Sight Unseen (27 page)

“And what about his guests last night?”

She shrugged. “There were two drinking glasses in the sink, and they each had slightly different shades of lipstick on their rims. The glass top of the coffee table showed fresh rings that matched the size and contours of those two drinking glasses, but no others I could see. Clearly, the women sat on the couch, and Warren sat in the chair facing the two of them.”

Lynch smiled. “Clearly.”

“The couch reeked of weed, enough that I figured they were there drinking and smoking for a couple hours.”

“Even I could smell that. But how do you know it was last night and not today?”

“Because the stench wasn’t on Warren. Not on his clothes or hair, meaning he had changed and showered between then and now. That tipped the odds in favor of last night. Also, the lipstick on the drinking-glass rims was dry and cracking. It probably wouldn’t look that way after only a couple of hours.”

“Dazzling as usual.”

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“No, I wouldn’t presume. I’ve always known exactly what your capabilities are. However, you still manage to occasionally surprise me. But all this still doesn’t place him at or away from the murder scenes.”

“You’re right, but it did allow me to exert pressure and get more from him than we might have otherwise. All I know for sure is that he’s not the man I saw at Corrine Harvey’s house. That still doesn’t eliminate him as having played a part. Griffin should have his people flash Warren’s picture around at the club.”

“I’ll make sure he does.”

Lynch’s phone vibrated, and a second later the text chime sounded on Kendra’s. She glanced at her screen.

CONTACT GRIFFIN ASAP.

She showed it to Lynch. “You too?”

Lynch showed her his phone with the identical message. He punched Griffin’s number, and it was answered immediately. “Lynch, is Kendra there?”

“Yes, right next to me. I’m on speaker.”

“Good. Kendra, we just hit the jackpot on those numbers you picked up from the envelope in Colby’s cell.”

“It was a usage account?”

“Yes. It was a five-hundred-minute talk time refill from Lightwire Communication, a regional mobile carrier that sells disposable mobile phones and pay-as-you-go account cards. You usually see them at discount stores, price clubs, and gas stations. The card was activated in a mobile phone about three weeks ago.”

“We need to subpoena those records,” Lynch said. “I have a contact in the Justice Department who can help push that through in a hurry. If you give me the—”

“It’s already done, Lynch.” Griffin sounded annoyed. “I don’t need your contacts. Believe it or not, my position comes with a fair amount of influence.”

“Of course. Just trying to help.”

“Anyway, within the hour, we should have information on everyone who was called by this phone.”

Kendra’s hand tightened on the phone as excitement gripped her. “And there’s a good chance one of them is Myatt.”

“That’s the way we see it,” Griffin said. “We’ll immediately pull photographs on them, and we’ll send agents out to round up as many as we can. You two should probably be here for this.”

“Do you think we’d miss it?” Lynch took Kendra’s elbow and nudged her toward the car. “We’re on our way.”

*   *   *

THE MOMENT KENDRA STEPPED
off the FBI office elevator and entered the second floor “war room,” she immediately sensed a different energy than on her other visits. There were more agents and support staff, now numbering approximately thirty, and they moved with greater purpose and barely contained excitement. They spoke louder and more quickly, and even the clicking of computer keyboards seemed to be supercharged.

“Can you feel it?” Lynch squeezed her arm. “It’s called optimism. You did this.”

“I just hope it pays off.”

Across the room, Griffin motioned for them to join him. Reade and a few other agents were at the long tables at the front of the room.

“The reports came in from the phone-service carrier,” Griffin said. “Every call originated from the tower that covers the prison.”

Kendra looked over his shoulder at one of the report copies. “What about the call recipients?”

“He called nine different numbers. We already have six identified. Three are here in Southern California, two in New York, one in Chicago. Most appear to be journalists. We’ll try bringing them in for questioning and see what they discussed. I’ve already alerted offices in NYC and Chicago.”

“What about the other three numbers?”

Reade waved a printout. “As far as we can tell, they’re throwaway phones with no names registered to them. Two of them are registered with the same mobile network as the prison phone, and our warrant was broad enough that the company also gave us information on those. The only time those two phones were ever used was to receive calls from the prison. We’re still tracking down the carrier for the third throwaway phone.”

