Look Behind You Page 8

  She quickly dialed her number.

  Jessie answered on the third ring. She did not sound pleased. “The last time you called me in the middle of the night I ended up on a jet to an undisclosed location, and I had to put my business on hold for weeks, Kendra. This had better not be a repeat.”

  “It’s not; you know that was an emergency.”

  “And this isn’t? It had better be. It’s four-thirty.”

  “I know. And you have a right to be upset with me. Right now it’s only an emergency to me. I woke up and realized I needed help and that it had to be you. I hoped you wouldn’t mind if I woke you a little early.”

  “More than a little.” She was silent. “You’re in trouble?”

  “Not personally. I just thought I’d see if I could hire you to work on something that—”

  “It sounds personal to me. I know you, too, Kendra. You wouldn’t call at this time of night if you weren’t pretty upset. You’re very cool and savvy. So let’s cut to the chase. I’m hearing hesitation. I want to see your face while you’re trying to persuade me to do this job for you. But I need a cup of coffee and a shower. I’ll have time to get them if you come to my office in LA instead of me coming to you. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Kendra drew a deep breath. “Thanks.”

  “I haven’t taken the job yet. You’re my friend, so you’ve got a good chance, but I try to keep friendship and business in separate compartments.” She added ruefully, “It doesn’t always work out that way. But I’m relying on the fact that you’d generally not involve me in anything that would hurt me physically or financially. Okay, then I’ll see you at my office in a couple hours.” She ended the call.

  And Kendra would have to get her own coffee from Starbucks on the road. But that was fine, she had a chance to convince Jessie to help her untangle that knot. One step closer. She got to her feet and headed for the bathroom.

  * * *

  KENDRA DROVE TO SANTA Monica, which took her only slightly more than ninety minutes despite some momentary confusion from her phone’s map app in the final blocks of her journey. It was close to dawn when she finally found herself on a pleasant, tree-lined stretch of Montana Avenue, just a couple of miles from the beach. The stores were small and charming, as was the art deco Aero Movie Theater, which seemed to specialize in classic films. Kendra walked around the theater to a side alley. She thought she was in the wrong place, until she saw a door with a small plaque that read MERCADO INVESTIGATIONS. Kendra pulled open the door and climbed a narrow staircase that ended in a tiny reception area. There was no one behind the receptionist’s desk, but a red-haired young woman in faded designer jeans and a black t-shirt was curled up, sleeping on a leather couch. She didn’t stir when Kendra came into the office.

  “Hello?” Kendra asked.

  The young woman finally opened her eyes. “Oh, hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “You’re here to see Jessie?”

  “Yes. Is she in?”

  “I think she ran into trouble on the freeway. She called me to see if I was here about a half hour ago and told me to tell you. I guess I must have fallen back asleep. Too much wine at that party…” The young woman sat up and scooted to the end of the couch. “Have a seat. Want something to drink? I think there’s water and juice in that fridge.”

  Kendra didn’t sit down. “Uh, no. Thanks. Will Jessie be long?”

  “No idea. I don’t even know how long I was asleep.”

  Kendra studied her. She was even younger than she’d first thought, with a dewy complexion and gray-green eyes. “You look familiar. Have we met?”

  “Don’t think so, but I get that a lot.” She extended her hand. “I’m Dee.”

  Kendra shook her hand. “Kendra Michaels. How long have you worked for Jessie?”

  “Oh, I don’t work for her.” Dee covered a yawn. “Actually, she used to work for me.”

  At that moment, Jessie Mercado appeared in the doorway. “Good morning, Kendra.” She was wearing black leather pants and boots and was as lean and toned as she’d been when Kendra had last seen her. She was always a study in contrasts, with that shining dark hair worn in an urchin cut surrounding her delicate features and those enormous brown eyes that belied her sleek toughness. “Sorry I kept you waiting. Construction traffic.”

  “No problem.”

  “I made her feel welcome,” Dee said. “But you really need to get a receptionist.”

