Everything she had said was true, she thought as she went down the staircase to Olivia’s condo. But it didn’t stop her from feeling a little lost without Lynch. No, a lot lost. The sadness and panic when she thought about Dee were there every moment, and being with Lynch usually seemed to ease any loneliness or pain.
Which meant she was entirely too dependent on him. This might be the learning experience she needed. What she’d told Metcalf was correct.
She and Jessie would get along fine without Lynch.
* * *
Kendra followed Jessie to her home in Venice, a beach community within sight of the Santa Monica Pier. Jessie’s small two-story house was a comfortable distance from the tourist-plagued boardwalk, situated along one of the community’s many charming canals. The waterway was lined with tufts of tall grass and a variety of colorful plants, each chosen according to the whims of the individual homeowners.
Kendra looked up at the house as she climbed out of her car and joined Jessie on the sidewalk outside. “I can’t believe I’ve never been to your place before.”
Jessie shrugged. “You’ve been to my office. That feels more like home to me.”
“I don’t believe that. This is amazing. Right on the canal. How did you find it?”
“It found me. Or its previous owner did, right before he was killed by his girlfriend and her Zumba instructor.”
“Seriously?”
Jessie nodded as she unlocked the front door. “Yep. And after I cracked the case, the man’s son gave me a sweetheart deal on the place. Trust me, I couldn’t have afforded it any other way.”
Jessie pushed open the door and punched the entry code on her alarm keypad. Kendra looked around the foyer and living room. The open layout gave her a view all the way back to the floor-to-ceiling windows that perfectly framed the small yard and canal outside.
“Beautiful.”
“Thanks. By the way, the previous owner’s body was found just about where you’re standing now.”
Kendra looked down at the Italian tile. “FYI, if you ever decide to sell this place, you should let the listing agent do the talking.”
“Probably a good idea.” She was suddenly grinning. “Nah, I was just kidding you. He was killed outside, near the beach. Though it probably wouldn’t have bothered me. That only happens when it’s someone I care about. I’ve lived side by side with murder and death from Afghanistan to the Hollywood Hills since I was a teenager. I’m not callous about it, but I accept it.”
“Particularly when you decide you want to freak me out?” Kendra asked dryly.
“Yep, particularly then.”
Jessie flipped on the lights, giving Kendra an even better view of the place. While her office had a 1940s retro vibe, the house was funky chic, with tasteful splashes of color accenting adventurous furnishings and artwork.
“Well done,” Kendra said. “Your taste or the dead man’s?”
“Mine. I totally gutted the place and started from scratch. I did it pretty much all myself.”
“Impressive. I can’t even seem to find the time to replace my drawer pulls.”
Jessie pointed to her sleek galley kitchen just off the living room. “You’d probably think I was bragging if I told you I made all the cabinets, too.”
“I hate you.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
Kendra looked at a wall of photos in the living room, accented by colorful frames that somehow complemented rather than overpowered the pictures. Kendra had seen some of the same shots in Jesse’s office, surveying her past as an Afghanistan army vet, a popular contestant on the American Ninja television show, and her stint as Delilah Winter’s security director. Several shots pictured Jessie with a strikingly handsome man who occasionally wore horn-rimmed spectacles and tailored jackets.
Kendra pointed to the man. “Who’s this guy?”
“Oh. Him.” She shrugged. “No one to speak of.”
“That obviously isn’t true. You have half a dozen pictures of him on your wall, spanning at least…” Kendra looked at the photos a moment longer. “…nine years.”
Jessie pulled her away from the wall. “Don’t pull that Kendra Michaels shit on me. There will be zero pictures of him as soon as I get some new frames.”
“Sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Trust me, there isn’t,” she said curtly.
Kendra couldn’t help being curious. The way the man in the photo was regarding Jessie was very…intimate. And why not? Some of those photos revealed how beautiful Jessie was when she wasn’t being the fiery dynamo Kendra knew her to be. Those high cheekbones, that wonderful mouth that was so expressive. Usually Jessie was frank and open regarding the multitude of interesting men who moved in and out of her life. But she clearly didn’t want to talk about this one, so Kendra decided to let it go. “Okay. Whatever you say.”
Her gaze wandered to another wall where ceiling spotlights showcased an odd collection of objects: a bicycle horn, a matchbook, an eight-track tape, a set of keys, and a thermal coffee mug, among other things. The items were arranged artfully, but Kendra spent a long moment trying to figure out their meaning.
Jessie smiled at her obvious confusion. “It’s a souvenir collection.”
“Souvenirs of what?”
“Of my cases. Each one of those things played a part in my cracking an investigation. I’ve spent so many nights wanting to beat my head against that wall that this seemed like a healthier way to go. They remind me that the solution is always out there waiting to be found. Even if I don’t recognize it at first.”
Kendra nodded. “When we find Dee, you’ll put something else up there.”
Jessie nodded firmly. “I will.”
“We will find her, Jessie.”
Jessie stepped away from the wall and looked out at the canal. “I’d feel better if we knew why she was taken. A ransom note, a manifesto, anything. You know?”
“I know.”
“Until then, we don’t even know if she’s still alive.”
“She’s alive. If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her at the same time they killed the members of her security team.”
“I keep telling myself that.”
“Believe it.”
Jesse nodded, but Kendra knew that she was still worried out of her mind. Words weren’t going to help. Try to distract her. “Come on.” She motioned toward a pair of white wooden beach chairs out on the back patio. “Let’s sit down and take in that million-dollar view. I can tell you what I learned from Kelland on the way down here.”
“Kelland? You talked to him?”
“He took my call right away, believe it or not.” Kendra opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the patio. “And I don’t think my friends at the San Diego FBI office even had to lean on him to do it.”
Jessie joined her outside. “Why are you surprised? I think you impressed him last night. And he’s probably heard how much his colleagues have benefited from your help over the years.”
“Maybe.” Kendra sat down and gazed at the canal. “Anyway, they got some info on those speaker cabinets backstage. They were delivered about one thirty in the afternoon, shortly before the sound check. Delilah’s crew thought they belonged to the Bowl, and venue staff thought they were part of Delilah’s show. No one paid attention to the speakers, but there’s some thought that the people who took Delilah may have been hiding inside them all day.”