Close Your Eyes: A Novel Part 31

"Or invents things to help him manipulate the situation."

"I'm not above that, but I have a peculiar reluctance to do it in your case."

"Peculiar, indeed. Forget it, Lynch."

"Oh, I won't forget it. But I'll let it go for now. You're angry and defensive and frightened, and I won't-"

"Frightened?"

"You're d.a.m.n right. Maybe if I'd realized how scared you were of the fallout from what you're able to do, I might not have pulled you into this case." He paused. "Nah, I would still have done it. You're too valuable a weapon to ignore. And, if I feel any guilt, I don't let it bother me. You should work on having that same att.i.tude."

"Screw you, Lynch." She hung up.

She drew a deep breath and tried to tamp down the sudden rage that had flared. Why be angry with Lynch? He was in her life only because she permitted it. Now she was going to close herself away from him, and that would be the end of their a.s.sociation.

Or would it? Lynch might not give up so easily if she was as valuable to him as he said. He was so clever that there was no way of knowing how or where he would strike. She had actually begun to antic.i.p.ate how he would handle situations and pull the strings. It was stimulating and exciting working with him.

And annoying and bewildering and a complete tightrope walk on the edge of everything she knew and believed.

All the more reason to back away from him.

He was wrong. She wasn't afraid, she was just wary. Couldn't he see that she wasn't the one who was being hurt?

But she was also being hurt. She couldn't lie to herself and say she was only thinking of others. She didn't want the pain ... or the guilt. She wanted to hide away in the life with the children she loved and could help.

And yet Lynch had managed to give her another guilt trip because she was refusing to work with him.

d.a.m.n him.

Jeff had never succeeded in making her feel this terrible burden about not using her ability. He usually just ended by making her angry. It was only another indication how much more dangerous Lynch was to her.

All the more dangerous because she was drawn to him in ways that were more sensual and powerful than she wanted to admit to herself. He possessed a basic, primitive masculinity that was in sharp contrast to that keen, cynical intelligence. That ability to stir and intrigue might be his most potent weapon.

Avoid him. She had enough to deal with helping Olivia get back to normal. She didn't have a chance in h.e.l.l of Lynch's leaving her alone if he thought he might possibly get what he wanted from her. But he might give her a short respite if he thought it smarter to wait until she was less upset.

And she'd make every minute count until she had to deal with him again.

She walked quickly back down the hall toward the ICU.

FORGET IT, LYNCH THOUGHT, as he downshifted while driving up a steep stretch of Torrence Street. Forget her. She was taking too much of his time and effort. It wasn't as if he wasn't used to working solo. He preferred it in most cases. He rated check-minus in the plays well with others box. That was why he and the FBI had been such a bad fit. He was much more at home working alone on the special tasks he performed for the intelligence community.

So why had he been so upset when Kendra had opted out? It's true, she stimulated him both mentally and physically. Like a good tennis partner who challenged him to elevate his game, Kendra made him want to bring all of his skills to bear. If only to keep himself from being outcla.s.sed by a reluctant amateur.

And face it, that challenge included a strong thread of s.e.xuality that was becoming stronger the longer he was with her. It was all the more t.i.tillating because he knew he had to keep that s.e.xuality burning low, or she would step back. There was no way she would want to become involved with another law-enforcement type. She had been stung too deeply by Stedler.

Besides, he shouldn't dwell on that side of their relationship. Her value was primarily as a partner working through the unusual permutations of this case. Concentrate on that aspect alone.

Yeah, sure.

s.e.x was too d.a.m.n important to him to leave it out of any equation. After his divorce, he had been careful to limit relationships to physical satisfaction. It was safer, and no one would get hurt if he turned his back and walked away.

But he hadn't wanted to walk away from Kendra. He had wanted to go closer, to warm his hands at the flame that flickered, then was gone. What would it take to make that flame flare and burn? The temptation to experiment and find out was almost irresistible. He was tending to forget what was smart and what lessons he'd learned.