Lynch nodded. “That’s
it.
One or all three of those has to be Myatt’s.”

Kendra was quickly studying the report that Griffin was still holding. “Where were those two phones? Does the report tell you that?”

“Yes,” Reade said. “Both here in San Diego County. One pinged a tower north of the city, another one due east.”

Kendra nodded. “What about the timing of the calls? Do they line up with the homicides?”

Reade shook her head. “I was just working that out when you came in, but it doesn’t look like it. The calls almost always came a day or two later.”

“Assuming that the local-call recipients don’t lawyer up or otherwise refuse to come in, we’ll conduct their questioning in the interview rooms upstairs,” Griffin said. “The two of you will be able to observe and send in questions, if you have any.”

“Good,” Lynch said. “You can bet there will be questions.”

“Welcome back, Kendra.” Metcalf had emerged from a crowd of agents with a small stack of color printouts. He smiled and gestured toward the busy war room behind him. “Look at all the overtime your observations are costing the U.S. taxpayer. I hope you’re happy with yourself.”

“I’ll be happy when we catch this guy.”

“Speaking of which…” Metcalf spread the photo printouts on the table. “Here are photos of the six people we’ve identified as having received calls from Colby’s prison phone. Five men and one woman. Are any of the men a match for the guy you saw at Corrine Harvey’s house the other night?” He watched as she grabbed the printouts and scanned them at lightning speed. “Take your time and—”

“No.” Disappointment sharpened her voice. “It’s none of them.”

“Okay, I’m glad you took your time.”

She shrugged. “No sense in wasting your time or mine. These aren’t him.” She turned to Griffin. “I was hoping … but evidently it’s not going to be that easy. But we’ll get there. And I’m very interested in seeing their interviews. When do we start?”

*   *   *

MUCH OF THE INITIAL
enthusiasm—and staffing level—had evaporated by the time the last local interview was completed at 10:16
P.M.
All of the local-call recipients were indeed journalists of some sort, with whom Colby had shared disgusting details of his crimes that he presumably didn’t want recorded by the prison on their internal phone system. Kendra joined the other agents in listening to the interviews conducted in Chicago and New York. Two of those were also journalists, and the third was a woman in Manhattan who had actually pitched Colby on the idea of a Broadway stage musical based on his life and crimes. Kendra sat in horrified amazement as they listened to excerpts of several songs the woman had written for the endeavor.

Griffin nodded to the assistant, who cut the connection with the New York FBI office.

“My God,” Metcalf said. “We really have to find a reason to arrest that woman. Agreed?”

Kendra nodded, sick. “Absolutely terrifying.”

“Obviously, we’ll check out all of them,” Griffin said. “But right now our focus should move to those disposable phones.”

Reade looked down at her printout. “Assuming at least one of these belongs to Myatt, he may have already tossed it and moved on to another one.”

“It’s possible,” Griffin said. “And if it hasn’t happened yet, it could happen at any time. We need to work fast.”

Lynch leaned forward. “A coordinated ping?”

Griffin nodded. “Tomorrow morning. 10:30
A.M.
”

“Good idea.”

Kendra frowned as she looked first at Lynch, then at Griffin. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Lynch turned toward her. “A coordinated ping. One way or another, we’re going to force those phones to ping their local towers. Sometimes, the wireless carrier can do it with a remote command, but these burner phones are often so simple that we may have to do it the old-fashioned way: picking up the phone and calling them. If the phones have power, we can narrow them down to a limited area.”

“I’ll have response teams standing by,” Griffin said. “Once we get a fix on the signal, they’ll swarm over the area and put up roadblocks, go door-to-door and do whatever we need to try and find whoever’s using that phone.”

“Can you really narrow down the area that much?” Kendra asked.

“It depends,” Griffin said. “But if it’s hitting two or even three towers, we can get very close. If Myatt is using one of those phones to stay in touch with Colby, we’ll find him. If he’s discarded it, we may still have a place of contact to start searching.”

