Double Blind--A Novel

by Iris Johansen

She pushed herself away from the wall and stumbled toward the elevator. She couldn’t remember taking the elevator to the lobby. But then she was out in the parking lot and heading for her car.

  Jessie looked up from her phone as Kendra came toward her. “That Griffin must have been chatty. I was going to come back and—” She broke off and straightened in her seat. “What the hell is wrong?”

  Everything. No light. Lost. Alone. “Lynch,” she said unsteadily. She opened the driver’s side door. “Griffin said Lynch was killed last night.” She got into the car and just sat there. She should be doing something. Turning on the engine … “An explosion. He said the DNA was 98.7 percent positive.”

  “No way.” Jessie murmured, her gaze on Kendra’s face. “Not Lynch.”

  “Griffin says everybody dies.” Kendra was trying to keep her voice from breaking. “But I have to be sure. So I’m going back to my apartment and grab a bag and then I’m going to Portland. I’m going to stay there with Lynch until I know for certain that all of those FBI statistics aren’t bullshit.”

  “But you don’t think they are.”

  “Griffin doesn’t usually make mistakes like that. I’ve never known him to do it.” She swallowed. “He double-checked. And he thinks he’s right. Hell, he was being nice to me.”

  “Imagine that,” Jessie said dryly. “Just because you’re pale as a ghost and you look as if you’re going to shatter into a million pieces when you take your next breath.”

  “I won’t shatter. But I’m having a little trouble keeping myself pulled together. I can’t seem to think.” She reached out to start the car. “I’ll be better when I get on the road and start doing something.”

  “No, you won’t,” Jessie said flatly. “Not on this road and not in this car.” She opened her car door and got out. “Change seats. I’ll drive you home. I want us both to make it through this day without ending up in an ambulance.”

  “I’m fine, Jessie.”

  “No, you’re numb. And you’re trying to stay numb until the pain stops.” Jessie was opening Kendra’s door and holding out her hand. “But neither of us knows how long that will be. I have an idea that you could break at any moment.”

  “I won’t break.”

  “Yes, you will.” She was holding Kendra’s gaze. “You’re strong, but whatever was between you and Lynch was powerful as hell. It’s going to hit you and blow you apart. I don’t want to be collateral damage.” She added gruffly, “And I don’t want to have to pick you up and put you back together again. Let me get you back to your condo. Okay?”

  She wasn’t going to give up, Kendra knew. Jessie never gave up, Kendra thought wearily. “Okay.” She let Jessie pull her out of the car. “I know you’re just being kind, but I’m really all right. I’ll accept the lift home, but then you can leave me.”

  “Can I?” Jessie started the car. “Get in. We’ll talk about it when we get there. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re starting to shake. That numbness might be on its way out.”

  She was shaking, Kendra realized. She was suddenly cold. Cold as death.

  Death.

  Everybody dies, Kendra.

  “Get in,” Jessie repeated. “Now, Kendra.”

  The next moment she was in the car and Jessie was backing out of the parking space.

  Jessie was silent for the first five minutes of the trip. Then she said, “Okay, we’re going to Portland. What are we going to do there?”

  “I told you, I have to make sure,” she said. “And I don’t want him to be alone. He should have someone with him. He always seemed to be so alone, Jessie.” Then her words struck home. “We? You’re not going with me, Jessie.”

  “Yes, I am. Why not?”

  “Because I don’t want you.” She closed her eyes. “I don’t want you worrying about me or taking care of me. I can do this by myself.” Her eyes opened. She added unevenly, “Lynch was my very good friend and I want to do this alone.”

  “Very good friend? He might have been that to you, too. But he was a hell of a lot more. Anyone could see it.”

  Could they? Half the time Kendra hadn’t known what she was feeling toward him. Yet everyone else could see it? “I still want to do this alone. I don’t need you.”

  “Look, you don’t know what you’re going to find in Portland. If Lynch was murdered, then what’s to keep you from being a target? You should have someone with you.”

  “Griffin will have agents up there investigating.”

