eleven.”

  “Good, I can catch up on some work.” She hesitated. She didn’t want to leave him, dammit. “Thanks, Lynch. For everything.”

  “Of course.”

  She gazed at him for a long moment. She wanted to touch him.

  Oh, what the hell.

  “Bye.” She leaned in to give him a quick hug, but at the last moment it became something else.

  She kissed him on the mouth, pressing her lips against his, then lingering for a moment after. She kissed him again. Crazy. This was crazy. She tried to pull away, but Lynch was holding her close.

  “I’m staying,” he whispered.

  “No. I don’t tease, but this kind of got away from me. But not tonight. Okay?”

  “It’s not okay.”

  She leaned her forehead against his. The scent of him, the warmth … “It has to be. For now. I’m confused enough about what’s going on. I won’t be confused about you. Everything has to be clear in my head, dammit.”

  “Kendra…”

  She climbed out of the car and closed the door behind her. “No.” She strode toward the door before she could change her mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I almost had you,” he called softly. “And I didn’t even try. Think about it. You’re not really confused at all.”

  “Goodbye, Lynch.”

  She stopped just inside the door to get her breath.

  Close. It had been so close. Her entire body was still hot and shaking from those last minutes. Her heart was beating hard and she wanted to run back out to him. Why not?

  Just do it. He was probably right, she knew what she wanted, and she was just putting off making a final commitment.

  Take the time.

  Don’t think about him.

  Easy to say. He seemed to fill her world right now.

  But she didn’t want him to be her entire world. He was too dominant and she’d have to struggle every minute to hold her own against him. Very dangerous.

  Yet when had she ever been afraid to face a challenge? And he might be the greatest one of all.

  Be sensible. Give herself a chance to forget about sex and not let herself be carried away by that sheer magnetism that was always present.

  And don’t think about him.

  CHAPTER

  6

  “IT’S UP THERE.” Kendra pointed to a two-story building that blended with the desert around them.

  It was the first sign of life they’d seen since pulling off the freeway ten minutes earlier and Kendra still wasn’t sure they had arrived at their destination. “It’s not what I expected.”

  “It used to be a junior high school,” Lynch said. “It had been abandoned for years when Brock Limited took it over. It came in handy for training their agents in simulated hostage situations. School shootings, workplace violence…”

  Her brows rose. “Isn’t that the police’s job?”

  “In most places. But there are countries where local law enforcement just isn’t very good at that stuff. It’s easier for companies to recruit top talent for overseas positions if they can assure their safety. That’s where Brock security comes in. They’re not just bodyguards. They’re trained to handle any dangerous situation that might come up.”

  “Even if it means stepping on a few toes?”

  “It’s amazing how a few thousand dollars to the right person can make local police forgive just about anything. Brock is famous for their little black doctor bags stuffed with cash.”

  “Institutionalized bribery. Great.”

  “Trust me, sometimes it’s the easiest way to get the job done.”

  “So you give away little black doctor bags, too?”

  “I prefer jackets with cash sewn in the lining.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You probably should be working for them.”

  “Absolutely not. My methods differ from theirs in a number of ways.”

  “The more you say that, the less I believe you.”

  “Believe me.”

  She did believe him. His voice was quiet but emphatic and she was suddenly curious what experiences had led to that very specific directness. “Still, Brock seems to think you’d be a good fit.”

  “If it gives us access, I’ll let them keep believing it.” He nodded to a tall bearded man standing in the building parking lot. “There’s our welcoming committee. Josh Blake himself. As I told you, he heads this training facility at the moment.”

  She gazed at Blake appraisingly. “He doesn’t look so tough. I thought he’d be one of those he-man, special forces types.”

  He shrugged. “He’s no pussycat, but he actually has a corporate background. His value to Brock lies in the fact that he’s both efficient and can be totally ruthless if the occasion demands.” He pulled into the lot and parked.

  Blake approached as they climbed out of the car. He was obviously amused at the sight of Lynch’s Ferrari. “You’re still driving this hunk of junk?”

  Lynch shrugged. “There’s nothing better.”

  Blake smiled, flashing a set of teeth that was slightly too white. He was tanned, fit, and appeared extremely sure of himself. “I’m joking. I own two Ferraris. But lately I’ve been tooling around in that Gallardo.” Blake pointed to a bright green Lamborghini sports car behind them. “You haven’t lived until you’ve driven one of those.”

  “I have driven one,” Lynch said. “I just like a car that hugs the road a bit more.”

  “To each his own.” He extended his hand to Kendra. “Josh Blake. And who are you, pretty lady?”

  Lots of white teeth and his voice had lowered to what he must have believed was sexual intimacy. She tried not to look too repulsed by his smarmy charm as she took his hand. “Kendra Michaels.”

  He smiled as his hand tightened on hers. “Perhaps I can give you a ride and you can cast the deciding vote.”

  She pulled her hand away. “I always leave it to men to decide the relative merits of their sports cars and reproductive organs. It appears to be the two things you guys always seem to love talking about.”

