Close Your Eyes: A Novel Part 34

"What do you think? You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" He hung up.

He took a deep breath, and, in the next moment, he had regained control. He started to dial Kendra when another call came in.

Griffin.

He accessed it quickly. "Any more autopsy results?"

"No, but something a good deal more interesting..."

FIVE MINUTES LATER, HE WAS dialing Kendra's phone.

"I'm not going to be manipulated, Lynch," she said when she picked up the phone.

"And you're not at all interested in anything that happened at the meeting this morning."

"Not unless it's about Olivia."

"I don't know if it's about Olivia. I don't think so. I don't even know if it's about Stedler. It's all vague as h.e.l.l." His words were sharp with impatience. "But you're going to listen to me. I'm feeling a little used by all the powers that be, and I'm getting irritated. I'm going to go after those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds full steam ahead. Sorry your heart's bleeding for your friend, but you can help me move faster, and I'm not going to let you go. I'm going to give you a report every single day. Because you are interested, Kendra. I've watched you, studied you. That brain of yours can't help but start ticking. You want to know. And one day soon, you're going to admit it and come back to work." He quickly told her of the meeting and his talk with Jamerson. "There it is in a nutsh.e.l.l. Now I'm on my way to the FBI office to check reports on that biker who was killed at Ocotillo Wells. The Bureau agents and local police officers showing that McDonald's photo around haven't come up with any other leads yet. The biker's autopsy backs up your own observation. He was taking minocycline. So our guys are also hitting every dermatologist from Irvine down to the Mexican border."

"They waited for the autopsy? I knew that by just looking at him."

"Apparently there were other possible causes for his dental discoloration."

"None as likely."

"I'm not defending them, but they didn't want to allocate the manpower until they were sure."

"Idiots."

"In any case, they're trying to make up for lost time." He paused. "See, you are interested."

She didn't speak for a moment. "Slightly."

"Well, I believe I have a little information that will move that interest up a few notches on the scale. I just took a call from Griffin. Last night, San Diego P.D. located an abandoned car in an alley in National City." He paused. "The license plate was 2-HXW-100."

She inhaled sharply, instantly making the connection. "The number Jimmy kept repeating. Were they able to trace it?"

"It was a Lincoln Navigator off a local impound lot."

"d.a.m.n."

"But there were fingerprints. There had been an attempt to wipe the car clean, but there were prints on a tool in the trunk. They ran them through the FBI database and struck gold."

"Who is he?"

"Frank Rusin. Hit man. He matches the description of the man who attacked you and Jimmy. Griffin has told the police to put out an APB to pick him up. He says it's only logical that he's the same man who attacked Olivia, too."

"You're d.a.m.n right it's logical. So is Griffin putting his agents on it, too? I want him caught. No, I want him in that same horrible, pitiful condition he left Olivia. But catching him will be a start. Find him, Lynch."

"Griffin isn't dragging his heels. He's committed to catching Rusin. I'll be on it, too." He paused. "Care to join us? Aren't you tempted?"

"Yes, I'm tempted. But Olivia needs me. You're trying to draw me over to the dark side. It's not going to work."

"Yes, it will. Because you're the one who will talk yourself into it. I totally discount my own influence. All I'll have to do is get a lead on where I can locate Rusin, and you won't be able to resist. You want to nail that b.a.s.t.a.r.d so bad, you can taste it." He went on before she could reply. "But it's time for me to back away now. I don't want to push too hard. I'll call you when I have something else interesting to tell you."

"Or dangle?"

"'Dangle' is a fine word. Have a good day, Kendra."

He was smiling as he hung up. Not a bad result. Nothing accomplished, but he'd established a beachhead and routine, and a gradual a.s.sault was sometimes more effective.

And any a.s.sault on Kendra was both fascinating and a challenge ...

One Day Later

1:50 P.M.

"Go away," Olivia said distinctly. "You're driving me crazy, Kendra."

Kendra gazed at her indignantly. "What are you saying? I'm not doing anything but sitting here talking to you."

"And watching them bring my food and trying to feed me. And doing a thousand other little piddling services that make me feel as if I'm wrapped in cotton wool. Get out of here."

"I'm not going anywhere. You almost died. You're still going to take a long time to mend. Maybe months."

"And you're going to sit there and keep on trying to coddle me? That's a great way to end a wonderful friends.h.i.+p."

"I'll try to stay out of your way."

"As if you could," Olivia said. "I know you. You'll try to run things, you'll try to run me. You're too much like your mother to just let me handle my own recovery. Look, I have at least one more operation on this kidney before it's going to be okay. I have plastic surgery on my lip and rhinoplasty on this broken nose. I'm going to hate being an invalid and I'll be bad-tempered and say things I don't mean and in general be a total b.i.t.c.h. But I figure that I'll be ent.i.tled, and I have no intention of feeling guilty." She paused. "Since you already have the monopoly on that."

Kendra stiffened. "And that means?"

"You know what it means. I shook you up when I got hurt, and you can't get over it. Well, straighten up and get your brain working instead of your emotions. Why should you be blaming yourself instead of that a.s.shole?"

"Because none of it would have happened if I'd taken your advice and just walked away from Lynch."

"I could have been run over by a truck on the way to meet you. Would that have been your fault, too?" She tapped her chin with her index finger. "Oh, yes, I was coming to see you. Naturally, that would make it entirely your responsibility."

"He hurt you. He hurt you so much that you went into shock and almost didn't come out," she said fiercely. "Do you know how that made me feel?"

