“Great. Thank you.”
With that, he hung up. Jane held the phone out, stared at it in disbelief. The bastard didn’t even take her account information down. She flopped back on the bed and covered her eyes with a forearm.
“Leave it to me to find the one man who could make her toes curl and turn her life upside down at the same time.”
In the blink of an eye, or more aptly put, one too many margaritas and a man who wears ladies’ panties for a living, her secret world that she kept hidden for years, since the age of eight, had crashed down around her ears. Dread skittered up her spine and poked at the back of her head like an insistent ringing. She sat bolt upright and hopped to her feet. In a few strides, she was in her closet and shoving the small refrigerator aside.
Down on her knees, she pressed the wood floorboards and heard the familiar snick of the latch releasing. She pulled the boards back and revealed the small safe hidden inside, the same safe her Granny Pearl had left her. With a few twists left then right then left again, she tugged on the metal handle and opened the safe. A sense of relief washed over her as she reached inside and extracted the envelope with her name on it. Her real name. Cleopatra.
Peeking in the envelope, she checked to make certain everything was as it should be. After tucking the envelope in the waistband of her yoga pants, she shut and relocked the safe. She returned the floorboards to their proper place then slid the refrigerator into its normal spot. Getting to her feet, she located her small duffle bag. She shoved the envelope inside, and then tossed a few pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, and two sweaters inside. She went into her bedroom and opening the top drawer, grabbed a couple pair of panties, and socks. It didn’t matter that they matched the sweaters or shirts. She just wanted clothing. Just in case. In the bathroom, she located her travel toiletry bag, made sure it was all set and tucked that into the duffle as well.
Setting the bag next to her bedroom door, she straightened and wiped her hands against each other. “Ahh. That’s all done.” Somehow, the small act of having a travel bag ready to go made her feel much better.
She was making the bed when she noticed her stuffed teddy on the chaise. “I almost forgot you,” she murmured to the stuffed toy, kissed the top of its furry head then shoved it into the duffle.
Now everything is ready. “Just in case,” she reminded herself and turned toward the bathroom to clean up and get ready for work.
* * * *
At the knock on his office door, Cooper glanced up from his computer. Jack entered carrying a computer, and two cups of coffee in a holder. He stood, rounded his desk and alleviated Jack of one of the cups.
“Thanks for the help, man.” He dropped the laptop on the round meeting table and huffed out a breath.
“What’s this?” Coop asked ignoring Jack’s jibe.
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like a laptop, asshole, but whose?”
“Believe it or not, Lucky Lucy’s.”
“You mean tight-lipped Lucy. I can’t believe it.”
Jack shrugged and took a swallow of coffee. “It seems she decided cooperating with the police was in her best interest if she ever wanted to see the son-of-a-bitch who attacked her put behind bars. I paraphrased her words, but that’s pretty accurate.”
“And I’m certain you didn’t have to use any of that charm of yours to coax her out of her computer?” Cooper said with sarcasm.
His friend’s grin grew from ear to ear before he put the cup to his lips.
“Whatever works,” Coop said. “Just tell me you got her written permission to access her computer and her Love Online account.”
“Not only that,” Jack whipped out a piece of paper and handed it to him, “but I got her username and passwords so there would be no ‘legal hacking’ involved.”
Legal hacking? “Well, that’s one way of describing what I do, or did.”
“Whatever it takes. If it helps find a killer I’m all for it.”
He wondered if his friend understood the implication of his words? Did all cops think that? Did certain cops believe it was okay to cross the line if it meant justice in the end?
Cooper eyed Jack over the rim of his cup and shook his head. Nah. Jack knew the difference between right and wrong and wouldn’t cross that line. Others, however, would. He would have to follow up on Jane’s claim as soon as he followed this through.
“Let’s set this baby up and get her going. I’ve already started a profile based on what I know of Janette and Jane. I would like to see if Lucy’s is similar and that there is a pattern.”
Jack scratched his head. “I’m not so certain about how Jane fits in this. I mean, she isn’t a hooker. Is she?”
He scowled at Jack before he bent to plug in the computer. “No, she isn’t.”
“Then I don’t get the connection.”
Straightening, he answered. “The connection is that someone with access to the Love Online website hacked Jane’s computer and network. Janette had an account with the dating service as well. Who is to say that the women attacked weren’t hacked and then targeted?” He combed his fingers through his hair.
