The Bait

by Carol Ericson

  She finished creating the account but couldn’t post right away. The admins had to approve her account. Just like they’d approved the accounts of Cannon and Fisher? Of course, how were they supposed to know who lurked behind a keyboard and username?

  Kyra shoved the computer from her lap and padded into the kitchen to make more tea. As she waited for the water to boil in the microwave, her cell phone buzzed against the counter.

  She scooped it up when she saw Jake’s name on the display. “Hey, you. Pizza’d out?”

  “Pizza, slasher movie and I’m done...but it was good.”

  Jake had squeezed in that second part of the sentence to make sure Kyra didn’t think he was complaining about being a dad. He didn’t have to prove anything to her, but he did to himself.

  “Sounds lovely. Did you happen to tell Fiona you lived slasher movies and didn’t need to watch them?” Her microwave dinged and she removed her mug of water, now bubbling.

  “Naw, I let her choose. Let her choose the pizza, too, and spent several minutes picking pineapple off my slices.” He paused and lowered his voice. “You don’t think there’s anything...wrong with a girl her age interested in those kinds of movies, do you?”

  “If there were, those moviemakers would go out of business. Slasher film makers cater to the bloodthirsty teen market. Why do you think so many of them feature clueless hot teens in cabins or in high school?”

  “You got a point.” Jake let out a sigh as if that question had been bothering him for hours. “Did you have a good dinner with your friend?”

  “Good and a little early. She’s a new mom and was anxious to get back to the baby. I guess she doesn’t trust her husband to be a good father.”

  “Maybe she’s right.”

  Kyra ripped open the foil for her tea bag and dredged it in the water. Idiot. Jake didn’t need reminders of his own failures as a father, although his wife had cheated on him. He hadn’t been the one to let down Fiona.

  Jake cleared his throat and took a sip of something. “What did you do with the rest of your evening?”

  Her gaze strayed to the laptop on the coffee table. “This and that. Answered a few emails, scheduled some appointments for my clients.”

  “I just wanted to touch base with you and apologize again for canceling our plans. I do want you and Fiona to get to know each other, but I feel like I need to get to know her first.”

  “No apology necessary.” Especially since she’d just lied to him about how she was spending her evening. He wouldn’t be thrilled to find out she’d been trolling Websleuths. “We can always catch up at work and maybe manage a few quickies in our cars.”

  He choked on his drink as he laughed. “Something to look forward to...and something to fall asleep to.”

  “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” When she placed her phone back on the table, she dunked the tea bag into the water a few more times and carried her mug back to the couch.

  She refreshed her email and clicked on the link to verify her new account with Websleuths. She launched the website and scrolled past the different threads. Current crimes made the most sense, and missing women would attract fans of The Player. Her stomach turned at the idea that the man who had murdered her mother and other young women had fans.

  She dove into the discussion about the young woman in Alabama, starting at the beginning. The first post in the discussion group contained all the pertinent information about the case, and Kyra soaked in this data to get a handle on things. After reading the messages, she had her own thoughts about the crime. She’d have to take it easy and not come off like a know-it-all. The guys lurking around these boards for kicks would want to keep a low profile.

  Taking a deep breath, she flexed her fingers and typed her first post as Laprey. She managed an introduction as a first-time poster, therapy student with a keen interest in this case because of attending the same college where the woman, Amanda Yates, had been abducted.

  Kyra sat back and took a sip of tea. Within seconds of her post, she’d earned a few likes. Minutes later, the moderator welcomed her to the board, and a few other members asked her some questions about the campus. She scrambled around online to find some of the answers to the college questions, and she made up answers to others, such as whether or not she had felt safe there. A hundred different girls on any campus could answer that question with their own spin.

  She yawned and glanced at the time on her computer. She’d spent a good two hours on the website. It lured you in and trapped you, at least those with the same morbid sensibilities.

  As she moved the cursor to the upper-right corner of the screen to log off, an alert next to her username caught her eye. She had a couple of private messages already.

  Her pulse fluttered, and she clicked on the first message. She read the standard welcome message to the website, and her breathing returned to normal. Then she clicked on the second message, and her heart skipped a beat.

  Some other user, Toby Dog, who hadn’t been posting, had sent her a message, and it didn’t look standard at all.

  Her cursor hovered over the last word, as she read aloud, “You wanna play?”

  Chapter Five

  Jake stood outside Fiona’s bedroom door and tapped again. “Fiona, are you awake?”

  She mumbled and he took it as an invitation, easing open the door. His eyes adjusted to the gloom, and he figured the lump beneath the covers resembled his daughter.

  “I have to leave now, but I made breakfast. Don’t sleep too late. You have to do all your assignments before you can see Lyric today.” He and Fiona had had a good time the night before, and he’d promised her she could go to Lyric’s house in Westwood as long as she completed all the lessons her teachers had assigned.

  She mumbled again and peeked from the corner of the sheet. “Half hour.”

  “Okay, I’ll be calling you to make sure you’re up.” He took a breath. Should he tell her he’d be checking up on her and that she had to video chat with him so he could make sure she was really working?