  Jessie made a face. “Or maybe just a bouncer to keep you out. You have a gorgeous home, Dee. Go sleep there.”

  “Too many people there. And what kind of talk is that?” Dee stood. “Admit it, you need me to give this place a little flair.”

  “I really don’t.”

  “Sure you do. I’ll convince you someday.” Dee nodded to Kendra. “Nice to meet you. Don’t believe the unpleasant things she’s about to tell you about me. She doesn’t really mean them.”

  Jessie took Dee by the arm and steered her to the door. “Hard as it might be to believe, we may actually have things to discuss other than you.”

  “As if.” Dee started down the long stairway. “See you tomorrow, Jessie.”

  “No,” she said firmly. “Don’t count on it. I may not be here.”

  “Then the next day!” she called up.

  “Dee…”

  “I’ll bring coffee!”

  At the bottom of the stairs, the door opened and slammed shut.

  Dee was gone.

  “Is that who I think it was?” Kendra asked.

  Jesse nodded. “My old boss. Delilah Winter, worldwide pop music phenomenon. Twenty years old, Grammy winner, rabid fans in every corner of the globe, and all she wants to do is hang out in these humble digs.”

  “You used to be her head of security, right?”

  “Yep.” Jesse looked down the stairway to make sure Dee had left. “The trippiest year and a half of my life. She tries to lure me back every time she comes here. One day she showed up with a knapsack stuffed with a million dollars in cash. All mine if I would agree to head up security for her year-long world tour.”

  “You didn’t take it?”

  “Nah. Not worth the aggravation. And besides, I had to teach her not to depend on me. She zoomed to the top when she was in her early teens and you can imagine the chaos of her life. She’s a nice kid, though. But vulnerable and kind of lonely. I think she likes coming here because it’s the one place she can go where no one wants anything from her. She kept dropping in on me at all times of the day and night, and I finally gave her a key.” She sighed. “Though if I’d known she was going to be here so often, I could have used that money she was offering to get a nicer office.”

  Kendra glanced around their surroundings. “I like it. I’ve never known anybody with an office over a movie theater.”

  “Well, you do now. It’s not a bad spot. Sometimes it gets a little noisy, especially when they’re playing an old war movie downstairs. And on the weekends they run the films twenty-four hours a day.” She cocked her head back toward the open door. “Come inside.”

  Kendra followed her through the doorway to her office, which was only slightly larger than the cramped waiting room. There was a worn mahogany desk that was a perfect match for the built-in shelves that lined the front of the room. The crown and corner molding continued the art deco design from the theater façade, and a side window offered a view of the street outside. The back wall of the room was covered with photographs depicting Jessie’s colorful background: her time as a soldier in Afghanistan, a stuntwoman on a cheesy superhero movie, a contestant on American Ninja, and her stint as Delilah Winter’s bodyguard and security chief. Kendra doubted if those photos depicted even a quarter of Jessie’s experiences. Jessie was a very private person who seldom spoke of any of those events of her past nor the people who had lived them with her. Kendra regarded Jessie as a good friend, but that friendship was based on the fact that they’d gone through a multiple amount of emotions and experiences in the sh
ort time they’d known each other. She had found Jessie honest and amusing and ready to go the extra mile if a friend needed her. It wasn’t often you happened on someone like that.

  Jessie grimaced when she saw Kendra looking at the photos. “Sorry about those. Not very modest of me, but they’re good for business. Clients like the idea that I didn’t earn my detective license by taking a course on the Internet.”

  “You’ve had a lot of amazing experiences. People should know that.”

  “Oh, I just can’t make up my mind. I think about replacing them every day.” She motioned toward the two chairs in front of her desk. “But you didn’t come here to give me design tips. Have a seat.”

  “I’ll stand if you don’t mind. I’ve been in the car all morning on the drive from San Diego, and I have to drive straight back after I leave here.”