“Shit! I’ve been so caught up in trying to set up an online dating profile that I didn’t even remember to check Janette’s machine to see if the same malware was on her computer.” He pointed at his desk. “Grab it for me, will you.”
While Jack gathered up the laptop from his desk, he booted up Lucy’s computer and logged in with the credentials she provided them in writing. This time the first thing he did was run a virus scan on Lucy’s machine. When it came up empty, he did a check of the registry and yes, sure enough there was the little Loverspy program.
As he cleaned the machine, he instructed Jack on how to run the virus scan and then look for Loverspy.
Jack gave a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. There it is.”
Coop lifted one dark brow at his friend. “You doubted it?”
Jack shrugged. “Not really. I just never understood some of the techno-geek stuff you did.”
“You ain’t seen nothin’. Wait until we nail this bastard by playing his own game.” He stopped typing and looked up. “We need someone to talk with the owners of Love Online, get a sense if they are somehow involved.”
“Okay. I’ll talk with them. What’s the address?”
“California.”
“Hmm.” Jack leaned back in the chair he had pulled up. “That might be a tad far away, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice and fly out there if you’re willing to foot the bill.”
“Very funny,” he mumbled. “I was hoping you knew a detective out there in San Diego that you could contact to do the leg work. If not, I’m pretty sure I can call in a favor at the FBI. If I tell them about this Loverspy application being possibly used in a commission of a murder they will be all over this in a heartbeat.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have to call in a favor. I don’t know anyone in San Diego.”
Coop nodded and his stomach growled.
“When was the last time you ate?”
“Sometime last night,” he answered without looking up, his attention riveted on the contents displayed on the computer screen.
“Well, it’s after three in the afternoon. I’ll order sandwiches.”
He mumbled something unintelligible and kept taking notes. It amazed him that a woman who turned tricks on the street wanted to find love. It shouldn’t have. Most people want to find love with one person, to settle down, start a family. Wasn’t that what he wanted? Wasn’t that why he left the FBI and moved to a small town?
Yeah, but he hadn’t gone the route of signing up with a dating service, or trying speed dating, or even going out on a blind date. It worked for some folks but for him he preferred the art of exploration. He didn’t want to know a woman’s likes and dislikes before he even met her face-to-face. Half the fun of meeting someone was getting to know her, asking her all those questions like the last movie she had seen,
what she did to earn a living, her favorite foods, her favorite color, what outdoor activities she enjoyed, etcetera.
Lucy’s favorite color, he learned from the Love Online profile, was emerald green. Janette’s had been baby blue. Jane’s favorite color was pink. He knew that before he reviewed her profile. He knew because her business logo had pink in it, her bedroom was decorated with accents of pink like the flowers in the small dish on her nightstand, as well as the various candleholders that sat around the room. The winter scarf she wore was also a vibrant shade of fuchsia.
Now he was looking at the answers all three women had given for their favorite kind of date, the salary range of the person they were looking for, the education, the age range, and the qualities they were looking for in a man and the priority of those qualities. All three women noted the same characteristics. They wanted someone with a sense of humor, who could hold a conversation, who liked outdoor activities, a professional, not a blue-collar worker, and someone who reads more than the newspaper. He had to chuckle at that. Who doesn’t read more than a newspaper or magazine?
“Okay,” he said standing. “I think I know enough about our three women to create a profile that will attract the same guy.”
“I ordered the sandwiches.”
Cooper laughed even as his stomach growled. “Perfect.”
“So, do you want me to contact one of your FBI friends to help us out with the owners of Love Online? What should they ask them?”
“They should ask for a list of every man the attacked women were matched with. And a second list of all those men that the women actually went on a date. That will give us what we need to cross-reference the potentials.” He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down a name and number then handed it to Jack. “Tell Jimmy I said Hey.”
“Will do. I’ll give him a call from the car while I pick up lunch.” Jack saluted with the piece of paper and strolled out of the office.
“Okay,” he said to the empty room, “now what’s the plan?”
Cooper paced his office back and forth, running various ideas and scenarios through his mind. He thought of this situation as if it were any other cybercrime. “First, let the perp show himself. Make the first move. Then show him what he wants to see. In this case, a woman who wants to find love online.”
