The Naked Eye Page 4
Beth pointed to Kendra’s pocket, where the USB stick still bulged. “And what was on the memory stick?”
“Data for my music-therapy study. Good thing I didn’t have to show it to him. I might have bored the guy to death.”
Beth threw back her head and laughed. “Good thing.”
“You won’t have to worry about him anymore. As long as you leave town, I think he’ll be happy to forget about the whole thing.”
“That makes two of us.” She paused. “After you tell me how you managed to play Bubba so cleverly. I was watching you and you were able to meet his every response almost before he made it.”
She glanced away. “You described him. He wasn’t hard to analyze.”
“Kendra.”
“He was the easiest mark imaginable.” She looked back at Beth. “Nicholas Marlin would have considered him totally unworthy of using him.”
“Mark?” Beth’s eyes were suddenly eager. “And who’s Nicholas Marlin?”
“Someone I knew from my unsavory past. A friend of a friend.” She sighed. “He was a con artist. He was fairly despicable, but I learned a lot by watching him. He was truly amazing. He could read things about his marks that were totally incredible just by observing body language and facial expression.”
“Then I can see how that would be useful to you.”
“It was. My other senses were honed, but my visual acuity had to be sharpened. I had to know what I was seeing. I learned a lot. Not all of it good. It’s incredible how the human mind can be manipulated if you study just how to push the buttons.” Her lips tightened. “In the end, I tried to forget him and the more sinister aspects of what I’d learned by watching him.”
“Sinister?”
“Drop it.” She smiled with an effort. “And forget it as I’ve done. Except when I need to pull something out of the hat as I did with Harley.”
“Interesting. But then you’re always interesting.”
“Forget about me,” Kendra said firmly. “We obviously have some catching up to do. What have you been doing with yourself, besides morphing into a one-woman army?”
Beth tilted her head. “Why don’t you tell me?”
“What?”
“Come on, Kendra. You don’t have to pretend with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You can probably tell more about me and what I’ve been doing than I could myself.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not psychic.”
“You’re better than psychic. You’re real. I knew it before, and after today, it’s more clear than ever.” She grinned. “Come on. You start, and I’ll fill in the blanks. If there are any.”
“I told you, I tried to forget about that con artist for a reason. Now you’re trying to—”
“Except when you choose to use what you learned. Choose it now. Heck, there’s nothing sinister about me. I just want to see what you can do.”
No, there was nothing sinister or dangerous about Beth, but she could be damnably persistent. “I don’t know what you think I can possibly—”
“Please? Spill it.”
Get it over with.
“Okay. Well, I know you’ve been all over the northern half of the state in just the past couple of weeks. You’ve been in Bear Valley in Colusa, all the way up to northern California, where you spent some time at the Yurok Tribe reservation.”
Beth’s eyes widened. “Wow. Keep going.”
“Somewhere in there, you tried rock climbing, maybe a bit of rappelling in Yosemite?”
“Castle Rock.”
“You drove back on the coastal route. You saw Seahaven. It must have been strange seeing the place that holds many horrible memories for you. Did you actually drive onto the grounds?”
Beth nodded. Her eyes were suddenly glistening, and Kendra could see the tough veneer she tried to assume softening. “As close as I could get. I couldn’t resist going back. It was … drawing me. It’s closed now, and the gates were all locked. It’s actually very beautiful. I never saw much of the outside when I was there.”
“Their license was revoked. I don’t know what’s going to happen to the place.”
Her face tightened. “Good. The sooner it’s gone, the better.”
“I agree.” It was better to change the subject. “You spent some time at or near the beach before cutting across to this part of the state. You made the drive just yesterday.”
“Very good. See, I didn’t have to tell you anything.”
“It’s nothing. I still don’t know how you’ve been thinking and feeling about your new life. I know it’s been an amazing time for you.”
“It has. Mostly good, but not all.” She waved her hands in a “let me have it” motion. “Okay, how the hell did you know all that? Start with the Indian reservation.”
“Your shampoo is very fragrant. A mixture of yucca, soap root, and a bit of vinegar. Only the Yurok tribe makes it quite that way, and they sell it on their reservations.”
“You’re an expert on every shampoo out there?”
“No. Most Americans use one of six shampoos. Anytime I’ve gotten a whiff of one that smells as unique as yours, I’ve made it a point to ask what it was. When you can’t see, how a person smells becomes very important. It’s a big part of that first impression.”
“But you just reeled off my entire route. I know my shampoo didn’t tell you that.”
“It didn’t. Your car did.”
“I already thought of that.” Beth turned back toward her Mercedes. “There are no brochures, no tacky bumper stickers, nothing that could possibly tell you where I’ve been.”
“Your front grill and headlights tell me pretty much everything I need to know.”
Beth crouched in front of her car. “There’s nothing here but a whole mess of squashed bugs. Unless you’re telling me…” She looked up at Kendra. “Really?”
“Even if you’re not into bugs, it’s pretty easy to spot the phosphorous yellow-green splat of fireflies on the front of your car. I’ve never seen fireflies this far south. It tells me you’ve been to a cooler, wetter area. Northern California has them. It also has the biggest Yurok reservation in the entire country, up in Humboldt County.”