  “Fine.” Jessie sat on the edge of her desk. “So what’s going on? You need someone followed? A background check?” She added slyly, “Another world-renowned research scientist you need hidden away?”

  “No, but you did do that superbly.” She made a face and then said, “Something much nastier, I’m afraid. You’ll probably throw me out. I could use your help to catch a serial killer.”

  Jesse raised her brows. “Wow. Is that all?”

  “Okay. It’s asking a lot, I know.”

  “You think?”

  “If you’re not interested, I under—”

  “I didn’t say that,” she interrupted. “It sounds a hell of a lot more interesting than busting the balls of some Beverly Hills adulterer or tailing some movie star’s daughter to make sure she doesn’t buy drugs. Two of my most recent jobs by the way. A serial killer kind of sounds like a breath of fresh air to me.” She tilted her head. “Unless I’ve just disqualified myself by making such a psychotic admission.”

  “Not at all.” Kendra suddenly chuckled. “Which is either a reflection of how much I respect you or how desperate I’ve become. Take your pick.”

  “Desperation, I like it.” Jessie smiled. “And I’m curious why you came to me. So that’s an added incentive to the desperation. How can I help?”

  Kendra stepped away from the wall of photos. “We’ve had four murders in the past week. Have you heard about them?”

  “In San Diego? Sure. They’re all over the news. You’re right, that is nasty. But your police department hasn’t officially linked them, have they?”

  “That’s about to change. The FBI has taken over the investigation, and they’ve asked me to help out.”

  “Good. At least they’ve done one thing right.” She paused. “And are you going to do it? The last time I saw you I thought you only wanted to get back to teaching your kids.”

  “I did.” She shook her head. “But yes, I’m going to do it.” Her lips tightened. “I have to do it.”

  “Why?” Jessie’s gaze narrowed on her face. “Bored?”

  “No, of course not,” she said impatiently. “That’s my chosen career. I always find it fascinating and challenging. It’s just that those killings are … different.”

  Jessie’s lips quirked. “And also fascinating and challenging?”

  “No.” She shuddered. “Hideous and scary.”

  Jessie’s smile disappeared. “And that’s where the nasty comes in. You don’t scare easily. I take it the crime scenes are even worse than the journalists are hinting?”

  “Much worse. Someone’s got to stop him, Jessie.”

  Jessie nodded. “And you’re pulling out all the tricks you can find to try to do that. It’s really bothering you, isn’t it?”

  “It will bother you, too.”

  “Nah, not much does these days. I’m a tough nut, Kendra.”

  “Not that tough. I know you, Jessie.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe not. Tell me about it. Are the cases linked, or not?”

  “They are linked, but in a way none of us has ever encountered before. We’ve uncovered something … unusual.”

  “Yeah?”

  Kendra told her about the souvenirs and their links to the earlier murder cases in other cities. After she was finished, Jessie sat in thoughtful silence.

  Kendra gestured for a response. “Well?”

  “I’m just trying to process this. If what you’re telling me is true, this guy has been at this for over a decade. He’s adopted four MO’s, each different enough that nobody has ever put them together.”

  “Well, we put them together.”

  “Only because the killer wanted you to.”

  “Exactly. And we have no idea why he’s chosen this moment to step forward and connect the dots for us.”

  “Okay … What help do you think I can be?”

  Kendra hesitated before speaking. “Well, there are some potential legal ramifications in what I’m about to ask. If the answer is no, I’d appreciate it if you keep this conversation between us.”

  Jessie lowered her voice melodramatically. “Ooh, I do like the sound of this.”

  “I thought you might. The forbidden usually intrigues you. I’ve been looking over the case files, and in a few of the killings it was obvious that the victim had been tied up before the murder occurred. The rope was never left behind but in two cases there was a recognizable impression left on the victims’ skin.”

  “Recognizable as what?” Jessie asked.

  “A clove hitch.”

  “And what, exactly, is that?”

  “It’s a knot. It’s one of five knots that Navy SEALs have to tie in an underwater test before they can graduate.”

