Dr. Ross leaned toward her. “Your turn. How did you know?”

“The other night, I noticed that both victims’ fingernails had snagged fine threads from the clothing they were wearing.”

“You didn’t mention that before,” Lynch said.

“I wasn’t sure if it meant anything. But it’s a bit unusual when it’s the fingers on both hands of both victims.”

“I noticed that,” Dr. Ross said. “But I’m embarrassed to say that it didn’t lead me to the answer that you found. So you think that the clothing on both corpses was changed?”

Kendra nodded. “When we put on shirts and jackets, we move our fingers in the sleeves to navigate past the fabric. The dead, of course, can’t do that. Their fingers get caught at every twist and turn, and their nails snag at the threads. This couple was killed, then their clothes were changed.”

Lynch grimaced. “Who the hell would do something like that?”

“Wayne Shetland,” Kendra said.

“Who?”

“It’s another one of my cases,” Kendra said. “Up in Fresno. Check the file in your tablet. Wayne Shetland murdered his victims, then dressed them in different ways. The press dubbed them the Paper Doll Murders.”

Lynch nodded. “So our copycat replicated another case from your past. He wanted to be absolutely certain that the police would see this for what it was. And he wanted it brought to your attention.”

Dr. Ross sighed. “If you’ll excuse me, I now have still more amendments to make in my report.” He cocked his head at Kendra. “Unless you have something else for me?”

“Not right now, but it’s early yet.” She headed back down the hall. “Thanks, Dr. Ross. I’ll keep you posted.”

*   *   *

LYNCH’S MOBILE PHONE RANG JUST as they reached his car. He unlocked her door for her but stood outside talking while she climbed inside.

She watched him speaking into the phone, obviously growing more tense and agitated by the moment. Since gaining her sight, she had been fascinated by the visualization of human speech—the delicate interplay of lips, tongue, and teeth. But her burgeoning lip-reading skills were now handicapped by Lynch’s intermittently turning his back to her as he paced. In any case, she didn’t need special skills to know this call wasn’t making Lynch happy.

He finally put away his phone and climbed into the car.

“Bad news?” she asked.

“Annoying news. I have to leave town.”

“When?”

“In about three hours. I’m afraid I’ll have to take you home.”

“Ah-hah. On orders from your boss who’s not really your boss?”

“Something’s come up in D.C. I guess I shouldn’t have cultivated the reputation of being so damn indispensable.”

“Really?” she said mockingly. “How sad that it’s come back to bite you in the ass.” She gave him a sideways glance. “Just out of curiosity, what’s come up?”

“It’s classified.”

“That, I figured. I also figured you would tell me anyway. I believe I’ve proved I can keep a secret.”

He laughed. “Yes, you have.”

“So spill it.”

“What the hell.” He threw up his hands. “Someone in one of the congressional offices has been leaking sensitive information.”

“Leaking it to whom?”

“To whoever will pay the most, probably. Lobbyists, defense contractors, journalists … Depending on what the information is. I’ve been charged with finding the leak and plugging it.”

“When you say ‘plugging,’ you’re not speaking in terms of a 1930s gangster movie, are you?”

He smiled. “As in, plugging someone full of lead? I love this dangerous and romantic conception you have of me.”

Actually, she could see Lynch in that tough, reckless role. The romantic concept was a harder stretch. Unless it was heavy on the sex. There was no question about Lynch’s sexual abilities and inclinations. “I just knows what I sees.”

“Well, no. I’m speaking purely in terms of stopping the leak. I’ve been planting false information during the past few weeks, and this morning it finally yielded something. Unfortunately, our suspected leaker isn’t talking. They want me to come back and lead the questioning.”

“Don’t you mean interrogation?”

“That’s probably a more accurate way of putting it. But they want him under more psychological duress than physical.”

“I can see why they’re desperate for your expertise. If there’s something you excel at, it’s driving people crazy.”

“I like how you take my gifts and twist them in such a way to make them sound like insults.”

“Oh, so your unique brand of manipulation is now a ‘gift.’”

“What would you call it?”

She tilted her head, thinking about it. “A curse. A bane. A blight. A pain in the ass. Take your pick.”

Lynch started the car and roared out of the parking lot. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to do without my gift for the time being. Perhaps young Agent Metcalf will get his chance with you after all.”

“I don’t need a tagalong.”

“Or you could just wait for me to get back. It will only be a couple days.”

She looked away from him. “A couple days can be a long time. In case you haven’t been paying attention, there’s a sicko out there who will kill again.”

“You’re not the only one working this investigation. You can use the time to get up to speed on the case files.”

She gazed at him in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding. You expect me to sit around waiting for you, spinning my wheels? Stay in D.C. as long as you want. I’ve always done very well working alone.”

“I know you have.” He paused. “But we both know this case is different. The killer wasn’t just targeting those victims. He was targeting you. He has you in mind when he’s planning his murders. Who knows what’s next?”

She didn’t answer. There wasn’t anything to say. She had been thinking the same thing.

She said it anyway.

“We all have a pretty good idea what’s next,” she said quietly. “It’s on one of those bulletin boards at the FBI field office.”

They drove in silence back to her condo. Why in the hell did Lynch’s imminent departure bother her? She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anybody.

Twenty-four hours earlier, he was the furthest thing from her mind. Now she was feeling all out of sorts because their hours-old partnership was suddenly interrupted, and he was off to intimidate some D.C. crook?

Because he was right. This case was different. And she might hate to admit it, but it felt good to have that sledgehammer by her side.

He pulled in front of her building and let the engine idle for a long moment before speaking. “You’ve got my number. Keep me posted, okay?”

“Sure.”

“And Kendra…”

“Yeah?”

He leaned forward and kissed her squarely on the mouth.

She tensed. What on earth was he doing? Her first instinct was to recoil. Her second was to press closer. The second instinct won out. She was kissing him back, she realized.

Strength. Warmth. Safety.

She had subconsciously expected any touch or overture from Lynch would involve sex and passion judging what she knew of him. Not this feeling of being guarded, treasured. It confused her …

He finally pulled away. “Say it,” he said warily.

“I’m not going to put you on the spot.” She had to catch her breath and steady her heartbeat. “I know it was an impulse on your part. A gesture to express your regret that I’m going to have to go it alone. It was very … friendly, and completely unnecessary.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to analyze my mind-set and actions so thoroughly,” he said with irony. “It’s a shame that you can’t be sure whether you’re right or not. That could be very frustrating.” He gave her another kiss on the tip of her nose. “Be careful,” he whispered.

She quickly climbed out of the car and almost ran into her building without looking back.

*   *   *

“WHAT IN THE HELL?”

Kendra actually said the words aloud after she entered her condo and plopped down behind the desk. Lynch’s impromptu kiss had left her bewildered and out of sorts.