“That’s the place.”
Kendra rubbed her hand over the hood and showed Beth the yellow and pinkish dust on her hand. “Pollen from both California poppies and creamcups.”
“You can tell that from just looking?
“And from smelling.” Kendra held her hand up to her nose. “Although the pollen starts losing its scent as soon as it separates from the flowers. The time of year also makes it easier to zero in on them. Plus, I see that your boots are stained from what I suspect were adobe lilies. One place nearby that all three are found in large numbers is the Bear Valley Wildflower Meadows.”
“Very good. You’ve been there?”
“Many times, but not since I’ve been able to see. My mom used to take me there and to the fields in Antelope Valley when the poppies were in bloom. Such amazing smells … It’s like fireworks to a blind person.”
“And I did try rappelling.” She held up her hands. “My fingers took a beating, but that could have been from any one of a number of causes.”
“Not really. The back of your fingers are sunburned from just above the knuckle. You were obviously wearing climbing gloves. Your fingers are cut and bruised in a way that suggests that you were pulling yourself up by some jagged rocks. And the palm of each hand has a faint lateral burn just about where you would grip the rope. Even though there was a glove between the rope and your hand, heat from the rope’s friction was enough to leave a mark.”
“It’s an exhilarating sport. I can’t wait to do it again.”
Kendra smiled. “Take me with you when you do. I’d love to try it.”
“Well, that brings me almost all the way back here. Except how you knew about the coastal route and my visit to Seahaven.”
“The squashed bugs again. There are so
me fairly fresh kelp flies splattered on your headlights and front license plate. Those are found along the coast. The few splotches of fresh seagull excrement on your car helped confirm it. And since you took the coastal route back, there’s no way you wouldn’t have at least seen your old hospital since it looms over the highway.”
“Just as it loomed over my life,” she said moodily. Her smile was forced. “Impressive as always, Kendra. As usual, you’ve met the challenge.” She glanced back at her car. “And most of all, you’ve shown me that I really need to find a car wash. First order of business.”
“What are your plans? After the car wash, of course.”
“I’m not sure.” Beth glanced up the long highway. “I met some people who live in Fresno. I think maybe I’ll go there.”
“You also know someone who lives in San Diego.”
Beth looked away and shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve been meaning to visit you, Kendra. I really have.”
“Then come back with me.”
“Now?”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure … that I’m ready.”
“You don’t have to stay with me though you’re welcome to. If you still think you need some space, we’ll set you up in a spectacular hotel. Or if you’re more comfortable in some fleabag, San Diego has those, too.”
Beth made a face. “Whoa. I may have spent some time in some less than desirable places lately, but that doesn’t mean I still don’t appreciate the finer things in life.”
“A nice bayside hotel will work, then.” She put her hand on Beth’s arm. “No pressure. If you want to spend some more time on the road by yourself, I understand. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
Beth thought about it for a moment. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll start following you back. If I decide to peel off between here and there, no offense. Okay?”
Kendra watched her as she moved around to the driver’s door and unlocked it with her key fob. She understood. Just one more way of clinging to the control that had been stolen from her so long ago. “Sure, Beth. No offense.”
* * *
EVEN WITH HEAVY TRAFFIC ON the I-5 freeway, Kendra and Beth arrived at Kendra’s condo less than three hours later. As Kendra opened the building’s front door, she smiled back over her shoulder. “I thought I was going to lose you in San Clemente.”
“I thought about stopping there … But not today.”
“I’m glad. We’ll have fun here, for however long you can stay. If you’re up to it, I’d love for you to meet some friends of mine. One of them lives right here in the building.”
“Sounds great.”
They took the elevator up to Kendra’s floor, and as they approached the unit, Kendra saw a business card wedged in the doorjam. Kendra took the card and glanced at it.
“Let me guess,” Beth said. “A maid service. A pest-control company. A cute guy down the hall who wants to take you to dinner.”
“No. It’s from an online journalist. Sheila Hunter, a writer from The Kinsley Chronicle.”
“I read that on my iPad every morning. Good reporting, once you get past all the celebrity stuff.”
Kendra turned the card over, where a brief message had been scrawled.
She froze.
Beth leaned closer. “Are you okay?”
Kendra’s mouth went dry, and she could feel her heart pounding. “I—I need to call her. Right away.” Her hand shook as she unlocked the door.
“Kendra, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, I just—” She turned to Beth. “I’ll explain. But first I need to—”
“Make your call,” Beth finished. “Sure. Do you want me to wait out here?”
“No. Come in.”
Kendra pushed open the door, already punching the number on her mobile phone.
The reporter answered on the first ring. “Sheila Hunter.”
“This is Kendra Michaels. I just got your card.” She drew a deep breath. “Is what you wrote on the back of that card true?”
“Dr. Michaels, thanks for getting back to me. I’d like to meet with you and ask some questions about—”
“Never mind that. Is it true?”
Sheila was silent, then answered, “Yes. It’s true. I have proof that Eric Colby is still alive.”
