Hindsight (Kendra Michaels #7) - Iris Johansen Page 0,83

way who can get us inside. He’s a wizard at this stuff. Even you couldn’t get us inside as fast as he can. Just wait and you’ll see that—”

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.

All four doors unlocked. Lynch pulled the passenger side handle and opened the door. “You were saying?”

“Holy shit,” Metcalf said. “How in the hell did you do that?”

Lynch raised his phone, which had a black fob attached to its underside. “A custom software app coupled with an outboard RF transmitter.”

“You should see what he can do with a Tesla,” Kendra murmured.

Metcalf still looked stunned. “I’m not sure I want to know. Plausible deniability and all that.”

“Smart man,” Lynch said. “Keep that attitude and you’ll have a long and successful career in the Bureau.”

“I think that was a dig.” Metcalf turned to Kendra. “Was that a dig?”

Kendra nodded. “That was a dig.”

Lynch leaned into the car. “Looks like fingerprints on this wheel, the touch screen, and maybe the glove compartment.”

Metcalf motioned to the Evidence Response techs. “You’ve given us what we needed. Now please get out of there and let my guys get their samples.” He added with pointed formality, “And thank you for your cooperation.”

Lynch lifted his hands and backed out of the car. “Anytime.”

As the techs went to work lifting prints and swabbing for DNA, Kendra walked around the car. “That was a bit chilly,” she told Lynch as he followed her. “But you couldn’t expect him to let you take over. You have a tendency to be a trifle flamboyant. It’s probably difficult for Metcalf to maintain a businesslike persona with his fellow agents when you’re strutting around pulling tricks out of your hat.”

“I don’t strut. That would be ridiculous.” He thought about it. “Though I’m guilty of pulling an occasional stunningly clever trick to dazzle the mind. But that’s only because I’m a gadget freak and so is every agent on Metcalf’s team. And I backed off when Metcalf got his feathers ruffled, didn’t I? I realize I can be a hard act to follow.”

She made a rude sound.

“I take it that you’re trying to burst my bubble so I’ll change the subject.” He tilted his head, watching her examine the car. “Anything?”

She pointed to the left-rear quarter panel. “Traces of mud just above the tires, but the color and consistency aren’t unlike what you’d find almost anywhere in Southern California. Not much help there.”

“Too bad.”

She looked through the side windows. “The driver’s seat is adjusted all the way back and the steering wheel is angled upward, indicating a tall man, well over six feet. That’s in line with Hayes’s height. The passenger seat probably sat someone a few inches shorter.”

“Like the man who was with Hayes when you saw him? You described him as being shorter.”

“Yes.” She looked at the driver’s side door. “A few light scratches here. They’re fairly high up, just under the door handle. Most likely it was dinged by another vehicle parked right next to it. Always the same vehicle, since each scratch hits at exactly the same height. A tall vehicle, maybe a jeep or SUV. We should check his parking space at the apartment complex and see who he might have been meeting.”

“The FBI team may already have photos of that. I’ll ask.”

Kendra suddenly leaned over and studied the side-view mirror. “Tell Metcalf that Hayes is wearing black tennis shoes, jeans, a gray hoodie, and aviator sunglasses.”

Lynch looked at her curiously. “You mean, when you saw him the other night?”

“No.” She snapped, “Right now.”

Lynch stared at her. “The car is telling you that?”

She nodded. “Stop asking questions. Please go tell Metcalf, dammit.”

“Not before you tell me how in the hell—?”

“I’m looking at him in this side mirror, that’s how.” Her voice was shaking. “He’s watching us from behind that food truck half a block back. He just walked up and stopped short when he saw us. I don’t want to tip our hand. Tell Metcalf to have his guys take positions.”

Lynch casually nodded. “Got it.” He started strolling in Metcalf’s direction.

Kendra circled around the front of the car, trying not to reveal that she had Hayes in her sights. The temptation was almost overpowering to glance in his direction. Why the hell was he taking this risk? Why didn’t he run? Maybe Lynch was right about him not being very smart. Or maybe there was something in this car that he didn’t want to be found. Either way, all she cared about was keeping him here until they could get their hands

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