Hindsight (Kendra Michaels #7) - Iris Johansen Page 0,73

close to killing her. If luck and Jessie hadn’t gone her way, she would be dead, and he would have been able to go about his life with little or no threat of reprisal. But that was no reason for her to be this shaken, she told herself. Maybe it was because she could see that this picture was taken right where she was standing right now.

In a place where he could appear at any moment.

Maybe he was even here now.

Detach. Concentrate.

Kendra leaned closer to the photo. “His hair’s a little longer now, but that’s definitely him.” She smiled. “Wow. Check out his T-shirt.”

Lynch squinted at it. “Does that say what I think it does?”

“Absolutely.”

The red shirt was adorned with a colorful logo for THE PUB—ISLAND OF MALTA.

“Malta,” Lynch said. “The site of his supposed death. Either he’s not very bright or he likes living on the edge.” He looked at the last check-in date. “He was here four days ago, right?”

The woman swiveled the screen back around and looked at the member record. “Yes. Before that, he was here almost every weeknight.”

Lynch patted Kendra’s arm. “I don’t blame him. After you and Jessie worked him over, it appears he hasn’t been in the mood for lifting weights.”

“Did he give a home address?” Kendra asked.

The receptionist glanced around. “I’ll probably need a manager’s permission for that.”

“Come now,” Lynch said. “If you really need manager approval for this sort of thing, you shouldn’t have given us the information you already have.” He leaned close to her and whispered, “I’d hate to see you get in trouble.”

She half smiled. “And I’d hate to feel blackmailed by you.”

“Blackmailed?” He glanced at her name tag. “Such an ugly word, Lara.”

“Isn’t it?”

“And not at all fitting this situation.”

“Okay. Extortion?”

“Even uglier,” he said softly. “And still not true.”

“You threatened to get me in trouble with my boss.”

“Not at all. I felt it was my duty to warn you. A lovely woman always arouses protectiveness in me. I was only reminding you of the precarious position in which you’d placed yourself.”

“By helping you.”

“For which we are very grateful.”

“Funny way of showing it.” The young woman flipped back her long hair.

Kendra resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. The receptionist was clearly enjoying Lynch’s flirtatious banter. Why not? It was a game in which Lynch had expert credentials. Did she know she was being played?

Probably. But she didn’t seem to mind.

The Lynch Effect at work.

“I’d appreciate it if you could help us just a little bit more,” Lynch said.

“By further compromising a member’s private information?”

Lynch leaned closer. “Would it help soothe your guilt to know he’s a very, very bad man?”

“Parking tickets?”

“Worse.”

“Bank robbery?”

“Definitely worse. Your manager doesn’t want this kind of member. You’ll be saving him from himself.”

“You’d be surprised. As long as the dues are paid…”

“Trust me.”

“Well…” The receptionist punched a letter on her keyboard and once again swiveled the screen around to him.

It was a member information page, with name, address, phone number, and even personal fitness goals. Kendra raised her phone and snapped a photo of the screen.

“Happy now?” the receptionist whispered to Lynch with a smile.

“Extremely,” Lynch replied. “Thank you.” He gave her his card. “If he happens to come in while you’re working, do you think you could make a discreet call?”

She put the card on the desk in front of her. “I’m very discreet.”

“Very good. Thank you, Lara.”

Kendra and Lynch walked out the front doors and didn’t speak until they were on the Seventh Street sidewalk.

“Wow.” Kendra smiled. “I think you enjoyed that a little too much.”

“Enjoyed what?”

“You know what. That intense flirting was getting so hot, I felt like fanning myself. And she really enjoyed it.”

“Nonsense. She probably gets hit on ten times a day.”

“But usually not by Adam Lynch. She’s going to call you, all right. I’d be surprised if she even waits until we get back to the car.”

“I think you overestimate my—” Lynch’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He looked at the screen. “Oh.”

“What?”

“A text from Lara, the receptionist. She says she enjoyed meeting us both.”

“Really?” Kendra said skeptically.

“Not really. Just me.”

Kendra laughed. “Exactly what I thought. Well, she’ll definitely be looking for him now.”

“If Hayes gave them a real address, we may not need her. It’s on Twenty-Sixth Street?”

Kendra raised her phone and looked at the information page she’d captured. “Yes. Looks like it’s near Broadway. Golden Hill.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

“Wait. We need to loop Griffin and Metcalf in, you know.”

“Must we?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “Oh, all right. We can

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