“Deal.” She looked at him with a surge of gratitude. He was solid and sledgehammer tough, and she could trust him to do anything he said he would do. How many people could you say that about? “So what’s first?”
“I guess we should report in to Griffin and see what progress he’s made.” Lynch routed the call through his car’s speakerphone. After briefly discussing their encounter with Norman Wallach, he said, “So what info do you have for us?”
“Not anything that’s very promising.” Griffin paused. “We need time, Lynch. And we haven’t got it.”
“That doesn’t sound good. You were more optimistic this morning.”
Griffin was silent. Then he said, “This isn’t easy for me, Lynch. I have a favor to ask.”
Lynch chuckled and glanced over at Kendra. “A favor. From me?”
“It’s not that big a deal,” Griffin said sourly.
“By all means, let’s hear it. I can’t tell you how I’ll enjoy having you in my debt.”
Griffin unfurled a string of curse words. “That will never happen, you smug son of a bitch.”
Lynch clicked his tongue. “And this is how you ask for a favor?”
“It’s not as if this wouldn’t benefit all of us. I’ve already asked the FBI deputy director to intervene with the governor.” He paused. “I’ve decided that we have no choice but to try to stay Colby’s execution while this investigation is active.”
Kendra felt as if she’d been socked in the stomach. The breath was knocked out of her.
No. No. No.
Lynch was no longer smiling as he glanced at Kendra’s expression. “Really? I thought that wasn’t on the table.”
“I don’t have a choice but to try. As we’ve already discussed, it’s going to be a tough sell. The governor’s office wants this execution to happen, and the longer it’s postponed, the greater the chance that Colby might decide to start the appeals process. We know what that means.”
“Dammit, it means his death sentence might never be carried out,” Lynch said. “Especially if California voters get another whack at capital punishment. The last time it came up at the polls, we came within 250,000 votes of doing away with the death penalty altogether.” He paused. “Which begs the question, do you really want to do this?”
“It’s a devil’s bargain, I know. But we have a serial killer on the loose, and we’re all sure Colby knows who it is.”
Kendra stared at Lynch in disbelief. So cool, so calm. How could he even discuss the possibility of letting that monster live even one more day?
“You may have a difficult time making the governor feel as sure,” Lynch said.
“That’s why I’m forced to ask you for help. I know you have some fairly powerful connections in Washington. People who owe you favors, perhaps.”
“Like you do, Griffin.”
Griffin ignored the comment. “The governor’s office is now evaluating our case-file brief, and we’ll hear by the end of the day. But I would appreciate any influence you can bring to bear.”
“I’ll think about it.” Lynch cut the connection.
“You’ll think about it?” Kendra repeated, amazed. “How can you even consider helping Griffin keep Colby alive?”
“I said I’d think about it, Kendra. I’m not as emotionally involved as you are. I have to weigh the pros and cons.”
“You’re damn right I’m emotionally involved, but I still see right and wrong.”
“Even if I threw in my influence, it would still be an uphill fight. Our governor ran on a state’s rights platform. He’s not going to be receptive to a lot of Washington power brokers telling him what to do.”
“Then let him do what’s right. I can’t understand why you would even contemplate helping Griffin.”
“Because I don’t want any more murders if I can help it.” They were approaching the FBI field office, and he pulled over to the curb. “I’m not you, Kendra. I’ll do what I think is right, not according to Kendra Michaels.”
She looked at him in anger and frustration. Only a short time before she had felt so close to him, and now they couldn’t be further apart. She suddenly couldn’t bear either Griffin’s move or that separation with Lynch. She had to escape.
“Fine.” She jumped out of the car. “But I don’t believe I can stand Griffin and all his people buzzing around trying to commit a crime of their own. I’ll see you all later.”
She heard Lynch curse behind her. The next moment, he was standing beside her. “You know it’s not safe for you to be strolling the streets.”
She kept walking.
He grasped her arm and whirled her to face him. He took her hand and dropped the keys to his Ferrari in her palm. “Take my car. But if you get so pissed you wreck it, you’ll have me to deal with. I’ll call you when we hear something.” He turned and walked away.
She looked down at the keys. He loved that stupid, ego-building car. It would serve him right if she—
But that would make her actions totally immature, and she wouldn’t do anything that lacked dignity. Her anger and viewpoint were just.
And Lynch should know that, dammit.
She turned and walked toward the Ferrari.
San Quentin Penitentiary
Chapel
8:40 P.M.
“THIS IS VERY GOOD OF YOU, WARDEN.” Colby smiled gently. “I’m grateful that you gave me this last opportunity. I didn’t want my final prayers to be in that cell.” He looked around the chapel. “This seems more … fitting.”
“It was a last request. You’re entitled to it as long as there’s no threat, and it doesn’t interfere.” Salazar gestured to the four guards. “Follow him to the altar but allow him space and privacy for his last prayers.” He turned to Colby. “Do you wish to see the chaplain?”
“Why? I’ve seen him before, but it’s too late now. I die in four hours. He can’t give me absolution. I don’t need a middleman.” He looked at the glowing candles and the crucifix above the altar. “How long before I have to go back to my cell?”
“I can give you thirty minutes.”
“That should be enough time.” He glanced at the guards. “I’ll try not to keep them waiting.” His lips twisted. “Nor you, Warden Salazar. I know this is going to be a big night for you. Is it going to be a full house to watch me die?”
Salazar said without expression, “I understand many people are interested.”
“I can see how they would be. I’m something of a superstar.” He started down the aisle, his gaze fixed on the flickering candles below the crucifix. “Let’s hope I won’t disappoint them with my performance.”
Salazar didn’t answer, and Colby closed him out of his mind. He was nothing. Colby had used him, but he was no longer important. He had to concentrate on the task at hand.
He moved into the second pew back from the altar. It was the same pew he’d occupied every time he’d come to the chapel for the last few days. He’d made sure that everything was exactly the same.
Even the guards were in their same positions in the aisle six pews to the rear.
He knelt and looked up at the crucifix. His lips moved as if in silent prayer.
His hand moved down beneath the pew in front of him.
He closed his eyes.
Let it be there.
He could control almost everything but the guard whom Myatt had bribed to do this job. It annoyed him that he’d had to leave details like this to Myatt. He could make Myatt do anything he wanted him to do, but he couldn’t control his choices when he wasn’t in contact with him.
But this time, evidently, Myatt had chosen well, and the guard was not quite a fool.
The cell phone was here.
He punched the access button, his gaze still on the flickering candles on the altar. “Bless you, my son,” he said mockingly. “You did well.”
“I told you I’d get it done,” Myatt whispered. “I had to do it. I haven’t been in contact with you lately. I had to make sure you knew that I was out here doing everything you told me to do.”