“So what did you find out today?” Jessie asked.
“Your crackerjack sources didn’t tell you?” Lynch asked mockingly.
“There’s a bit of a time lag. The FBI has been pretty good about keeping Santa Monica PD posted on the status of the investigation, but they aren’t always timely. Find out anything interesting?”
Kendra turned to Lynch. “I want to tell her.”
“Your choice. This is your show.”
Kendra turned back to Jessie. Everything she’d told them lined up with the truth as they knew it. She found herself wanting to trust her.
“First things first,” Kendra said. “How long have you been following me today?”
“Since an hour or so ago, when you left the FBI field office.”
“Okay. We’ll start there.” Kendra told her about Waldridge’s appearance on the security video and their visit to the Baldwin Hills Walmart store.
Jessie was silent for a long moment. “Well, at least we know Waldridge is alive, or he was at that time.”
Kendra nodded. “We just need to find him.”
Jessie’s brow wrinkled in thought. “Maybe it’s just a matter of drawing him out.”
“That’s assuming he has his freedom. Someone was sure keeping close tabs on him at the store.”
“I’d like a frame grab of the person you saw watching him.”
“We can get you that.”
“Good.” Jessie hesitated, looking between Kendra and Lynch as if something had suddenly occurred to her. “Just out of curiosity, how much do you know about me?”
Kendra shrugged. “What could we know? Only what you’ve told us.”
“That’s not really true, is it?”
“What do you mean?”
Jessie got to her feet. Her entire body language spoke of wariness and defensiveness. “I told you I’ve done my research on you. If what I’ve read is true, I bet you knew quite a bit about me even before today.”
“I may have picked up a few things.”
“Like?”
She might as well tell her. In spite of Jessie’s toughness and wariness, that defensive attitude reflected a certain vulnerability. If she thought Kendra was hiding anything, it might get in the way. “I did think you were ex-military from your attack stance the other day, and now I’m sure of it.”
Lynch painfully touched his side. “My kidneys are also sure of it.”
Kendra stood up and slowly walked around Jessie. “You were in Afghanistan. Your father was also in the military. Your family moved with him, including quite a bit of your childhood in Western Europe. You were probably born in Bakersfield, where you spent your early years.”
Jessie smiled. “Tehachapi. About forty miles southeast of Bakersfield.”
“And I was doing so well. At least I think I was.”
“You definitely were. And still are. Anything else?”
“You’re a marathoner. You’ve done the Bay to Breakers run in San Francisco and the Honolulu Marathon. But for exercise you usually just go to Gold’s Gym, I’m guessing the one in Venice.”
Jessie nodded. “Wow. If I knew you better, I’d high-five you right now. And I usually think high fives are idiotic.”
“Then I take that as a compliment. Oh, you vacationed in Fiji a few years ago.”
Jessie gave a low whistle.
“And you or someone you know has been in Bermuda fairly recently.”
“My then-boyfriend about eight months ago.”
“It was clearly an amicable breakup.”
Jessie nodded in amazement. “Holy shit.”
Lynch leaned back and crossed his arms. “I keep waiting for this to get old, but it never does.”
Jessie bit her lip. “I can’t see it getting old, but something about this is really pissing me off.”
“You asked for it,” Kendra said.
“You’re right, I did. I guess I’m just uncomfortable being such an open book.”
“You aren’t,” Lynch said. “At least not to anybody except her.”
She was staring directly into Kendra’s eyes. “I consider myself a fairly private person. I think I’d feel better if you told me how you know all this.”
“You won’t feel better,” Lynch said. “But at least you won’t drive yourself crazy all night trying to figure it out. Trust me, I’ve been there.”
“As I said, I have trouble trusting anyone but myself.” Jessie stepped closer to Kendra. “How about where I’m from, and the places I’ve lived?”
“Linguistics.”
“You’re a linguist, too?”
“Amateur. When you’re denied the opportunity to form an impression of people by looking at them, how they speak becomes very important. After your kind rescue the other day, I told Lynch I could hear a Central Valley twang in your voice. Add in some subtle continental Europe vowel suppressions, and you have someone who spent a lot of time overseas in their younger years.”
“I didn’t have to be a military brat, though. What if one of my parents worked for an international company that moved them around a lot?”
“True, and that was certainly possible. But your fighting style made me think you had a military background, which significantly raised the chances that one of your parents had served.”
“But how did you know about Afghanistan?”
Kendra grabbed Jessie’s wrist and pushed up her sleeve. “You have a tan line here. You often wear a bracelet that’s fairly representative of Afghan tribal jewelry with beads and little bells. I’m thinking you bought that there.”
Jessie nodded. “Chicken Street in Kabul. I did two tours in Afghanistan.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Is it? I guess some people would call it that. What about my marathons?”
“I saw your motorcycle, remember? You have a Bay to Breakers water bottle tethered to your drink holder and a Honolulu Marathon license-plate frame. I also saw a Gold’s Gym bar-code tag on your key ring. It was easy to spot because I have one on mine. I guessed the Venice location because it’s close to the mailing address on your private investigator’s license. I’ve meant to go there every time I’ve attended symposiums at UCLA.” She made a face. “Somehow, I’ve always found an excuse not to go.”
“Probably the same excuses I often seem to find.” Jessie thought for a moment. “My key ring also told you about Fiji, didn’t it?”
“Hard to miss with that red-and-yellow tiki-mask pendant. It shows a lot of wear, so it’s something you’ve probably been carrying for years.”
“Wait one minute. How the hell did you recognize that mask as Fijian? You’ve only had your sight for what, ten years?”
“Nine.”
“Most people go their whole lives without being able to recognize things like that.”
“Most people have probably seen that mask dozens of times in different places. They just don’t remember. Sight is such a gift to me that I try to take nothing for granted.”
“I got that. But there’s nothing to see on me or my motorcycle that could tell you that I or someone I know has been to Bermuda.”
“You’re right, but there is something to smell. You’re wearing a perfume called Easter Lily. It’s very distinctive, but the only time I’ve smelled it on anyone is when they or a loved one brought it back from Bermuda themselves. I haven’t investigated this, but my guess is that you only buy it there.”
“Which is what my ex-boyfriend did. He bought it for me at the perfumery.”
“The fact that you’re still wearing it tells me that it wasn’t an unpleasant breakup. Otherwise, that bottle would probably be buried in a landfill by now.”
“Right again.”
“Feeling less violated now?”
“Oh, no.” She deadpanned, “More violated than ever.”
“Like I said, a normal reaction,” Lynch said.
“And that remark makes me feel even more violated. People don’t usually accuse me of being normal.”
“This really isn’t your day, is it?”
Kendra frowned. “All my parlor tricks aren’t worth a damn if they don’t help to get Waldridge back.”