Olivia turned toward Beth. “I told you she’d know. That’s one problem with being friends with Kendra Michaels. It’s tough to keep secrets.”

Beth nodded. “The story popped up on my iPad. I couldn’t believe it. Olivia here had to talk me out of driving over and pounding that wench into the ground.”

Olivia shrugged. “Didn’t think it was a good idea.”

“You’re right,” Kendra said. “One assault and battery charge is enough for the week.”

“But I felt exactly like Beth so I dug out my magnetic dartboard, and Beth and I set it up with an appropriate target.” She gestured to the wall in the living room. “Care to take a go?”

Kendra turned and burst out laughing. Sheila Hunter’s official photo had been pulled from the Web site and blown up to cover the dartboard, which emitted a pinging sound to allow blind players to zero in on its location. The target was covered with feathered darts, the most on the reporter’s smiling, lying, mouth. “You’ve been busy. I love it.”

“We needed to let out our frustration,” Beth said. “Olivia is much better at it than me. She’s got that magnetic stuff down to a science. Want to try?”

“No, thanks all the same. I vented in person.”

“So everything she told us was a lie?” Beth asked. “She just wanted an interview?”

“Pretty much.” Kendra filled them in on her conversation with Lynch and her follow-up with Sheila Hunter.

Beth’s fists clenched into fists. “Now I really want to pound her into the ground.”

“She’s not worth it. I’ve already given her more attention than I should have.”

Olivia nodded. “I’m sorry, Kendra. I know this is the last thing you need right now.”

“My mistake. I wanted it too much. I trusted her.”

“You know, The Kinsley Chronicle’s parent company tried to buy my site last year. It would have made me pretty rich.”

Kendra raised her brows. “Really?”

Olivia’s Web site, Outtasight, had quickly become a major online destination for the blind, who browsed its pages with one of several screen-reading applications. The site featured product reviews, interviews, and news stories, mostly written by Olivia herself. In a little over a year, what had been a spare-time hobby now afforded her a comfortable living.

“Yeah, I turned them down. What would I do, retire? Anyway, after seeing the number they pulled on you, I would never want to sell to a company like that.”

“I’m sure it’s just things the cops and FBI have been saying about me all along. They can say whatever they want about me, but as I told that reporter, I don’t want the investigation to be compromised. And I guess…” Kendra paused. “I guess I’m thinking of the families of Colby’s victims. They thought they had at least some measure of closure. This is just picking at the wound.”

Beth shrugged. “Hey, don’t worry about that. Whatever closure they had, they still have. Anyone who reads that article would have to believe you’re crazy.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“Anytime.”

Olivia gestured toward a chair at her dining-room table. “Have a seat, Kendra. Beth has been treating me to some concoctions of hers that will make you forget all your troubles. And probably your own name.”

Kendra chuckled. “Then I’m surprised you hit the dartboard at all.”

“I had motivation. That bitch hurt my friend.”

Kendra was touched. Their affection and support was soothing away the stinging indignation and outrage and putting the wound in perspective. “As appealing as that sounds right now, I think I’m going to pass. I’m just going to head back to my place and catch up on some paperwork.”

“No.” Olivia shook her head. “I’ve already promised to take Beth out and show her some of the San Diego hotspots. And you’re coming with us.”

“Not tonight, okay?”

Kendra expected Olivia to fight her on it. But after a long pause, she finally responded. “Okay. I’m not sure if the town could handle the three of us tonight. We’ll just bombard you with embarrassing texts to update you on our progress.”

“Do that.” She smiled. Olivia might still be blind, but she was the observant one, the person who always knew what the people around her needed. Kendra turned to Beth. “Will you be okay?”

“We’ll see. I’m not sure if I can keep up with Olivia here, but I’ll give it my best.”

“Oh, I have faith.” Kendra moved to the door and stepped into the hallway.

Beth was right behind her. “Kendra … Hold up for a second.”

She stopped. “Yes?”

“Look, this has turned out to be a horrible time for you to be playing hostess and tour guide for me. May I just hit the road and get out of your—”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Damn sure. Beth, your coming here is the only good thing to happen to me this week. Stay.” She smiled. “Please.”

“Okay.” She lowered her voice. “About Olivia … She’s supercool but I haven’t spent a lot of time with people that are…”

“Blind?”

“Yeah. Anything I should know?”

“Well, you probably shouldn’t let her drive. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Beth smiled. “Okay, I deserved that. Thanks for the tip.”

“My pleasure.”

*   *   *

“OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR!”

BAM BAM BAM.

“Kendra!”

She snapped awake. What in the hell…? She checked the time—10:40 P.M.

She was on her living-room sofa. She’d spent a couple of hours writing her day’s sessions, then curled up for what she thought would be a quick nap.

BAM BAM BAM.

“Kendra!”

Lynch’s voice.

Still groggy, Kendra hurried to the door and threw it open. “At least you didn’t jimmy the door this time. Though how the hell did you get past my entry buzzer downstairs?”

He pushed past her. “You went to see Sheila Hunter today.”

“Yes, you know I did. Is that why you’re here? To rub it in? You were right, okay? I should have just left horrible enough alone.”

“No. I’m not rubbing anything in. There were people who saw your blowup with her in front of the Hobart Building.”

“Good news travels fast.”

He glanced around, then grabbed her jacket from the back of a dining-room chair. “Here. Put this on. We’re going down to the marina.”

“It’s been a hell of a day, Lynch. The last thing I want to do is—”

His lips tightened. “We’re going.”

Normally, she would have been angered by his insistence. Not now. He wasn’t bullying her. She knew the difference between Lynch just wanting to have his own way and Lynch worrying.

And that worry was beginning to scare her.

“Why?” she asked. “What’s in the marina?”

“Sheila Hunter’s dead body. Or at least what’s left of it. She’s been murdered.”

CHAPTER 5

KENDRA SHOOK HER HEAD IN disbelief as she buckled herself into the passenger seat of Lynch’s Ferrari. “I can’t believe it. I just saw her a few hours ago.” She turned toward him. “You don’t have any details at all yet?”

“Next to none. A source of mine at the FBI field office just tipped me off. I didn’t wait for details.”

“So the FBI wants my help on this one?”

“No. Nobody asked for you.”

“Oh. Good to know.”

“As far as I know, the case is still under the jurisdiction of SDPD. But it’s a hell of a coincidence that she’s killed just hours after posting a story about your serial killer.”

“Since when did he become my serial killer.”

“Since you started tilting at the Colby windmill and became the only one who’s convinced he’s still out there. Though I guess he really became yours the night you put him away. He was obviously preoccupied with you.”

She looked down, remembering the chill she felt in Colby’s cell at San Quentin. Every inch of the place papered over with hundreds of photographs of her. He knew just how to burrow into her psyche.

And stay there.

Lynch’s car stereo was tuned to the local police band, and the speaker crackled with dispatches directing officers to the murder scene. Lynch turned down the volume with his steering-wheel control. “Anyway, if we waited around for you to get an engraved invitation to join the case, it might be too late for you to do any good.”