Read Online Sight Unseen by Iris Johansen, Roy Johansen - Free Book Online
Authors: Iris Johansen, Roy Johansen
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Lynch’s impromptu kiss had left her bewildered and out of sorts.
And admittedly aroused.
That sexual response had come out of nowhere after she had carefully detailed the reasons why it couldn’t be that kind of reaction or caress. Or perhaps it had been waiting below the surface, submerged by her surprise that Lynch had acted in a way that she considered out of character. As she had left him, she had suddenly been swept away by a physical jolt of pure lust that had sent her running. It shouldn’t have startled her, she told herself. From the moment she had met him, she recognized that Lynch was a force with which to be reckoned on all levels. She had just experienced one of the more primal levels, and it made her a little dizzy. The essential maleness and sexuality of Lynch, the feel of him.
Probably just the reactions he was going for.
And yet it hadn’t seemed calculated. Lynch’s actions were generally designed to achieve a specific result, but this one seemed spontaneous, beyond the realm of any rational thought. And that last kiss on the tip of her nose had been definitely big brotherly.
To hell with him. She’d be damned if she was going to spend the next couple of days trying to figure out what it meant, when he probably didn’t even know himself. Especially when bikini-model Ashley was out there waiting to jump back into his bed.
Kendra pulled the flash drive from her pocket and plugged it into her computer. She perused the document files, both for the current investigation and collections of Web forum posts devoted to her and her cases.
She knew from her e-mails just how fascinated some people were about real-life murders, but she was still amazed at the level of obsessive interest on display. There were dozens of true-crime forums, she discovered, each populated with scores of people who traded opinions and insights over the cases that were hot in the media at any given time. Their fervor was such that they might as well have been discussing favorite sports teams.
And she was one of the players.
Although she never discussed her cases with the media, that didn’t stop other cops, family members, and even perps from spilling their guts to whoever would listen. The discussion boards frequently got the facts wrong, but she was surprised at the number of tiny details they actually got right. Her surprise wasn’t because the details were necessarily secret but because she didn’t think anyone could possibly care about each case’s minutiae.
But clearly some people did care, and one of them had murdered six people.
Kendra finally turned her attention to the current investigation files, which featured photographs of each place where the Cabrillo State Bridge victims had been killed or abducted. She paged through dozens of shots of the Sabre Springs home where Corrine Harvey and Gary Decker had been taken.
Typical Southern California Spanish-style home, all stucco and clay-tile roof. The pics didn’t show much. Hopefully, the cops and the FBI hadn’t already traipsed all over the place and destroyed whatever value the scene could have to her.
She picked up her phone and punched Griffin’s mobile number.
He answered immediately. “Griffin.”
“It’s Kendra.”
“No kidding. You know, they invented something a few years back called caller ID…”
“If you’re through being a smart-ass, I want to take a look at Corrine Harvey’s home in Sabre Springs.”
“Now?”
“Yes. As soon as possible. The scene hasn’t been broken down, has it?”
“No, it’s still sealed under the jurisdiction of San Diego PD. But I heard that Adam Lynch had to hightail it back to Washington.”
“That’s right, he did. Can you get me a key?”
“Look, it’s already getting dark out. Why don’t we wait until tomorrow morning? I’ll have Metcalf or Reade call you and arrange—”
“That’s pretty lame. I’m not afraid of the dark. And I don’t need anyone to hold my hand, Griffin. Do you want
And admittedly aroused.
That sexual response had come out of nowhere after she had carefully detailed the reasons why it couldn’t be that kind of reaction or caress. Or perhaps it had been waiting below the surface, submerged by her surprise that Lynch had acted in a way that she considered out of character. As she had left him, she had suddenly been swept away by a physical jolt of pure lust that had sent her running. It shouldn’t have startled her, she told herself. From the moment she had met him, she recognized that Lynch was a force with which to be reckoned on all levels. She had just experienced one of the more primal levels, and it made her a little dizzy. The essential maleness and sexuality of Lynch, the feel of him.
Probably just the reactions he was going for.
And yet it hadn’t seemed calculated. Lynch’s actions were generally designed to achieve a specific result, but this one seemed spontaneous, beyond the realm of any rational thought. And that last kiss on the tip of her nose had been definitely big brotherly.
To hell with him. She’d be damned if she was going to spend the next couple of days trying to figure out what it meant, when he probably didn’t even know himself. Especially when bikini-model Ashley was out there waiting to jump back into his bed.
Kendra pulled the flash drive from her pocket and plugged it into her computer. She perused the document files, both for the current investigation and collections of Web forum posts devoted to her and her cases.
She knew from her e-mails just how fascinated some people were about real-life murders, but she was still amazed at the level of obsessive interest on display. There were dozens of true-crime forums, she discovered, each populated with scores of people who traded opinions and insights over the cases that were hot in the media at any given time. Their fervor was such that they might as well have been discussing favorite sports teams.
And she was one of the players.
Although she never discussed her cases with the media, that didn’t stop other cops, family members, and even perps from spilling their guts to whoever would listen. The discussion boards frequently got the facts wrong, but she was surprised at the number of tiny details they actually got right. Her surprise wasn’t because the details were necessarily secret but because she didn’t think anyone could possibly care about each case’s minutiae.
But clearly some people did care, and one of them had murdered six people.
Kendra finally turned her attention to the current investigation files, which featured photographs of each place where the Cabrillo State Bridge victims had been killed or abducted. She paged through dozens of shots of the Sabre Springs home where Corrine Harvey and Gary Decker had been taken.
Typical Southern California Spanish-style home, all stucco and clay-tile roof. The pics didn’t show much. Hopefully, the cops and the FBI hadn’t already traipsed all over the place and destroyed whatever value the scene could have to her.
She picked up her phone and punched Griffin’s mobile number.
He answered immediately. “Griffin.”
“It’s Kendra.”
“No kidding. You know, they invented something a few years back called caller ID…”
“If you’re through being a smart-ass, I want to take a look at Corrine Harvey’s home in Sabre Springs.”
“Now?”
“Yes. As soon as possible. The scene hasn’t been broken down, has it?”
“No, it’s still sealed under the jurisdiction of San Diego PD. But I heard that Adam Lynch had to hightail it back to Washington.”
“That’s right, he did. Can you get me a key?”
“Look, it’s already getting dark out. Why don’t we wait until tomorrow morning? I’ll have Metcalf or Reade call you and arrange—”
“That’s pretty lame. I’m not afraid of the dark. And I don’t need anyone to hold my hand, Griffin. Do you want
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