hours focused on getting him what he needed. He made it clear that this meant making it look like you’ve been working on an FBI case during the past week…a project you’ll continue for the foreseeable future. Now, what would make you want to do that?” He chuckled. “I guarantee you’ve never been this carefully researched before.” He started the car. “It became almost a game to my agents.”
“Which I regard as the ultimate violation of my privacy.”
“It was done very respectfully. You have an awesome reputation.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Well, you’re not always polite, but they do respect you. And your friend Agent Metcalf likes and respects you.” He darted a glance at her face. “And he’s known you long enough that he’s able to see things other agents might ignore. He knew what would push your buttons. Yes, I think Metcalf might have won the grand prize.”
“I like Metcalf. But I have no intention of joining your happy little group. I’ll go back to teaching my music students until I find a way to get back to Kabul. And there’s no way you can convince me to do anything. Give it up, Griffin.”
“I haven’t begun to fight yet,” he murmured. “Let’s play our own game, Kendra. You want me to take you to your condo? No problem. There’s a manila folder on the floor at your feet. Pick it up and open it. It’s the case that Metcalf thought might tip you over the edge. Read it. Study it. Then tell me whether you want me to drive you home. Or whether you want me to take you to the regional office so that you can talk to Metcalf.”
Kendra hesitated, then slowly picked up the folder. It was probably a mistake. She should probably just refuse to open it and ask to be taken home. Griffin was brilliant and had no compunction about manipulating people to suit himself. If he thought he had something that might intrigue her, then he probably did.
But she was curious, dammit. She wanted to know why Metcalf had thought this case would interest her.
She slowly opened the folder.
She inhaled sharply as she looked down at the photo on the first page.
“Kendra?” Griffin said softly.
She couldn’t take her gaze from that photo.
Griffin tilted his head, his eyes narrowed on her face. “Your condo or the regional office?”
The bastard knew he had her.
“Neither.”
“You have someplace else in mind?”
She held up the photo. “Take me here.”
“It’s late. It’s already getting dark.”
“I don’t care.”
“Your time will be better spent at the office, getting brought up to speed. Tomorrow we can go out there, and—”
“Now.” Kendra flipped the pages of the file. “Or you can drop me off at my condo and I’ll drive myself. But one way or another, I’m going there tonight.”
Griffin sighed. “Okay. Fine. I’ll have Metcalf meet us there.”
“That’ll work,” she said jerkily, her eyes already devouring the text. “I’ll read the report on the way.”
Chapter
2
Woodward Academy for the Physically Disabled
Oceanside, California
Kendra looked up as Griffin negotiated the long driveway that rose to the Woodward Academy’s main entrance. Darkness had already fallen, but even at night the main building was astonishing. Situated on the top of a tall hill thirty-eight miles north of San Diego, the three-story structure looked like it belonged on a Northeastern Ivy League campus instead of the beach town where it had existed for over seventy years. The building had been constructed as the fourth home for one of California’s wealthiest oil families—the Woodwards, who had lived here in splendor before finally deeding the mansion and grounds to create Woodward Academy in the late 1940s. The extensive grounds upon which it was built were equally impressive. Rolling hills, meadows, and cliffs towered over the crashing Pacific Ocean, and the many outbuildings and lovely chapel in the garden were also magnificent. The school was world-renowned for its work with the physically challenged, and many of its alumni went on to great success in a variety of fields.
“How long were you here?” Griffin asked.
“I left after the eighth grade. I could have stayed through twelfth, but I wanted to go to a regular public high school.”
“Did you regret leaving when you did?”
She shook her head. “Never. I was ready. But I had some good times here. It felt like home to me. The teachers are the best anywhere.”
“So I’ve heard. I once thought this was just a school for the blind, but it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Much more. It’s for the hearing impaired, kids