Get straight, get back on track. Accept the value Kendra offered him that had nothing to do with s.e.x. When she was willing to offer him anything at all.

He had been tempted to apply more pressure, but any attempt to push her b.u.t.tons would only enrage her and erase any chance of her helping later. No one liked being played, and Kendra was more sensitive to it than anyone he had ever known.

Of course, she was more sensitive to just about everything, and that facet was arousing a variety of emotions in him. He was becoming attuned to that acute emotional vulnerability in Kendra and found himself mirroring that emotion and trying to find a way to protect her from it. It had shocked him that he felt that protectiveness with such savage intensity. It was just as well that he was distancing himself from her for a while.

Go about the investigation, do what you always do before you brought her onto the case.

Forget about Kendra Michaels.

TEN MINUTES LATER, LYNCH stood in the dark side yard of a house where the "cleaner," John Bergen, had spent the previous night. Lynch had taken a calculated risk in not confronting Bergen sooner, but as long as the tracking device was still working on the car, he knew he could keep tabs on him. A mapping app on Lynch's phone told him that Bergen was on his way back to the house, which was empty except for a sleeping bag in one of the back bedrooms.

Lynch crouched low as Bergen's car approached, and the headlight beams crossed the front of the house. Bergen killed the engine, climbed out of the car, and moved across the overgrown front yard.

Lynch silently moved from behind him and grabbed his arm. "h.e.l.lo, Bergen."

Bergen emitted a sound that was half gasp, half scream. He clutched his chest. "Jeez, you scared the h.e.l.l out of me. What's the matter with you?"

"You lied to me, that's what's the matter. And now I need some answers."

Bergen tried to wrench free, but Lynch's grip was too strong. "I already told you, buddy. I have no idea what-"

"You're lying again." Lynch raised a small dictation device and played him a few seconds of the phone call he and Kendra had heard and recorded after their first meeting with him "You're a d.a.m.ned good liar, Bergen, but not good enough to explain your way out of this."

Bergen relaxed his tensed arm, admitting defeat. "Okay, fine. s.h.i.t. But I'm not talking until I get my lawyer."

"You don't understand. You're not under arrest. No one even knows I'm here. You're going to tell me what I need to know, then I'll decide what to do with you. Lawyers will have nothing to do with it."

Bergen wrinkled his brow. "What kind of cop are you?"

"I'm one who doesn't give a d.a.m.n about the rules," he said softly. "Someone tried to kill the young woman who was with me when I came to see you, and I'm a little annoyed about it. And I'm even more annoyed that he put another innocent young woman in the hospital. I believe you can help me find who did it."

Bergen chuckled. "I think you're going to be disappointed."

Lynch wrenched the man's arm behind his back and pushed him toward the street. "We'll see, won't we?"

Bergen half slid, half stumbled across the yard. "Wait a minute. I need to get something out of my car."

"The handgun under your front seat?"

Bergen looked over his shoulder at him. "How did you know?"

"One, we're in Southern California. Two, if I had a client list like yours, I'd sure as h.e.l.l keep some protection in my car."

Bergen shrugged. "Makes sense."

"Not precisely difficult to guess. My a.s.sociate would do a lot better than me if she were here. She's very good at that sort of thing." He smiled. "But I'm not too b.u.mmed about it. I have my own way of getting information that's completely out of her realm."

Lynch cuffed Bergen's hands behind him and shoved him into the pa.s.senger seat of his Ferrari. A moment later, he was speeding down the road.

"Where are we going?" Bergen asked.

"Away from where anyone would think to look for you. I don't think you were hiding from me at that house, were you?"

Bergen didn't reply.

"All those houses and condos you own, and you hole up in a place that doesn't even belong to you. I know because I checked. Does it belong to a girlfriend? A family member?"

"I used to own it, but not anymore. n.o.body has actually lived there since I sold it. I guess the new owner is just waiting for the market to improve before he sells. Anyway, I figured it was someplace I could crash without anybody's finding me." He shot him a sour glance. "Anybody, that is, except you."

