distraught over the fact I would insinuate such a thing. And, if she had killed him, the nonsense with the impostor Lynch wouldn’t make any sense, either. One plausible reason for the impostor, as I see it, was a way to alibi out, in which case, Melissa’s timing would’ve been completely counterproductive. If you’re going to kill a guy and use such a trick, you’d be there with him (in this case, the impostor, posing as him), alive, in front of witnesses, and not leave those witnesses until his death. Melissa wasn’t even in the office when the impostor Lynch came for the appointment. She’s no dope, either. She’d realize trying to con Ryder would be the dumbest trick to try to pull.
The question remained, though, why was the bracelet in the restroom? What connection did Melissa possibly have to Lynch, or the Cross Cutter? I wanted answers quickly, and I hoped to get to the beach house before the FBI.
I was still speeding down the highway when I dialed the beach house again.
“Me again,” I said. “You packed?”
“Yes but—I didn’t do anything, I swear. What’s happening?”
“I wish I knew. Something bad is going on, and it all seems to be knocking at our door. I knew this case was trouble.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m hoping to be there before they arrive. I’ll take you to a buddy of mine, he’ll keep you safe.”
“What if you’re not here in time—shall I go get Kendra?”
“Nah, forget it. You’ll be stuck then, unless you fancy swimming to Hawaii.”
A brief moment of silence and I gave her my plan. I would approach the beach house round back, down a little dirt track few people know about. If I was the first one there, we were good to go. I’d get her the hell out of there and take her twenty miles northeast, to a place that’s as good as off the grid.
If the cavalry were there, then it would be different. I told her to lock herself up in the garage. After that, I’d be playing a risky game. One where I could wind up in prison.
“You believe me, don’t you?” she said.
“I do,” I said, without hesitation, and then I hung up.
I got to the vantage point around ten minutes later. A street two blocks over that had elevation, overlooking the beach house. I could see two cars belonging to the BI, two SUVs belonging to the FBI. It seemed like overkill, but clearly they meant business. They thought Melissa was a killer, or worse.
My mind wandered a second. I still didn’t like the coincidences. The impostor Lynch shows up, then the real one dies. Our card was found at the scene, and then Melissa is implicated. I’m in the federal building for an hour, and suddenly the FBI trace the bracelet to her, which meant something else; Melissa’s fingerprints or DNA were on a system, be it VICAP, IAFIS or something like that. They pegged her to that bracelet because she had a record.
I snapped out of it and drove further down the street till I came to the turn off. After a quarter of a mile I was as safe as I could be without alerting anyone to my presence. I parked the Lexus in a small clearing at the bottom of the hill that leads up to the back of the beach house. I could see the ocean and the pier from here. I could probably spot Ryder if I tried hard enough, but that would have to wait.
I ran in a sort of hunchback way with my head down, taking it slowly up the hill, taking cover behind the bushes. Our garden is quite big, so crossing it would be risky, but no agent had decided to try round back, yet. But they would, so I made a break for it, avoiding the pond and jumping the decorative gravel at the garden edge. I could hear them shouting among themselves, and at Melissa, who was hopefully in the garage.
I ran across our French doors and made haste for the kitchen door. I could hear footsteps round the side. I grabbed at my keys and opened the lock and entered, shutting the door quickly behind me with the handle down, so the latch bolt made as little
The question remained, though, why was the bracelet in the restroom? What connection did Melissa possibly have to Lynch, or the Cross Cutter? I wanted answers quickly, and I hoped to get to the beach house before the FBI.
I was still speeding down the highway when I dialed the beach house again.
“Me again,” I said. “You packed?”
“Yes but—I didn’t do anything, I swear. What’s happening?”
“I wish I knew. Something bad is going on, and it all seems to be knocking at our door. I knew this case was trouble.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m hoping to be there before they arrive. I’ll take you to a buddy of mine, he’ll keep you safe.”
“What if you’re not here in time—shall I go get Kendra?”
“Nah, forget it. You’ll be stuck then, unless you fancy swimming to Hawaii.”
A brief moment of silence and I gave her my plan. I would approach the beach house round back, down a little dirt track few people know about. If I was the first one there, we were good to go. I’d get her the hell out of there and take her twenty miles northeast, to a place that’s as good as off the grid.
If the cavalry were there, then it would be different. I told her to lock herself up in the garage. After that, I’d be playing a risky game. One where I could wind up in prison.
“You believe me, don’t you?” she said.
“I do,” I said, without hesitation, and then I hung up.
I got to the vantage point around ten minutes later. A street two blocks over that had elevation, overlooking the beach house. I could see two cars belonging to the BI, two SUVs belonging to the FBI. It seemed like overkill, but clearly they meant business. They thought Melissa was a killer, or worse.
My mind wandered a second. I still didn’t like the coincidences. The impostor Lynch shows up, then the real one dies. Our card was found at the scene, and then Melissa is implicated. I’m in the federal building for an hour, and suddenly the FBI trace the bracelet to her, which meant something else; Melissa’s fingerprints or DNA were on a system, be it VICAP, IAFIS or something like that. They pegged her to that bracelet because she had a record.
I snapped out of it and drove further down the street till I came to the turn off. After a quarter of a mile I was as safe as I could be without alerting anyone to my presence. I parked the Lexus in a small clearing at the bottom of the hill that leads up to the back of the beach house. I could see the ocean and the pier from here. I could probably spot Ryder if I tried hard enough, but that would have to wait.
I ran in a sort of hunchback way with my head down, taking it slowly up the hill, taking cover behind the bushes. Our garden is quite big, so crossing it would be risky, but no agent had decided to try round back, yet. But they would, so I made a break for it, avoiding the pond and jumping the decorative gravel at the garden edge. I could hear them shouting among themselves, and at Melissa, who was hopefully in the garage.
I ran across our French doors and made haste for the kitchen door. I could hear footsteps round the side. I grabbed at my keys and opened the lock and entered, shutting the door quickly behind me with the handle down, so the latch bolt made as little
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