"Not as bad as it did me," Olivia said dryly. "But you're making me feel worse." She made a face. "No, that's not true. You're annoying me, but he still gets the prize." Her expression was suddenly tight. "He was ... evil."

"Was he?" Kendra asked. "You've never said a word about him or the attack. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." She shrugged. "But I suppose I should. I was wondering why Lynch or Agent Griffin weren't in here asking me questions."

"I told them to stay away from you." She paused. "There's been a break in the case, but I didn't tell you about it. They may have a lead on the man who attacked you. I figured you could deal with it later."

She smiled. "Protecting me again?"

"Yes, and stop acting as if you wouldn't do the same if it were me."

"Of course, I would." She was silent a moment. "Do you know that in a way I'm glad that I went through this horror."

"Don't even think that. Why?"

"Because it brought back those days when we were growing up, and the dark became our friend. We were so close..."

"We're still close." Her hand grasped Olivia. "We'll always be close. I love you. You're my best friend in the world."

She nodded. "But things are different now. You moved a giant step away from me when you had that operation. It wasn't your fault, and I'm happy for you. I'm trying to keep pace and make a life of my own. Most of the time I have a h.e.l.l of a good time, but sometimes I miss what we had."

"Oh, s.h.i.+t."

She chuckled. "I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. That's what I'm steering you away from. I just had to tell you how I feel. And the reason I'm telling you is that the fringe benefit from this attack is that I realize that we'll always be together. No matter what happens to us, what we have is going to go on." She added simply, "I was lost, and you came after me. And it made me feel as if I'll never be lost again."

Kendra's throat was tight. What was she supposed to say?

Olivia suddenly smiled impishly. "Too bad you couldn't leave it at that instead of spoiling everything by trying to act like Mother Teresa."

"How ungrateful can you be?"

"Grateful? When you were torturing me with those hillbilly songs?"

"By very respected artists." She was managing to smile. "But I'd just as soon not to have to do it again. I think we'll keep you from getting hurt like that in the future." She paused. "Would you tell me what happened? Maybe there's something that would help us catch him. We think we know who he is, but other than that, we've been coming up with zilch."

She shrugged. "I don't remember too much. It happened so quickly."

"You were talking to me on the phone and telling me you were making your world-famous spaghetti sauce. It must have happened in the kitchen. Right?"

She nodded. "I'd just turned on my iPod and was listening to Rihanna while I turned on the oven. I started to unwrap the garlic bread, and I heard him. He was trying to be quiet, but I heard his steps. He was crossing the living room and coming toward the kitchen. He was walking on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, but he was wearing boots. I knew it wasn't you because I'd just talked to you. And why should he be trying to be quiet if he had any business in the condo?"

"You should have run like h.e.l.l."

"I was planning on it. But he was moving fast, and he was right behind me. I grabbed the handle of the skillet and turned to face him. He said, 'Now that's a mistake.' I didn't know what he meant. What was a mistake? Maybe he thought I could see and would be able to recognize him. Maybe he was talking about the skillet in my hand. I didn't have time to worry about it because he was on me, and he was choking me. I swung the skillet and hit him in the head." She moistened her lips. "And that really p.i.s.sed him off."

"I can imagine. Do you want to go on?"

"There's not much more. He just began beating me. I tried to fight back, but he was much stronger. He ... liked what he was doing. He was laughing." She whispered. "He was hurting me. I could feel my ribs breaking. I knew he was going to kill me, but all I wanted was for the pain to stop. I got away once and managed to toss the skillet through the window. But he still didn't stop. It only made him more angry. He threw me down and began kicking me in the side and back." She shook her head. "And that's all I remember."

Kendra leaned forward and gently brushed Olivia's hair away from her face. "That's enough. Just a few more questions. Sound. You said he was wearing boots. Anything else?"

"A leather jacket with zippers. Three or four zippers. I heard them jingle and pull when I was fighting him."

"A leather jacket?" Rusin had worn a suit when he'd attacked Jimmy and her at the studio. That didn't mean a great deal, but she was having trouble picturing the man she had seen in boots and a leather jacket. "I know he only said a few words, but was there anything distinctive about his voice or the way he spoke?"

"I don't think so." She added ruefully, "But I'm not like you. I was scared, and I couldn't pay attention."

"Take a minute. Think. Don't turn away from it because you were afraid."

She smiled wryly. "I'm not turning away. I'm hiding my head under the blankets." She was silent. "Maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"Do you remember Denise Harrell from Miss Woodland's school? She had that stud earring in her tongue that so grossed you out. Even though we couldn't see it, the idea turned you off. He talked a little ... no, a lot like her. The placement of his tongue in his mouth was ... different."

"That's good, Olivia."

"I'm trying."

Olivia's expression was controlled, but Kendra noticed that Olivia's hand was trembling beneath Kendra's. Kendra hated doing this to her.

But she had to get it over with so that Olivia could forget it.

As if that would ever happen.

"He was on top of you. You were touching him, you felt his weight. Was he big? Small?"

She thought about it. "Small, I think. But strong, wiry."

Rusin had been big, muscular.

"Any identifiable scent?"

Olivia shook her head. "Just the usual stuff. Aftershave, soap, sweat."

"You touched his face. How did it feel? A beard? Was it lined or smooth? Young ... or older."

"Smooth. A slight stubble. Not many lines. Twenties, maybe."

"Twenties?"

"Yes, is something wrong?"

"No." Except that Rusin was in his sixties and had the lines to prove it. "They were able to get skin from underneath the four fingers on your right hand. Did you scratch him?"

"Yes, the left side of his neck. But it didn't stop him. Nothing stopped him."