"If I found you, somebody else could, too."

"Maybe, maybe not. I'm just not taking any chances."

"Chances?"

"You seem like a smart guy. I'm sure you have it figured out."

"Your employer. You told him that we're onto you, and now you're afraid he might make you disappear to keep you from talking."

"Very good. You get a gold star. The kind of people who hire me wouldn't think twice about snuffing me out. Kind of goes with the territory, you know?"

"You didn't have to tell him at all. He would have no idea we found out about you."

Bergen shrugged. "Professional courtesy. He needed to be prepared to cover his a.s.s, just as I needed to cover mine. Besides, he paid well and could use me again. But you heard that call between us. He blames me for this. Some bulls.h.i.t about that woman smelling my work."

"That's exactly how it went down, Bergen. It's entirely your fault that we found you. And I really don't mind if everyone knows it."

"Ah, s.h.i.t." With his hands still cuffed behind him, Bergen slumped forward in his seat. "So where are you taking me?"

"Ever been to Sunset Cliffs?"

"Yeah."

"Beautiful spot, isn't it? You know, I once went to three weddings in one year there. At one of them, the groom was afraid of heights. He kind of freaked out."

"Yeah, my daughter got hitched up there." He moistened his lips. "It's a little windy. And it will be pitch-black up there."

"Really? I guess I'll see for myself. We'll be there in a few minutes."

A glaze of perspiration now covered Bergen's face. "Come on, man. This isn't necessary."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I've already had enough adventure in my life. Let's work this out."

"You're the one who will have to do the working. You can start by telling me who hired you to clean the mess in Jeff Stedler's apartment."

"I don't know."

Lynch shook his head. "Okay, we're not off to a good start here."

"I'm telling the truth."

Lynch shot him a skeptical glance. "You work for people with absolutely no idea who they are?"

"Sometimes. My regulars were always my bread and b.u.t.ter, but there are jobs from people I've never met and will never meet. And you can understand if many of them are less than forthcoming with their personal information. To tell the truth, I'd rather not know who they are. It's more comfortable that way."

"I can almost believe that. Okay, tell me who you saw at Stedler's apartment that night."

"n.o.body."

"Ah, Sunset Cliffs State Park, just ahead." Lynch pointed to the freeway sign. "Just another couple minutes."

"I'm telling you there was n.o.body. I got a call at one in the morning telling me that there was a mess to be cleaned up in this apartment dining room. And that my work needed to be flawless. No one could ever know that anything funny had happened there even if somebody went there looking for it."

"The guy didn't give you a name?"

"No, but a caller ID number came up on my phone. I figured the guy was using a throwaway. He said I could call it if I needed to get in touch."

Lynch drove to the end of I-8 and sped up Sunset Cliffs Boulevard to Ladera Street. He did not speak, letting Bergen have a chance to stew as they drew closer to the sound of the ocean crashing on the rocks. Lynch parked on the street and killed the engine.

"What do you know?" he murmured. "Pitch-black, just as you said." The car rocked from the strong ocean breezes. "Windy, too. You were right on the money."

Bergen said nothing.

Lynch climbed out of his car and walked around it and pulled Bergen from the pa.s.senger-side door. He steered him up the road alongside a white wooden fence until they reached an opening. Lynch guided him onto the cliff's damp and slippery upper plateau, which was even darker than the roadway behind them.

"Can't see a d.a.m.ned thing," Bergen said, his voice cracking. "If you're not careful, you're gonna walk us both right over the edge."

Lynch stopped and gripped the handcuff links behind Bergen's back. "Stop here for now. Invigorating, isn't it?"

"Go to h.e.l.l."

"Is that any way to talk? I'm expanding your horizons. But now I need you to do the same for me." He added softly. "Give me something I can use."

"I'm telling you, I don't know who hired me."

"What happened to Jeff Stedler?"

"Who?"