threw open the door, and they ran through the musty lobby. Lynch grabbed her arm and pointed to the elevator, which had an old-style analog indicator above the door.
The elevator was on the third floor.
“Stairs,” Lynch said.
They ran into the stairwell, which smelled even mustier than the lobby. They flew up the stairs to the third floor, where the stairwell opened at the end of a long carpeted hallway. The walls were a dark burgundy color, topped by a gold crown molding that was chipped and peeling.
“Okay,” Lynch whispered. “He could be in any one of these rooms. We’ll hold down the fort until Metcalf gets here. I’ll text him now.”
It seemed like a good idea until she had another thought. “What if Hayes goes out a fire escape? He’s shown himself to be very comfortable doing that.”
“Then what do you propose?”
“I’ll just tell you which room he’s in.” She started down the hallway.
“How?”
Her head moved from right to left and back as she progressed down the long hallway. “Keep your distance. Give me ten feet or so.”
He held his gun in front of him. “I don’t like this.”
“Just be ready. I don’t want him to get away.”
She pressed on quietly down the hallway, continuing her sweep. She stopped at the halfway point.
No. False alarm.
She resumed her journey until she finally found herself at the second-to-last door to the right. She turned back to Lynch and pointed at the door.
Are you sure? he mouthed.
Positive, she mouthed back.
He looked confused, but he motioned for her to step back. He silently tried the doorknob. Locked.
He put his hand out and mouthed, Stay here.
He counted down with his fingers.
Three…
Two…
One!
Lynch kicked in the door and body-rolled into the room before the doorframe’s splinters had even hit the floor.
No sound from the interior of the room.
Kendra instinctively moved toward the broken door. “Lynch!”
Lynch muttered a curse. “Stay where you are, dammit.”
She froze as she heard doors opening and closing then the sound of window blinds.
Lynch cursed again before calling out. “Kendra…All clear.”
She ran into the room. No Hayes. “He got away? How could he have possibly—”
She stopped in her tracks, shocked.
Holy shit.
Because Hayes was there.
He was dead.
Hayes was on the floor of the room, glazed eyes open, with a gunshot wound that pierced his forehead and blew apart the back of his skull.
He was still shoeless with his pant cuffs drenched from sewer sludge.
“What in the hell?” Kendra said, dazed.
“Good question. He fought awful hard to get to a place where he’d just get his head blown off.” Lynch motioned toward the window. “And you were right to be afraid of the fire escape. Looks like that’s how his killer got away.” Lynch holstered his gun. “By the way, how did you know Hayes was in here?”
She moistened her lips. “It was the only room on the floor that smelled like a sewer. Of course, you and I smell the same way so it wasn’t easy. That’s why I asked you to back off.”
He made a face. “Should have figured out that one myself.”
Kendra was still staring dazedly at Hayes’s corpse, where blood was spreading slowly onto the carpeted floor. “Shit. All of this was for nothing. We needed him.”
“That’s probably why he died.” Lynch pulled out his phone. “I’ll call Metcalf. At least his Evidence Response Team is nearby. Maybe we can get some answers.”
Chapter
13
An hour later, most of the floor had been cordoned off as a crime scene and FBI Evidence Response had already dusted and swabbed the room. The medical examiner had also done his preliminary work and was tapping notes into a tablet computer while waiting for the go-ahead to cart away Hayes’s still-warm corpse.
Metcalf turned away from talking to the M.E. to join Kendra and Lynch at the door. The stare he gave Lynch was distinctly cool. “Promise me you didn’t shoot this guy.”
Lynch literally laughed in his face. “Are you serious? You think that I—?”
“I’m not thinking anything,” Metcalf interrupted. “I asked a question. I know how I’d feel if I came face-to-face with any dirtbag who’d hurt Kendra.”
“Then you know I’d get far more pleasure making the rest of his life a living hell,” Lynch said softly. “You’re being very simplistic, Metcalf.”
Kendra stepped forward. “I was there, remember?” she said impatiently. “For goodness’ sake, Lynch didn’t shoot him. And we’re trying to crack this case, not get revenge for anything that happened to me. That’s over and done with. Lynch is a professional, and he wouldn’t let personal