again.
“Check the bathroom,” he said.
“It’s clear. I even wiped it down.”
“Good.” He grabbed her backpack and hooked it over his shoulder. “Let’s roll.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-ONE
KENDRA CAUGHT JACOB in the lobby of the police station just as he was leaving.
“Hey, there you are,” she said. “I was about to call you.”
“What’s up?”
She looked him over, no doubt noticing he hadn’t been home yet and it was almost ten p.m.
“I went by the ME’s office.” She held up a file. “Managed to get my hands on a copy of the preliminary report from the Scott Rydell case. Want to hear about it?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll walk with you. Where are you parked?”
“Right out front.”
He held the door for her, and they stepped outside into the humid August night. It was dark now, as it had been when he’d come in here this morning. He’d put in a marathon workday, only breaking once for food.
“Anything new on the manhunt?” Kendra asked.
“No.”
“They’ve got every agency in the country looking for him. I’m surprised something hasn’t popped by now.”
Jacob wasn’t surprised. He’d spent the better part of the day building a dossier on David Langham. He’d pulled every string he could think of for information, even tracking down the man’s former CO and some of his Navy buddies. Jacob had interviewed dozens of people and their feedback was the same. Langham was smart, confident, and highly trained. He’d been part of an elite combat unit before getting discharged for reasons no one was willing to talk about. Whatever the reasons, he’d been in the private sector now for almost eight years.
Jacob looked at Kendra as they walked toward his truck. She was in her workout clothes—yet here she was coming to the office at night. She had even less of a personal life than he did.
“So, what’s in the ME’s report?” he asked.
“Everything we expected. Plus some interesting stuff about the murder weapon.”
“What about it?”
“The blade is about one point two inches wide and has a serrated edge.”
“It’s a match,” he said.
“Yup. He keeps using the same weapon. Makes me think he’s attached to it, for some reason, and that’s a mistake.”
Jacob stopped beside his pickup.
“Wouldn’t you agree?” she asked.
“Probably.”
“He’ll make some other mistake, and we’ll bag him up. It’s only a matter of time.”
A pair of scooters buzzed by, probably on their way to the bars on Sixth Street. Jacob watched as they passed Paco’s taco truck and the picnic table where he’d sat with Bailey that first night.
“You think he’s still on the job?” Kendra asked.
“What, you mean hunting for Tabitha Walker?”
“Yeah.”
“Highly unlikely. The operation’s blown, and he knows that. It’s every man for himself now.”
Kendra followed his gaze to the end of the block. “Yeah, I heard the McKinneys are refusing to talk, except through their lawyers.”
“Not surprising.”
She looked at Jacob. “What’s Bailey think?”
“Of what?”
“Of everything. Tabitha’s disappeared. Langham’s on the run. The McKinneys aren’t talking. The FBI is looking really bad here. Not to mention the Marshals. Isn’t she still covering the story for her paper?”
“I don’t know.”
Kendra’s brow furrowed. “Why don’t you know?”
“I haven’t talked to her.”
“Why not?”
He popped the locks on his truck and opened the door. “Because.”
Bailey had called him three times since yesterday afternoon when they’d parted ways at the Austin airport. Jacob hadn’t called her back. He couldn’t talk to her right now. He was still too pissed off.
“Because why?”
“Kendra. Drop it.”
“No. You went all the way to New Orleans with her and put your ass on the line to help her run down a story and—”
“I’ve been working. So has she.” He slid into his truck. “And I really don’t want to talk about this now.”
She sighed heavily. “You’re doing it again.”
“What’s that?” He shoved the key into the ignition.
“Avoiding relationships.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “Jesus. Can we skip this? I don’t need a lecture right now. I need a beer and a shower.”
“All right, all right.” She held up her hands. “I’ll lay off.”
“Thanks.” He started to close the door, but she caught it.
“But let me just say this. Whatever it is, you should work it out with her.”
He tipped his head back against the seat.
“I know you care about her, or you wouldn’t have gone all the way to New Orleans to help her,” Kendra said. “You should give it a chance. I think she’d be good for you.”
He stared at her, incredulous. “I thought you didn’t like her.”
“Of course I like her. She’s tough. And you need someone who isn’t intimidated by you.” She stepped