Windrey smiled proudly, as if expecting her to be as impressed with him as he obviously was with himself.
“Okay,” Kendra said. “What does that mean?”
Windrey was still smiling. “I was using your cordless phone. I was able to wirelessly intercept and record any call made to or from it. I think our killer is able to do the same thing. He intercepted your call to Agent Griffin yesterday. He knew you were headed to Corrine Harvey’s house even before the police did.”
Kendra slowly sat down at the conference table. “Incredible. I thought these digital handsets were supposed to be almost impossible to hack.”
“That was true once. The Digital Enhanced Cordless Telecommunications, or DECT, standards were pretty safe for years. But certain software tools used by manufacturers and security professionals to evaluate the devices have leaked onto the Web. They can be used to hack into wireless phones and other DECT devices like traffic lights in Germany and traffic-control systems in England.”
“Great. Very reassuring.”
“The good news is, you should be fine if you just plug in a corded handset.” He qualified, “At least for the duration of this investigation.”
“Absolutely. Believe me, I’ll be unplugging my cordless phone the second I get home.”
“No,” Griffin said quickly. “We don’t think you should do that quite yet.”
“But he just got through telling me that—”
“We may be able to use this, Kendra,” Agent Reade interrupted. “Think about it. We were discussing this earlier. We now have an advantage we didn’t have last night.”
Kendra’s glance moved slowly from agent to agent. “I believe I know where you’re heading.”
“Do you?” Reade asked. “I thought you might. And is it something you would be comfortable going along with?”
“Depends. What exactly do you want me to do?”
Reade opened a leather folio, pulled out a thin sheaf of papers, and placed them in front of Kendra. “This is your script.”
Kendra laughed. “My script? You aren’t fooling around.”
“It’s only meant to be a guide,” Reade said gravely. “What we have in mind is this: You’ll go home with your FBI guard in tow. A few minutes later, you’ll call Griffin with your cordless phone. We’ve crafted a scenario in which you’ve decided to visit the home of Kristy Ludwig, who was the victim in the minivan. We’ll have agents staked out all over your area. Windrey here tells us he probably has a listening station within a block of your condo. Anyone in the area who goes on the move after your phone call will be noticed by someone on our team.”
Kendra scanned the telephone script they had written for her. “You really think he’s still listening to my calls, even after last night?”
“Especially after last night,” Griffin said. “It goes back to the profile. He’s obviously fascinated by you and wants to be noticed by you. It follows that after finally making contact, he’d love to hear what kind of effect he had on you and your psyche. We think he may still be listening.”
She spent a few minutes going over the script. “If we do this as written, I could be setting myself up as bait.”
“I won’t deny it. You’ll be surrounded by our best agents. We need to draw him out.”
Kendra turned the sheaf of papers over. “Okay, what’s next?”
“Then, after the call, our agent takes you to Kristy Ludwig’s home. We’ll already be staked out there, but you won’t see any of us until you’re inside.”
“You really think he’d be brazen enough to try something again?”
“If you follow that script, we think he might at least follow you.”
“Did your profilers and behaviorists tell you that?”
Griffin sighed. “I detect a bit of cynicism in your voice.”
“Not at all. I have tremendous respect for the work your profilers do. I just don’t want to underestimate this killer. He’s taken great pains to study how I work, but I’m sure he’s also studied how the FBI works.”
“Possibly. But last night he took an enormous risk. We think it’s worth trying to coax him into taking another one. If he does, this time we’ll be ready for him. Will you help us?”
Kendra glanced around the table at the agents who were staring hopefully at her. She thought about it. The plan was risky on a number of levels besides the fact that working from a script went completely against her grain. But they were right, she realized. If this was going to work at all, the chances were better now, while he was still basking in his recent victory.
She finally nodded slowly. “Yes, let’s go for it.”
* * *
KENDRA PICKED UP THE CORDLESS handset and was surprised to see that her fingers were slightly trembling. Nerves or anticipation? If that soulless bastard was really listening, she wanted nothing better than to cut loose and threaten every form of bodily injury imaginable. But she couldn’t show her hand, whatever the hell that was.
She punched Griffin’s number. He answered on the second ring. “Michael Griffin.”
“Griffin, it’s Kendra Michaels.”
“You just left the office. Can’t get enough of us, huh?”
His attempt at natural-sounding banter sounded forced. She hoped to hell that her acting was better than his.
“Yeah, I just got in. Listen, I’ve been thinking. I want to visit Kristy Ludwig’s house. She was the driver of the minivan on the bridge the other night. Your team thinks she was snatched at her home, right?”
“Yes. Just like Corrine Harvey. But after last night, there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go there alone.”
“Then have some of your biggest and best meet me there. I think our killer might have left a calling card at Corrine Harvey’s house without even realizing it. If he inadvertently did the same thing again, I think we can get this son of a bitch.”
“A calling card?”
“Yeah. I didn’t even realize how important it could be until just now.”
“Uh-huh. So are you going to clue me in?”
“I’ll let you know if it pans out.”
“Come on. I can’t help you unless you help me.”
At least he could deliver that line realistically, Kendra thought. She had given him years of practice. “We’ll discuss it later. Right now, I just need to go to that house.”
Silence. “I can’t have anybody meet you there for at least an hour.”
“Then I’ll be there waiting.” She hung up the phone.
Your move, Myatt.
* * *
AFTER A HALF-HOUR WAIT, Kendra’s armed FBI escort drove her to Kristy Ludwig’s one-story home in Old Town. She was unnerved as they walked from the car to the house’s front door. Even though she knew there might have been a dozen agents watching her, she hated the idea of not being in control. The target on her back had never been bigger, and she had helped paint it there herself.
She felt her muscles relax as she stepped into the house and swung the door closed behind her.
Agents Griffin and Reade were in the living room.
“Are you okay?” Reade asked.
“Yes. Just tell me this paid off.”
Griffin and Reade exchanged discouraged looks.
Kendra cursed under her breath. “Nothing at all?”
“Not so far.” Griffin’s gaze narrowed at his laptop s screen on the coffee table. “No unusual movement in the vicinity of your condo building. We stopped a couple of people who were leaving buildings on your block, but nobody who didn’t belong there.”
“And here?”
“Not yet,” Reade said. “There are agents all over, and Metcalf has a bird’s-eye view from the parking garage at the end of the block. He hasn’t reported any suspicious activity.”
“Great.”
For the first time, Kendra glanced around the living room. She hadn’t considered visiting the house since the victim’s parents had already sent cleaning crews in and begun preparing their late daughter’s home for sale.
It was immediately apparent that Kristy Ludwig worked erratic hours, ate in front of the television, and occasionally smoked pot. Kendra’s visual scan abruptly stopped when she spotted a laundry hamper stuffed with baby toys. Damn. She remembered that Ludwig was a single mother who had left behind an eighteen-month-old girl. The toys and high chair brought it home in a way that a few lines in a case file could not.