  Blake laughed out loud and glanced at Lynch. “Wow. I would be offended, but I think she’s probably right.”

  “Right about some of us more than others,” Lynch said.

  “I won’t deny it.” Blake cocked his head toward the facility behind them. “Shall we? I’ve been wanting you to see this place for quite a while.”

  They followed Blake around the other side of the building to what appeared to be a copy of an army basic training camp, with barracks, shooting ranges, and a challenging obstacle course. Every square inch of the facility was in use.

  “This place is packed,” Lynch said.

  “We just can’t hire all the people we need. Business is booming. The world’s getting scarier every day and our clients pay us well to make it a little less frightening for them.”

  Kendra jumped at the sound of gunshots in the building behind them.

  “Sorry about that.” Blake motioned toward the building. “We’re running a drill in there today. An elementary school hostage situation. In some overseas markets, we hold workshops for local law enforcement personnel.”

  “You’re teaching them?” Kendra said.

  “Where we can. It’s all a part of being good guests in their countries. Our tactical teams actually have contracts with several foreign governments as well as with the U.S.” He motioned for them to follow him to a small trailer parked next to the building. “You’ll be interested in this.”

  They entered the trailer, which looked like the control room of a small television studio. Eight men sat at consoles, watching monitors that displayed what appeared to be a very authentic schoolhouse assault. One man spoke into his headset. “Attacker Two, move out of the stairwell.”

  On the scre
ens, Kendra saw a black-garbed man with a rifle climb from the stairs and surprise an armed woman standing there. He fired his rifle, and the woman’s armbands and baseball-style cap started flashing.

  “That means she’s dead,” Blake said. “It’s her first time in this simulation. She’ll learn.”

  “I have to admit it’s an impressive operation you have here,” Lynch said. “How long is the training?”

  “A minimum of sixteen weeks. It’s a long time by the standards of our industry, but it separates us from our competitors. Our instructors are ex-special forces, FBI, and CIA.”

  “I know a few of them. You have some good people.”

  “The best. That’s why we want you.” He cocked his head toward the door and led them outside. He stopped and turned back toward Lynch. “But you know … Somehow I don’t think you’re looking for a job, Lynch.”

  Lynch nodded. “You’re right about that. Not at the moment. Though I always keep my options open.”

  “And I’ll try to make certain you keep us in mind when you see what a good team we’d make. So why are you here?”

  “As it happens, we’re helping the FBI on a murder investigation. I thought you might be of help.”

  Kendra stepped forward. “Elena Meyer. Did you know her?”

  Blake thought for a moment. “Meyer…” He shook his head. “No.”

  “That’s a little strange. Since she was part of the legal team that handled a case for you here in San Diego.”

  “Really? I know almost everyone on that team. Are you sure—?”

  Kendra raised her phone and showed him Elena Meyer’s portrait photo. “This is her. Ring any bells?”

  He studied the screen. “Yeah … Yeah. But she was from another office. An assistant?”

  “A paralegal. She was from the firm’s Connecticut office.”

  He looked up from the screen. “She’s dead?”

  “Murdered,” Lynch said. “Killed on a street downtown. You haven’t heard about it?”

  “If I did, it didn’t make an impression. And I certainly didn’t realize it was anyone I’d ever met.”

  “No one can tell us why she was here in town,” Kendra said. “Was it something about your company’s case that brought her back?”

  “No. The case was over. It was actually one of the least contentious cases we’ve dealt with lately.”

  “You get sued a lot?” Kendra said.

  “Goes with the territory.” His white smile flashed. “When you’re as successful as we are, there’s a lot of jealousy. Hundreds of millions in income come from the government, so that opens us up to all kinds of oversight committees, congressional review, media scrutiny, you name it. If we’re too aggressive in protecting our clients, we can get sued. If we’re not aggressive enough, our clients might sue us for failing to deliver. We settle most cases, then go to court for the others.” His smiled faded. “I’m being honest with you when I say there was nothing special about this case. Have you spoken with her firm?”

  “We have,” Kendra said.

  “And?”

  “They agree with you. They say the case—and the outcome—were strictly routine.”

  Blake nodded. “Still, it’s a tragedy what happened to her. We have some world-class investigators on our payroll. Why don’t I put a couple of them on the case? It’s the least I can do.”

  “We’re fine,” Lynch said.

  “My people are good. You said so yourself.”

  “If we need help, we’ll ask,” Lynch said. “But thanks for the offer.”

  Blake raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. Just trying to help.”

  “You can help by asking the people in your organization if anyone has any idea who may have done that to her,” Kendra said.

  “Done.”

  “You know how to reach me,” Lynch said. “If you think of anything—”

  “Wait a minute. You don’t get away that easily. I cleared my schedule because I thought I finally had a shot at reeling you in.”

  Lynch shrugged. “Sorry for your inconvenience.”

  “You can make it up to me.”

  “How’s that?”

  Blake smiled. “Walk with me just a few yards. To the target range.”

  “Why?”

  “Your shooting scores at Quantico were through the roof. One of our guys was even in your class. He says it was quite a thing to behold.”

