“Yeah, I went there for a little while … to see somebody.”
“You bought some weed.”
“Shit,” he said under his breath.
“And two women joined you here last night. At least for a couple hours. Friends of yours?”
He nodded.
“What time were they here?”
“Ask those snoop cops you had staking out my building,” he said bitterly.
“She’s asking you,” Lynch’s voice was steely. “And I suggest you tell her.”
Kendra tried to hide her smile. It was always nice to have a sledgehammer handy.
“Fine,” Warren spit out. “The girls were here maybe between eleven and one last night.”
Kendra nodded. “Too bad. If it was a little later, they could have helped you.”
“That’s why I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”
“Don’t lie to us anymore,” Kendra said wearily. “You aren’t good enough at it.”
He glared at her. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“We’re almost done here. Have you ever spoken to Colby by phone?” Kendra asked.
Warren considered the question, then admitted reluctantly, “Yeah. Twice. The first time was to remind me to send the Kendra Michaels pictures. The second time was just a couple weeks ago. Believe it or not, he offered me one of the family seats to witness his execution.”
“He did?” Kendra couldn’t hide her surprise.
“Yeah. He didn’t want his own family there, so he asked if I wanted to go. He thought it might give me something to paint.”
“Are you going?” Lynch asked.
“I thought about it. I’ve never seen a man die before, especially like that. An artist needs to open himself up to new experiences, you know?” Warren shook his head. “But in the end, I said no. I’d already gotten what I needed from him. Why in the hell would I put myself through that?”
Lynch handed him a card. “Just so you know, we may be following up with your friends and associates. If you have anything you’d like to tell us, now is the time to speak up.”
He shook his head. “No, nothing. Do what you have to do. I don’t give a damn.”
“That’s my number on the card, along with the number of the FBI field office. If you think of anything, just call.”
“I hear you.” Warren turned toward Kendra, who was looking at his still-drying painting of her. “Pretty sweet, huh?”
She nodded. “I have to admit it’s amazing. Especially since I know how quickly you did it.”
“I tried painting you a few other times, but they never came out right. But this is the first time I painted you with your eyes closed. For some reason, that makes the whole picture work.” He shrugged. “If I decide to do anything with it, I’ll let you know.”
CHAPTER
11
“INTERESTING TECHNIQUE,” Lynch said, as they exited the building and walked down the sidewalk to his car. “Bust him on some little stuff, create anxiety, then move in for the kill.”
“Spoken like the true puppetmaster you are.”
“So how did you know about his Friday evening drive to La Mesa?”
“The pizza box on the counter. The box itself was generic, but the laser-printed label on the side told me it was D’Agostino’s Italian restaurant. The label also had David Warren’s name and phone number and showed that it was a pickup order phoned in at 10:37 P.M. Friday. D’Agostino’s is just a few blocks from one of the most notorious drug neighborhoods in the city. Since I had already smelled three distinct types of weed in that apartment, it wasn’t a stretch to think that he had gone over there for a late-night fortification run. It would also explain why he hadn’t wanted to tell us about it.”
“And what about his guests last night?”
She shrugged. “There were two drinking glasses in the sink, and they each had slightly different shades of lipstick on their rims. The glass top of the coffee table showed fresh rings that matched the size and contours of those two drinking glasses, but no others I could see. Clearly, the women sat on the couch, and Warren sat in the chair facing the two of them.”
Lynch smiled. “Clearly.”
“The couch reeked of weed, enough that I figured they were there drinking and smoking for a couple hours.”
“Even I could smell that. But how do you know it was last night and not today?”
“Because the stench wasn’t on Warren. Not on his clothes or hair, meaning he had changed and showered between then and now. That tipped the odds in favor of last night. Also, the lipstick on the drinking-glass rims was dry and cracking. It probably wouldn’t look that way after only a couple of hours.”
“Dazzling as usual.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No, I wouldn’t presume. I’ve always known exactly what your capabilities are. However, you still manage to occasionally surprise me. But all this still doesn’t place him at or away from the murder scenes.”
“You’re right, but it did allow me to exert pressure and get more from him than we might have otherwise. All I know for sure is that he’s not the man I saw at Corrine Harvey’s house. That still doesn’t eliminate him as having played a part. Griffin should have his people flash Warren’s picture around at the club.”
“I’ll make sure he does.”
Lynch’s phone vibrated, and a second later the text chime sounded on Kendra’s. She glanced at her screen.
CONTACT GRIFFIN ASAP.
She showed it to Lynch. “You too?”
Lynch showed her his phone with the identical message. He punched Griffin’s number, and it was answered immediately. “Lynch, is Kendra there?”
“Yes, right next to me. I’m on speaker.”
“Good. Kendra, we just hit the jackpot on those numbers you picked up from the envelope in Colby’s cell.”
“It was a usage account?”
“Yes. It was a five-hundred-minute talk time refill from Lightwire Communication, a regional mobile carrier that sells disposable mobile phones and pay-as-you-go account cards. You usually see them at discount stores, price clubs, and gas stations. The card was activated in a mobile phone about three weeks ago.”
“We need to subpoena those records,” Lynch said. “I have a contact in the Justice Department who can help push that through in a hurry. If you give me the—”
“It’s already done, Lynch.” Griffin sounded annoyed. “I don’t need your contacts. Believe it or not, my position comes with a fair amount of influence.”
“Of course. Just trying to help.”
“Anyway, within the hour, we should have information on everyone who was called by this phone.”
Kendra’s hand tightened on the phone as excitement gripped her. “And there’s a good chance one of them is Myatt.”
“That’s the way we see it,” Griffin said. “We’ll immediately pull photographs on them, and we’ll send agents out to round up as many as we can. You two should probably be here for this.”
“Do you think we’d miss it?” Lynch took Kendra’s elbow and nudged her toward the car. “We’re on our way.”
* * *
THE MOMENT KENDRA STEPPED off the FBI office elevator and entered the second floor “war room,” she immediately sensed a different energy than on her other visits. There were more agents and support staff, now numbering approximately thirty, and they moved with greater purpose and barely contained excitement. They spoke louder and more quickly, and even the clicking of computer keyboards seemed to be supercharged.
“Can you feel it?” Lynch squeezed her arm. “It’s called optimism. You did this.”
“I just hope it pays off.”
Across the room, Griffin motioned for them to join him. Reade and a few other agents were at the long tables at the front of the room.
“The reports came in from the phone-service carrier,” Griffin said. “Every call originated from the tower that covers the prison.”
Kendra looked over his shoulder at one of the report copies. “What about the call recipients?”
“He called nine different numbers. We already have six identified. Three are here in Southern California, two in New York, one in Chicago. Most appear to be journalists. We’ll try bringing them in for questioning and see what they discussed. I’ve already alerted offices in NYC and Chicago.”