  Would that be too draconian? If he’d had a son instead of a daughter, he’d know what to do. A few threats of bodily harm had always worked for him and his brother.

  “Close the door, Dad.”

  He backed up and snapped the door shut. You couldn’t threaten a girl physically, but there had to be a way to come down on her. Maybe he needed another talk with Quinn. Kyra had admitted she’d been a handful. Quinn and Charlotte must’ve done something right because Kyra had turned out...great and her situation had been fraught with more trauma than Fiona’s.

  As he grabbed his coffee cup, he eyed the bacon and scrambled eggs on the stove top. Had Tess mentioned that Fiona had recently become a vegetarian? Shrugging, he stuffed a strip of bacon in his mouth and left for the station.

  When Jake got to work, he sat down immediately with the forensics team that had taken possession of the note from the killer.

  Clive, their print guy sat across from Jake at the table and dangled the plastic bag from his fingers before dropping it like it was some poisonous creature. “No prints on the paper, but we didn’t expect any. All of these killers have been careful with their prints.”

  “Except Cyrus. He inadvertently left a partial on that tape. We have to keep hoping they’ll make a mistake.” Jake prodded the bag, shoving it toward Geoffrey, one of the other forensic team members. “Paper? Ink?”

  Geoffrey flipped through his notes. “Nothing special about either. The paper is standard printer paper that can be purchased anywhere from the local corner drugstore to a big box store. Pen is a cheap blue ballpoint, like a million others.”

  Jake hunched forward and positioned the note in front of Evie, their handwriting expert. “Give me some good news, Evie.”

  “At least it’s handwritten and not made up of cutouts.” She pulled her reading glasses from the top of h
er head and studied the note through the plastic as if looking at it for the first time, even though Jake knew she’d already analyzed every line and swirl. “Distinctive enough that if we had a handwriting sample from a suspect, I could nail him—as long as he wrote in block letters.”

  “If we only had a suspect.” Jake shifted in his chair and took a swallow of his coffee.

  “You’re going to communicate with him, right?” Evie removed her glasses and twirled them around in her fingers by one tortoiseshell arm. “I mean, did Captain Castillo advise you to respond to him and keep the lines open?”

  “I haven’t talked to the captain yet, but I’m sure he’ll suggest it.”

  “That won’t—” Clive cleared his throat “—encourage this guy? I mean, if he has the ear of the lead detective. Won’t that embolden him? Lead to more murders?”

  Geoffrey snorted. “You could make the other argument. If J-Mac doesn’t respond to him, it might anger him and he’ll kill more.”

  Jake pulled the bag back into his realm and toyed with the edge of it. “Good point, both of you, but I don’t think my response one way or another is going to have an effect on how much he kills. He’s got an itch now, and he’s gotta scratch it. But making him my pen pal might lead to more evidence for us, might lead to a mistake on his part.”

  He snapped up the note. “Thanks for your work. I’m sure it won’t be long before we have another note to break down, but as long as this one has already been checked in as evidence I’m going to hang onto it for now.”

  As the forensics team left the small conference room, Jake traced over the letters of the message with his fingertip. The killer followed his own press, knew about the task force, knew the lead detective on the task force. They had to be able to use that to their advantage.

  The door behind him opened and he jumped.

  Kyra poked her head into the room. “Scare you?”

  “Deep in thought.” He pinched the corner of the bag and held it up. “Nothing on the note, but if we can keep them coming maybe he’ll reveal something.”

  “He’s already revealed a few things.” She pulled out the chair Clive had just vacated and sat on the edge, folding her hands in front of her. “He’s more of an attention seeker than the other two copycats. Probably means he has a lower sense of self-worth.”

  “Seems counterintuitive.”

  “A lot of psychoanalysis is. You’d know that if you were in deep therapy instead of behavior modification anger management.” She scooted closer to the table and the scent of roses enveloped him. “Because he feels less worthy, small, he had to make himself into a big man, a bully. You must be very threatening to him.”

  He blinked and dragged his gaze away from the creamy skin of her throat. He’d once only imagined what that would feel like beneath his lips. Now he knew, and it didn’t make it any easier to concentrate on her words when he’d missed her last night.

  “Pay attention.” She rapped her knuckles on the table in front of him, the slight curve to her full lips a sure sign that she knew what he’d been thinking. She frowned and got serious. “You’re large and in charge. Physically, you’re a big guy. You’re a handsome guy. You have the world by the...throat. You must be very intimidating to copycat three. In fact, that’s what you should call him—he’d hate it.”

  Jake rubbed his chin. “If he only knew I had a rebellious, runaway daughter at home and couldn’t get two minutes alone with my woman, he might feel differently.”

  “He’s not going to know that. He sees this—” she framed him with her hands “—perfect image of manhood that he can’t hope to compete with, but he’s going to show you because he’s a killer and you can’t catch him.”

  “Not yet.” He grabbed her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, his lips measuring each throb of her pulse. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  Her gaze darted to the corner of the ceiling. “No cameras in here?”