  “They’re not me,” Jessie said flatly. “Lynch trusted me to take care of you.”

  I like you to be surrounded by friends and people who care about you. It makes me feel safer about leaving you.

  Oh shit, her eyes were stinging. “But no one took care of him, did they?” she said shakily. “Not ever. He always took care of himself. And those bastards found a way to kill him because there was no one there for him. But they’re not going to get away with it. You’ll stay here and keep working on finding out who did this. I’ll do the same thing in Portland … after I find out what happened there.”

  But Griffin had said he already knew. Ninety-eight point-seven percent. Everyone dies, Kendra.

  Jessie was silent. “I don’t like it.”

  “Too bad. It’s the way it has to be.” She wished Jessie would stop arguing. Her shaking wasn’t getting any better and she was praying for the numbness to return. She could tell the pain was waiting, hovering. “I’ll be fine. I’ll keep in contact.”

  “How comforting.” Jessie was pulling up in front of the condo. “Not good enough.” She sat there for an instant and then turned to face Kendra. “Here’s how it’s going to work. I know I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, but I’ve got to make certain you’re as safe as I can make you. But you’ve got to cooperate.” She met her eyes. “Listen, you’re almost in shock and it wouldn’t take much to send you over the edge. I’m going to park your car down in your parking spot, but you’re not going to drive it to the airport. You’ll take a cab. I’m going to call Griffin and tell him to have an agent meet your plane and chauffeur you around in Portland. You’re going to call me when you get there and then once a day and let me know what’s happening. Do you agree?”

  “All this isn’t necessary. I’m not in shock. I’m just very, very sad.”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ve seen al-Qaeda torture victims who were in better shape. Give me your word or I’ll be on that plane to Portland with you.”

  It would be easier just to give in and handle this later. “I give you my word.” She opened her car door. “Thank you, Jessie. I know you mean well.”

  “I’m not finished. Remember, Olivia will be here for you if you decide to stay here and you need someone besides me.” Her lips tightened. “Because I’m going on record telling you this idea of you going to Portland sucks.”

  “I know Olivia is always there for me.” Now Kendra only wanted to escape. Jessie’s eyes were too sharp and she felt as if she could see right through her to the pain that was beginning to stab again. She was feeling very vulnerable as she almost ran toward the front entrance. “And I have to go to Portland.”

  “Then you might consider letting go before you get on that plane,” Jessie said quietly. “It’s going to happen soon and you’re not going to be able to stop it. You’re usually one very cool customer. The last thing you’re going to want is to lose control of yourself thirty thousand feet up.”

  “Right. Anything you say.” Then Kendra was inside the building. She stood there, breathing hard, trying to regain composure. One very cool customer? Not cool. Cold.

  She was cold again. Ice cold. What was wrong with her? Get moving. Get on the elevator. Get upstairs to her condo and grab a bag and then get to the airport. She’d be fine once she was on the move. Jessie was wrong. She could hold on as long as she had to. She had to get to Portland. She had to get to Lynch.

  She was unlocking the condo door. Only a few more steps and she’d be inside and allow herself a few
minutes before she started packing.

  Because she was feeling very strange. Was this what Jessie had meant about letting go? Because she had no choice in what was happening to her. The ice inside her seemed to be splintering. Not melting, but stabbing her with sharp, cruel jabs of feeling … of memory.

  I feel … valued, Kendra.

  She could feel the tears running down her cheeks as she pushed open the door. Get inside. Hide away for a little while. She’d be all right once she regained control. She had to be strong. Because she had to get to him …

  “Kendra?”

  She froze, her gaze flying across the room.

  Lynch was coming out of the kitchen with a glass of wine in his hand. He was frowning, his gaze on her face. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Then the wine glass was on the bar counter and he was across the room. His fingers were reaching out to touch the tears on her cheek. “Talk to me.”

  She couldn’t talk. She could only look at him. She could only feel him.

  Alive?