“Don’t say that.” Kendra got to her feet. “I’m going to believe that we’ll find him. We’re coming so near to getting him.” She could feel a flush heat her cheeks as she stared fiercely at the agents at the table. “Your coordinated ping is going to pay dividends. I know it.” She turned toward the door. “Come on, Lynch. Let’s get out of here. We can’t do anything until tomorrow, and Griffin is beginning to depress me.”

“Heaven forbid,” he murmured as he followed her from the room. “And this case is so bright and cheery.”

*   *   *

“WE’RE CLOSE,” KENDRA SAID
as she preceded Lynch into the living room. “For the first time, I feel as if I’m not up against a blank wall. We’re getting close to that bastard, Lynch. I feel it.”

“There’s hope, at least.” Lynch shut the door. “But I’m surprised you’re so optimistic. You’re usually so pragmatic.”

“Pragmatic is boring. I want to be giddy. I want to believe that everything will come up roses. I want to catch Myatt and put him away for the rest of his life. I want Olivia and Mom to be able to come home.” She came forward to stare up at the giant photo of Ashley. “I bet you understand, Ashley. You look like a woman who looks on the bright side. Of course, it could be that bikini you’re wearing. But you need to talk to Lynch about his attitude.”

“I usually keep her too busy to discuss my character flaws. Of course, I don’t have that many.” He went to the mahogany bar against the wall. “Would you like a drink?”

She nodded. “Red wine.”

“Right.” A few minutes later, he crossed the room and handed her the glass. “Enjoy.”

“I will.” She sipped the wine. “It’s excellent. I believe I’m beginning to appreciate your good taste.”

“Don’t. I’m only a peasant who likes his beer and hard liquor. So I have an expert keep an eye out for good vintages and send them to me.” He glanced down at his glass of beer. “For the pleasure of my guests.”

“Ashley?”

“She likes vodka on the rocks.” He looked up at the photo. “Why do you keep talking about her?”

“She’s hard to ignore.” She lifted her glass in a toast to the woman in the poster. “To Ashley.”

His gaze never left Kendra’s face. “To Kendra. I like you giddy. I just wish it was for some reason other than Myatt.”

“Take what you get.” She took another sip of wine. “And you probably only want me giddy because you think I’ll be easier to manipulate. You have that—”

Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket.

She stiffened. “Griffin.”

“So much for giddy,” he murmured. “Crashing down to earth.”

“Maybe he’s found out something more about—” She punched the access button and turned up volume. “Griffin? What’s happening?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said hesitantly. “Believe me, I’m not insensitive to what you went through at the prison. You may think that I’ve been—”

“Stop stuttering.” She tensed. She didn’t like this. “Just tell me why you’re calling.”

“I just received a call from Warden Salazar at San Quentin. He had a request and decided to go through me.” He paused. “Colby wants to talk to you one more time before the execution.”

“No!”

“I told Salazar that would be your answer. He said it was his duty to make the request from a condemned prisoner. Colby dies tomorrow night, you know.”

“I could hardly forget.”

“Salazar said he refuses to see any family members but he’s been spending a lot of time with the chaplain during the last few days. A couple times he’s even requested to be taken to the chapel for prayer.”

“What?”

“Well, you know the old saying about there not being any atheists in a foxhole. Colby may be running scared.”

“Or he may be playing games.”

“Possibly.” He hesitated. “But what if he’s had a true change of heart? This might be an opportunity.”

“Or it might be a chance for him to rip me to pieces one last time.”

“That could be true.” He lowered his voice. “But do you want to refuse, then later wonder if you’d done the right thing? There’s a lot in the balance.”

“Leave her alone, Griffin,” Lynch said roughly. “You saw what he did to her before.”

“Hello, Lynch,” Griffin said. “It’s her choice, after all. Stay out of it. Kendra?”

“I’m not going to fly up there and let him—”

“That wouldn’t be necessary,” Griffin said. “Salazar has arranged a Skype with your computer. Colby is waiting for the connection. Just a few minutes of conversation, then you can hang up. You’ll be in total control.”

“No one is ever in total control with Colby. He only waits until you turn your back, and he springs.” She was starting to shake at the thought. She made an effort at control. “He wants to see if he can make me afraid.” Oh God, and she
was
afraid. “It’s all a big con game.”