  “How in the hell do you know what that looks like?”

  “I live in San Diego, remember? Home of the SEAL training school. At any given time, there are scores of incredibly fit young adults walking around town with short lengths of rope so that they can practice whenever an opportunity presents itself. Sit in a Starbucks long enough, you’re bound to see one practicing underwater test knots over their Caramel Macchiato.”

  “Hmm. Do Navy SEALs really drink Caramel Macchiatos?”

  “Okay, bad example. But you get my point. It’s a knot I’ve seen and can recognize. And it happens that each of the other four cities are near Navy bases: Oxnard is very close to Port Hueneme; Washington, D.C.; is near Naval Station Norfolk; Jacksonville, Florida, is a short drive to Naval Station Mayport; and Hartford, Connecticut, is near the New London Naval Submarine base.”

  Jessie thought about this. “Just to satisfy my own curiosity, you didn’t know that off the top of your head, did you?”

  “Afraid not. Google is my friend. I knew about Oxnard and Hartford, which is what made me look up the other two once I recognized that knot.”

  “Nobody in the FBI ever figured this out?”

  “They didn’t know the cases were connected, remember? And it’s possible someone recognized the impression of that knot, but there’s nothing in the case files about pursuing a military angle.”

  “Did you tell the FBI about this?”

  “I will. I wanted to talk to you first.”

  “The million-dollar question: Why?”

  Kendra paused for a moment, trying to think of a way to explain it to her. There was no way she wanted to offend her. Jessie had done two tours in Afghanistan. “Military cases can be difficult. I’ve been involved in a case that crossed over military lines before and it was a nightmare. There were communication problems, secrecy issues, egos, and general stonewalling. I’m sure the FBI will hit that again but we don’t have time for it. Three more people could be dead by the time we cut through the red tape. You have connections everywhere, and I thought with your military background, you might be able to find out if there’s any one person who has been stationed at each of those bases during these times.”

  Jessie bit her lip. “These are Navy bases. You do know I was in the Army, don’t you?”

  “Of course. I just thought—”

  “You thought the United States Armed Forces are all just one big happy family?”


  “I know better than that, but I was still hoping—”

  “As it happens, I do have some connections I can tap. But it’s far from a sure thing, and you should definitely get the FBI working on it from their end.”

  “I will as soon as I get back.” Kendra reached into her pocket and produced an index card. “Here are the places and date ranges for each series of murders. If you need anything else, let me know.”

  Jessie took the card and looked it over. She murmured, “You know who would love to help you out with this, don’t you?”

  She stiffened. “If you say Adam Lynch…”

  “You know it’s true.”

  “I don’t need his help. Besides, he’s in China.”

  “Too bad.” Jessie pocketed the card. “I got to know him when we were away tying up the loose ends of your last case. I was very wary of him in the beginning. But he’s a pretty amazing guy.”

  Kendra shook her head. Jessie wasn’t the type to impress easily but apparently no one was immune to Lynch’s charisma.

  “He certainly thinks he’s amazing.”

  Jessie smiled. “You don’t think so?”

  Kendra shrugged. “He has his moments.”

  “Well, from what I can see, he’d like to spend quite a few of those moments involved in extremely carnal games with you. Though I can understand why you’re hesitant to get involved with a guy like that.”

  Kendra said, exasperated, “Why is it that everyone has an opinion on my and Lynch’s relationship, or rather, our lack of one?”

  Jessie crossed to the other side of her desk and shoved some folders into a worn leather knapsack. “Because everyone in the peanut gallery can see the sparks flying. You have to admit, there are some major sparks there.”

  “Then why did you say I should be hesitant? Not that I disagree with you.”

  “I’ve been involved with men like that. Well, maybe not quite as intense as Lynch, but close enough. They roar into your life with all the subtlety of a Mack truck and suck up all the oxygen in the room. Sometimes there just isn’t much left for yourself. It can be fun, but it can also be intense and all-consuming.”