  Alive! He was alive. This was no hallucination. His touch on her cheek was just as she remembered. Warm and caressing … and Lynch.

  “Shut up.” She buried her face in his chest. “Just shut up and hold me.”

  He stiffened. Then he relaxed and his arms slid around her. “Delighted.” His cheek was pressed against her temple. “But I think we’re going to have to discuss this soon. I’m worried about you.”

  “Why?” The ice was just beginning to melt, but she didn’t want to let him go. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t know if she’d ever want to let him go. “I’m not the one who’s dead, dammit.”

  He went rigid again. “Okay, that’s a remark that requires explanation.” He pushed her back to look into her face. “And that might deserve my being very pissed off when I get that explanation. You thought I was dead?”

  She nodded jerkily. “What was I supposed to think? You were in that explosion. They killed you.” She knew how crazy that sounded, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to ask or answer questions right now. All she wanted to do was hold him and feel the strength and the life of him.

  He was swearing softly beneath his breath. “Griffin was supposed to tell you. Didn’t he call you?”

  “He called me. He said that you were dead. Ninety-eight point-seven percent probability that it was you.” She buried her head back on his chest. “I don’t care about any of that. Shut up right now, Lynch. I’m not in very good shape. I need a little time.”

  “I can see that.” His arms tightened around her. “And it’s making me homicidal. Okay, you’ll have your time.” He was moving her toward the couch across the room. “But you don’t mind if I spend that time plotting pain and mayhem?” He pulled her down on the couch and cuddled her close. “And you’re still crying, dammit…”

  “No, I’m not. There would be no reason…”

  “There’s not been anything reasonable happening since you walked into this condo today.” He was gently stroking her hair back from her face with a featherlight touch. “I thought I’d cook up some lasagna and we’d have wine and talk and plan our next move. I didn’t think that I’d end up aching like this. You’ve got to stop, okay?”

  “Always thinking about yourself…”

  “Self-preservation. And my plan was much better. Besides, you’ll be angry later that I saw you like this and you’ll punish me for it.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Yeah, you can’t punish me any more than you’re doing right now.” He cuddled her closer. “But you might not realize that and give it a try.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you.” She didn’t want anything in the world to hurt him. He was alive and the scent of him and his warmth … “But I will, if you don’t shut up for just five minutes.”

  He chuckled. “Now I know you’re better. Five minutes.” He pressed his lips to her temple. “I promise.”

  And he always kept his promises to her. That was why she had been so upset when she had not heard from him. Don’t think about it. Take this time. Just hold onto him and heal …

  Seven minutes later she straightened against him and then pushed him away. “You did that very well.” She took a deep breath and then swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. “I realize what a hardship it always is for you to not dominate every scene and conversation. Silence is not your forte.” She reached up to touch her cheek. It was still wet with tears. She got to her feet. “I’ve obviously got a few repairs to make.” She headed for the bathroom. “Why don’t you get me that glass of wine? And then we’ll talk and I’ll let you gloat over the fact that I behaved like such an idiot.”

  “That’s not fair, Kendra.”

  She looked over her shoulder. He had gotten to his feet and was gazing at her with those electric-blue eyes and those movie star good looks and neither of those things made a bit of difference in who he really was. What mattered was the gentleness with which he had held her and the empathy she had felt surrounding her during those moments. “No, it wasn’t fair.”

  She went into the bathroom and closed the door.

  She looked in the mirror over the vanity. Repairs, indeed. Red, swollen eyes, and her cheeks and nose were little better. She ran cold water and washed her face, ran a brush through her hair and left it at that. It would have to do. She still felt shaken, open and terribly vulnerable, but she looked decent enough.

  Lynch was turning away from the bar when she came out of the bathroom. He handed her a glass of merlot. “Feel better?”

  She nodded. “Yes.” She took a sip of wine and noticed he didn’t have a glass. “You’re not drinking?”

  “I’m very carefully balanced at the moment. I thought I’d pass on anything that might shift me either way.” He nudged her back toward the couch. “Are you ready to listen to me now?”