Kendra felt her chest tighten. “You’re not lying? You’re not just trying to get some story?”
“I don’t lie. I’m a reputable journalist. Of course, I’m trying to get a story, but Eric Colby is the story. If you’ll meet me at the rooftop at the W Hotel in an hour, I’ll prove it to you.”
“I’ll be there.” She hung up.
Her heart was beating hard, her hands were cold. She was excited, and yet it was a strange, chilling excitement. Close. Was she close at last?
“Kendra?”
She’d almost forgotten that Beth was standing there. She smiled with an effort as she turned to face her. “Sorry.” She moistened her lips. “I’m going to have to go out for a while. Something is … happening.”
“And it’s not good. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She took a step closer. “How can I help?”
“It may be good. It might be bullshit. I don’t know yet.” But that remark about seeing a ghost struck Kendra to the soul. It was too close to the truth about the call she’d just received about Colby. “I won’t know until I meet with this Sheila Hunter. She has the information. I’ll try to be back as soon as possible.”
Beth shook her head. “You’re upset. You’re one tough woman, and this isn’t like you. I’m not going to let you go by yourself. I won’t interfere, but I’m going to be there for you.”
“I don’t need you to be there for me. I just have to talk to this woman.”
“You talked to her for two minutes, and your hand was shaking when you hung up,” Beth said quietly. “I’m going.”
“I was just surprised. I don’t need you.”
“Just like I didn’t need you when I was in that jail cell. I’ve not had much experience with friendship, but I thought it went both ways.” She paused. “Unless you’re regarding me as a duty and not a friend.”
Dammit, Kendra thought helplessly, the last thing she wanted was to involve Beth or anyone else she cared about in this hunt for Colby, even in this small way. But she couldn’t reject Beth or make her feel she was less than a full person. She’d had to go through too much of that in that mental hospital.
“Okay.” Beth started to turn away. “I guess I was wrong about this. You don’t want or need my help. I’d probably just be in the way.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No, but it was implied. Look, you’re too busy to bother with me right now. It’s okay, I understand. I’ll just go to Fresno as I planned.” She smiled faintly. “If you need me, just give me a call.” She headed for the door. “And like it or not, I’ll be here for you.”
Kendra could have stood whining or arguments. She couldn’t take the dignity and graciousness. And she couldn’t take the idea of Beth’s driving out of town when she’d just made this fragile contact with her again. “Don’t you pull that on me,” Kendra said. “In case you didn’t know, people try to protect their friends, and that’s what I was doing.” She smiled. “But I wasn’t being fair to you by not letting you do the same. So let’s get out of here and get a drink at that bar before we meet the reporter. I think I could use one.”
CHAPTER 3
KENDRA GLANCED UNEASILY AROUND the rooftop bar at the W Hotel just a few blocks from her condo. Decorated with a tall, bonfire-themed fire feature, beach chairs, and several tons of sand, the whimsical nature of the area couldn’t have been more out of tune with Kendra’s edgy mood.
Beth came back to the table with a glass of cabernet for Kendra and a tall green concoction for herself. “Here we go. Though you obviously could use something stronger.”
“What’s that?” Kendra nodded toward Beth’s drink.
“It’s something I invented myself. I call it t
he Angry Leprechaun. It’s mostly Midori, with Frangelica and a kick of spicy rum.” She shrugged. “I spent a few weeks tending bar in Mammoth Lakes.”
“I see.”
Beth sat down. “You’ve been seriously freaked ever since you talked to that reporter we’re meeting. Are you going to tell me why?”
Kendra sipped her drink and looked away. “It goes back to my first criminal investigation. I helped catch a serial killer named Eric Colby.” She paused. “He’s the most terrifying man I’ve ever known.”
Beth wrinkled her brow. “But he was executed a few months ago, right? I couldn’t turn on a TV or go onto the Web without seeing his face.”
“He was officially put to death by lethal injection in front of a roomful of witnesses. But I don’t think it really happened. We know he was working with another killer on the outside. I think this man might have kidnapped the prison physician’s wife and pressured him to administer a drug to simulate Colby’s death. The doctor and his wife were found dead in their car in the Angeles National Forest a few days later.”
“Murdered?”
“It was ruled an accident. I went to the site myself, and the scene had already been so trampled by cops and rescue workers that I couldn’t prove otherwise. It hadn’t been protected as a crime scene.”
“Incredible.”
“It would be if I could prove any of this. He was supposedly cremated that very night, but I also have doubts about that. I’ve been searching for some sign of Colby ever since, but he still hasn’t resurfaced.”
“And this reporter thinks she has the proof you’ve been looking for?”
“That’s what she says.” Kendra shook her head. “I’ve been here skimming some of her other investigative pieces on my phone, and she looks like the real deal.”
“I take that as a compliment, Dr. Michaels.” The voice was brusque but pleasant and came from behind them. They turned to see a slender woman wearing a dark blue suit. She was attractive, with large brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. She extended her hand. “Sheila Hunter.”
“Kendra.” Kendra shook hands and motioned toward Beth. “This is my friend, Beth Avery.”