  “Nope. We could lock the door, and I could ravish you on the conference table.”

  “You’re losing it, J-Mac. I’m pretty sure that thought never occurred to you before. Now, Billy...”

  “Are you maligning my partner?” He held up one hand. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

  She slipped her hand from his. “Do you think the pizza and slasher movie helped you bond with Fiona last night?”

  “I hope so. She was still sleeping when I left this morning.” He checked the time on his phone. “I was supposed to call and remind her to log on to the computer for her lessons.”

  “One more thing before you do.” Kyra tapped two of her fingernails against the table. “I didn’t actually come in here to give you a profile of Copycat Three or to stalk your impure thoughts.”

  Jake narrowed his eyes at the nervous vibe emanating from Kyra. This almost sounded like confession time. “Go on.”

  “D-did you have any luck looking at Websleuths?”

  “I only checked yesterday. I plan to dive into it some more today.” He steepled his fingers and studied her flushed face over the point. “Why?”

  She took a deep breath. “I did a little research myself last night when I came home from dinner. I created an account for myself on Websleuths and hopped onto a thread about that college girl missing in Alabama.”

  Jake swallowed. This was his fault. He never should’ve told her which website the previous two killers had been using to post messages, but he did feel a prick of satisfaction. The Kyra from a few months ago never would’ve told him about her sleuthing. He didn’t want to make her regret it, either.

  “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, but I suppose it can’t hurt for you to get an idea of what kind of people post and interact there. It might be helpful to the investigation...as long as you don’t actively insert yourself into any offline chats or anything.”

  Kyra opened her mouth and then snapped it shut. “It’s an interesting phenomenon, isn’t it? All these amateur detectives. They really seem to care about these cases, these victims. Has the LAPD ever used any of the crime boards for information?”

  “I haven’t personally, but we’ve gotten a few tips from the boards. Nothing that ever checked out, as far as I know.” He ran the side of his thumb along the edge of the bag with the note glaring at him from inside. “I still need to discuss my response to this note with Castillo. Any ideas?”

  “Hmm.” She wrinkled her nose as she tilted her head and her blond ponytail slid over her shoulder. “I do think you should call him Copycat Three. I don’t think he’d like that at all, and it’s good to needle someone like this. It might enrage him enough to make him slip up. Have you decided what medium you’re going to use to respond? In the old days, newspapers worked, but not many people read newspapers anymore. In fact, I’m sure this guy has been reading his press online.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m convinced he knows what you look like. I’m not sure the Times has ever printed your picture.” She snapped her fingers. “You know that LA crime blogger, Sean Hughes, right?”

  “Kind of a loudmouth who gets on the LAPD more than he should?” Jake took a sip of his lukewarm coffee, which did nothing to eliminate the bitter taste in his mouth thinking about Hughes. “Yeah, I know him.”

  “Him.” Kyra drilled her finger into the table. “You should respond through his blog, LA Confidential.”

  “Are you crazy? I hate that guy. He recently outed one of our undercover vice guys, Trevor Jansen.”

  “I heard about that, but the officer was done with his assignment, anyway. The point is, Sean gets eyes, he gets attention. Anyone in this city who’s a crime junkie, including all those people posting on Websleuths, is devouring Sean’s blog.”

  “You think he’d do it? Be a conduit for me?” Jake rubbed his chin. He hated the idea that he’d be working with the enemy, but Kyra had her finger on th
e right pulse. Sean Hughes got people talking.

  “Are you kidding? Sean would jump at the chance to post your reply to this killer. You should definitely suggest it to Castillo.”

  “All I have to do is tell Castillo it was your idea and he’ll rubber-stamp it.” Jake swept the baggie from the table and pushed back his chair.

  “Really?” She followed his lead and rose from her chair. “Honestly, I don’t know him that well, but Quinn does.”

  “There you have it. Quinn must have something on him to ensure Castillo’s support of Quinn’s favorite girl.” He shot a smile at her just in case she didn’t realize he was kidding.

  She crossed to his side of the table and punched his arm. “Watch it.”

  He rubbed his arm, and then he opened the door, gesturing her through. “After you...because I don’t trust you behind me.”

  As Jake walked to Castillo’s office, Kyra peeled off and ducked into the task force war room. Jake tapped on the open door, and Castillo waved him in without lifting his eyes from his computer screen.

  The captain tapped a few more keys with a flourish and then shoved his laptop to the side, lifting his brows at Jake. “How’d your meeting with Forensics go? Did the killer leave a print on the note or write it with some exotic rare ink?”

  “If that had happened, you would’ve heard about it by now.” Jake dropped into one of the chairs on the other side of Castillo’s desk. “Still, it is a break, and I think I need to answer him. Everyone thinks that’s a good idea.”

  “Everyone?” Castillo’s eyebrows went even higher until they reached his salt-and-pepper hairline.

  “Billy... Kyra. She’s the psychologist on this team, right?” Jake ran a finger beneath his collar to loosen it. “The more we can get the guy to communicate, the better the odds are that he’s going to trip up.”