  “He was probably exaggerating.”

  “He wasn’t. I’ve seen your scores.”

  Lynch cocked an eyebrow. “I thought those things were confidential.”

  “They are. I just happen to be extremely well-connected.” He motioned toward the shooting range, which was set up to resemble a typical city street. “Please.” His tone was wheedling. “It won’t take you long and I want to see if you’re worth the effort I’ve been exerting.”

  Lynch shrugged. “Whatever.”

  He and Kendra followed Blake to the range as he continued. “You’ve seen setups like this before. Life-size human-shaped targets will jump out periodically.”

  “Of course,” Lynch said. “Kill the bad guys, spare the children and nuns. Fairly straightforward.”

  “The way I understand it, there’s nothing straightforward about the way you shoot.”

  Blake reached into his shoulder holster and produced a large Walther semiautomatic handgun.

  “I’d be honored if you would give it a shot.”

  Lynch took the gun. “No pun intended, I’m sure.”

  “None whatsoever.”

  Lynch ejected the magazine, checked it, and popped it back in. He turned the gun over in his hands. “Nice.”

  “She hasn’t let me down yet.”

  Kendra smiled. “You’re the first man I’ve ever met who thought of his gun as a ‘she.’”

  “Do I sense another phallic joke on the way?”

  “No. But it does make me wonder about the relationship you have with women.”

  Blake smirked and shook his head. “If you’re that interested, maybe I can show you.”

  She had let herself in for that one, Kendra thought. But she still had to look away to hide her disgust. Ugh.

  Lynch nodded toward the practice range. “Where do you want me to start?”

  “All the way at the left end. Work your way to the right as quickly as you can.” He glanced at the button a few inches away on the side of the building. “All I have to do is press this button and the fun begins.”

  Lynch glanced into the gun barrel, then turned to angle it into the sun. He looked back up at Blake. “You have a problem.”

  “What’s that?”

  Lynch handed the gun back to him. “You have a barrel obstruction. A serious one.”

  Blake looked inside the barrel.

  Lynch said with dangerous softness, “I don’t need to tell you what might have happened if I’d tried to fire it. The gun probably would have blown up in my hands. I could have been killed.” He glanced at Kendra. “And anyone close to me could have been killed.”

  “Killed? I don’t know about that.”

  “You want to fire that gun? Go ahead. Just give us time to move away from you.”

  Blake inspected his gun more closely. “Looks like the inside of the barrel stripped and fused in a mass. Don’t know how that could have happened. Sorry, Lynch. Let me get another one for you to use.”

  “I don’t think so. Inefficiency annoys me.”

  “Aw, come on.” He unfastened a walkie-talkie clipped to his belt. “I’ll have another one brought over from—”

  “No, thanks. I’ve decided I don’t have the time.” Lynch’s gaze was ice cold. “Ask around, see if anyone has anything to share about Elena Meyer. If you dig up something for us, then maybe we’ll come back.”

  Kendra was warily watching Lynch’s expression as he turned away. He was usually cool and ultracollected in any situation. She had seldom seen him this close to an explosion.

  Lynch turned towar
d Kendra and jerked his head toward the parking lot. As they started walking, Lynch called over his shoulder. “And get that gun repaired. Someone could get hurt.”

  The anger was still there. She could sense the explosion was still on the horizon.

  She murmured, “Lynch?”

  “It’s okay. I just don’t like the game he was trying to play with—” He broke off and stopped, standing very still. “Oh, what the hell! Why not?” He whirled on Blake, his eyes gleaming recklessly. “I’ve changed my mind. I do have the time.” His fingers brushed under the lapel of his jacket and his semiautomatic was suddenly in his grasp. Before Kendra could comprehend what she had seen, he fired a spray of bullets at the large wall-mounted metal button. The block-long shooting range whirred to life.

  Then he was on the move!

  Kendra gasped at the figures that suddenly appeared on the street. They looked incredibly real from a distance, given away only by their gliding, rather than walking, over thin tracks in the pavement.

  There was a postman, a little boy, a couple making out on a bench …

  Lynch spun around and shot the young couple, blowing the tops of their heads away.

  Only then did Kendra see that the figures were using their closeness to hide small assault weapons.

  Several curtains and window blinds slightly parted, mimicking the effect of witnesses peering out from their homes and businesses.

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Lynch fired at three of the second-story windows, leaving the rest undisturbed. Glass shattered and simulated blood sprayed across the windows. A gun barrel fell through one of the sills.

  “Holy shit,” Blake whispered. “He got all three.” He looked at his tablet computer, which showed Lynch’s rapidly-tabulating score.

  More pedestrians appeared and Lynch extended his gun in front of him, holding it with both hands. He spun around as he moved down the street, keeping the entire target range in his field of view.

  Next up was a police officer, a kid on a skateboard, an old lady carrying groceries …

  BLAM!

  Lynch shot the old lady, firing through one of the bags in her arms. The bag ripped, showing that it was covering a sawed-off shotgun aimed at Lynch. The lady target fell to the ground.