call them on the way there. But after what that asshole did to you, I was really looking forward to a little one-on-one time with him before I had to turn him over.”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Kendra stood in a smoothie store near the intersection of 26th and Broadway, staring at a three-story apartment building where, by all indications, a killer lived.
Lynch hunched over the intercom pad at the building’s front doorway and then turned and ran across the street. The next moment he was entering the store to join her.
“Well?” she asked.
“There’s a D. Lambert on the building directory in apartment three twenty-nine, just as his gym membership shows us. He’s obviously secure in this new identity of his.” Lynch glanced around the store and then down the street. “I thought the FBI would be here by now.”
Kendra raised her phone. “I just got a text from Metcalf. They’re four minutes out.”
“What’s their play?”
“We’re meeting them around the corner, in the parking lot of a strip mall. A tactical team is on the way.”
“We don’t even know if he’s home.” Lynch shook his head. “I’m not entirely comfortable with this. Sometimes a direct, smaller-scale approach is best.”
“You just want to bypass Metcalf and do your own thing. Take it up with the FBI. Ready?”
“Sure.”
Kendra and Lynch walked quickly to the next block, where they turned and immediately saw a sad mini-mall that was mostly vacant. The only busy tenants seemed to be a nail salon and a karate studio. Within two minutes, three unmarked vans and a pair of cars squealed into the lot.
Metcalf climbed out of one of the cars and nodded toward Lynch. “Griffin’s already taking bets on whether you would really wait for us before storming into the place yourself.”
Kendra nodded. “It almost happened. How did you bet, Metcalf?”
“I didn’t. I know better than to wager my hard-earned government salary on anything as unpredictable as the two of you.”
“Smart man,” Lynch said. He surveyed the two vans, which featured large magnetic signs for a local cable TV company. “Are these surveillance-equipped?”
“Yes. And there’s another one already in front of the building. A couple of our guys dressed as exterminators are covering the exits.”
“Good. How about exterior windows?” Kendra said.
“We’re on it. The county sent us scans of the building plans on our way over, and we know exactly which windows are his. Top floor, fourth window from the left. The shades are closed right now.”
“And your guys have the perp’s photo?” Kendra said.
“Plus the sketch you provided of the other guy,” Metcalf said. “If either of them is in there, he’s not getting out.”
Kendra nodded. As usual, Metcalf seemed to have all the bases covered. But she could tell Lynch was still uneasy, and it was making her uneasy.
Metcalf tapped his almost-invisible earpiece, which Kendra knew was hooked up to his cell phone via a Bluetooth connection. He cocked his head, then made a hand signal to the driver of one of the vans in the parking lot. The vehicle sped away.
He returned his focus to Kendra and Lynch. “That team will be covering the garage and rear entrance. We’ll head out two minutes later, park on the street, then go in through the front door.”
“Got a key?” Lynch said. “Surely you’re not hoping for him to buzz you in.”
“No key, but we have permission from the building owner to jimmy the front-door lock.”
“Good,” Lynch said. “Who’s handling the door?”
“Special Agent Roberts.”
“He’s good, but I’m faster,” Lynch said. He reached into his jacket’s inside breast pocket and produced a thin wallet of lockpicks. “I’ll take care of the door.”
“Roberts has already started prepping.” Metcalf pointed to a man inside the van’s open side door whose name tag read SPECIAL AGENT DON ROBERTS.
“That may be so, but I’ll do it much faster,” Lynch said impatiently. “Ask Roberts, he’ll tell you.”
Roberts, who had obviously heard the exchange, looked at them and shrugged.
“Whatever,” Metcalf said. “I don’t have to ask him. I’ve seen your work. Okay, you’re on the door.” He turned toward Kendra. “You take the front passenger seat. If we bring him out, I need you to make an immediate positive ID.”
“It will be more immediate if I’m inside with your team.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
She made a face. “I thought I’d try.”
“Forget it.” Metcalf raised his index finger and made a twirling motion to his team. “We roll in sixty seconds. Be ready!”
* * *
“This is Charlie, your trainer from the gym, Mr. Lambert. You