  She plopped down on the couch. He hadn’t seemed to notice that she was still not entirely normal. That meant she was doing okay. Don’t blow it. “Oh, yes, I insist on it. Start with Facey. I’m still too shaky to delve into your death scene. I’ll have to work up to it.”

  She listened quietly to everything he’d learned from Ryan Facey. “You did well. At least we have a grasp on what’s been happening.” She shivered. “And it’s worse than I dreamed. Either a serial killer or Brock’s team of military gangsters seemed bad enough. But now we know it’s both.”

  “But the key word is know,” Lynch said. “What we know, we can fight.”

  “I appreciate that word ‘know’ very much.” She took another sip of her wine. “Because it’s a concept that none of you wanted to share with me last night.” She concentrated and managed to keep her voice steady. “I’m still not good, but I think I’m ready to hear why Griffin was talking about you blowing up.”

  He shrugged. “We were in a kind of a bad spot and I was looking for a way to get Facey and me away from Brock’s people and that cabin. I’d noticed from my drone surveillance earlier that those two Brock goons had taken out insurance at getting Facey by planting explosives in the cabin. Since we had to get to Facey’s car on the other side of the cabin, I thought that I’d attract enough gunfire to make them impatient enough so that I could shape the situation to my advantage.”

  “Advantage?” She stared at him in disbelief. “You have to be an idiot, Lynch. By all means, tell me what advantage that could possibly give you?”

  “They were planting a lot of C-4. It was going to be a fairly big explosion. I thought it would be safer to let Brock think that both Facey and I were permanently out of the picture. Facey is giving us all the information he has about Brock. We needed to keep him safe and make certain Brock wouldn’t get nervous and start hiding evidence. And having me dead would make them feel even safer and let me work behind the scenes until it was time to move. So I … arranged it. No problem. The cabin ended up completely destroyed.”

  “And how close did you come to being completely destroyed?” she asked carefully.

 
“Not that close.” He met her eyes. “Okay, I did lose my leather jacket.”

  “Only a jacket. As you said, no problem. And Facey?”

  “He was fine. Though he was a little pissed off I hadn’t told him what I’d planned. Everything turned out all right. The cabin was such a disaster Brock’s men thought they’d done their job and took off. Griffin’s agent, Brian Nolan, showed up and took care of all the details about getting us out of there. I called Griffin to stage the bogus medical proof. That went off very well.”

  “Yes, it did.” She drained the rest of her wine in two swallows. “I noticed.”

  “But I also told him to call you and tell you about what we were doing. I was supposed to meet you back here. I told him I’d go through the building next door and then up to the roof that connects so I wouldn’t be seen. I don’t know what went wrong.” His lips tightened grimly. “But I’m going to find out.”

  “I’m sure you will.” She got to her feet, went over to the bar, and poured herself another glass of wine. She was holding herself together with all her strength. All she could see before her was that destroyed leather jacket he’d told her about. So casual. No problem. “But it will still be a little late, won’t it?” She leaned back against the wall and sipped the wine. “That little mistake had ramifications. I’d probably better call Jessie and tell her not to get on Griffin’s case. She was worried about me and she was planning to make Griffin assign agents in Portland to hold my hand when I arrived there.”

  “You were going to Portland?”

  “Did you think I’d stay here?” She took another drink of wine. “They’d told me someone had killed you. I had to be certain.” She lifted her glass to her lips. “And even if it was true, I couldn’t stand the thought of you being alone there. It bothered me. You know how weird I can be.”

  “I know how you can be,” he said softly. “And weird doesn’t come into it. Thank you, Kendra.”

  “You’re welcome.” She finished the glass of wine and set the glass on the bar. “It was a learning experience. I suppose I’m lucky, I’ve never had to go through anything like that before. I didn’t hold up too well. I’ll be better next time around.” Then she suddenly lifted her gaze to meet his. “No, I won’t,” she said fiercely. “Because you’re not going to let this happen again. You broke your promise. You said you wouldn’t let them hurt you.”