For that, he needed to check the messages sent back and forth between the suspect and the three women. He stomped to the table where the computers sat and went to the contact center in the Love Online application. The contact center allowed a client to contact a potential date without having to use their personal email. Safer…so they thought.
Sure enough, Bob asked the same questions of each woman. And he always chose the venue for the date.
“Holy shit!” What if the women had been waiting on the street corner for him to pick them up? Had he calculated his attacks that much? Had he picked the spot? To discount his thought, Cooper checked his files and the dates of each attack.
No. He hadn’t set up a date and then attacked. “Which means, you’re back to him hacking their computers and knowing where they would be at any given time.” He was right on this. He just knew it. “Fucking phishing software,” he growled and flopped into a chair.
A plan formed in his mind just as Jack walked in carrying a large paper bag.
“I got you now, you bastard.”
THIRTY-SIX
It was late by the time Jane finished working with Tony on the last minute details of the Halloween slash new contract celebration slash birthday party. Then she went home.
The party was tomorrow evening and every invitee had accepted. They were ready. All she had left to do was write the speech to give to the guests, business associates, and her partner. The most important was her speech or dedication to David. Afraid this might be the last time she was able to tell him how important he was to her, how much he meant to her. The speech had to be perfect.
Jane really hoped she could trust Cooper but since she hadn’t heard from him since yesterday, she was prepared, the duffle bag safely secured in the trunk of her car. Her 9-millimeter tucked in her purse. She prayed she did not have to bolt and go on the run, change her identity and start over. But she was prepared.
Sitting on her bed in her workout clothes, leaning against the stacked pillows, her legs stretched out in front of her, Jane held her pen to the pad of paper and contemplated the words. She wrote, scratched out, then wrote some more. Eventually, the words she longed to express came to her, floated into her mind and made it onto paper.
Satisfied, she set the tablet and pen away then snuggled under the covers. She would polish the words in the morning and have Tony type it up before the actual event. In a matter of minutes, her eyes closed and she fell fast asleep.
* * * *
He was on his way home when the call came in.
“Fuck!” Why couldn’t he have caught the guy before he struck again? Guilt washed over him and bile rose in the back of his throat as Cooper eased the door open and slid into the sterile room. On silent feet, he moved into the room and stopped at the foot of the hospital bed when the woman’s beaten and battered face came into view under the dim light.
Damn! He hated this part of his job. He hated questioning the innocent victim. It did not matter to him that the woman lying beneath the white blanket with an IV tube sticking out of her scratched and bruised hand was a hooker, that she sold her body for money. She had still been someone else’s prey, the latest target for the work of the Street Corner Rapist.
The fucker had done such a number on her the features of her face were practically unrecognizable beneath all the purple and blue. Her eyes were so swollen he could barely make out their aquamarine color as her eyelids fluttered open into tiny slits. A reddened cut held together with black stitches ran from one corner of her enlarged lips to a dimple. At least he hoped it was a dimple. Brown hair still matted with blood lay across her forehead. His fingers itched to reach out and tuck the strands away from her face.
“Officer?” The woman’s slurred, barely audible voice pulled his mind back to his job. She must have seen the badge clipped to his belt.
Cooper smiled and took a couple of steps closer to the side of the bed so she didn’t have to strain to see him. “Coop. Call me Coop.”
When she attempted to smile, she cringed in pain.
“Are you okay? Can I do something for you? Do you want me to get a doctor?”
She shook her head.
“I hate to bother you while you’re resting and healing, but I would really like to catch the guy that did this. I need your help, whatever information you can give me. Is it okay if I ask you a few questions?”
Her slitted eyes closed for a second as her head bobbed up and down on the pillow. Then her eyes fluttered open as much as they could against the black and purple swelling.
Coop reached behind his back, tugged out a notebook and pen from his back pocket, opened it. He regarded the woman in the bed before speaking again. Her name was Jasmine Creed. She was only twenty-three years old and, according to her friends on the street, she attended day classes at the local community college working on a degree in accounting. The girl had plans and it was his job to make certain she lived to see them through. He could do that if he caught the bastard that beat her to within an inch of her life.
His jaw muscle clenched and his teeth ground together. He forced himself to suck in a deep breath and let it out. When he glanced up, he saw Jasmine watching him and he grinned. “If you get tired just tell me to stop and we will, okay?”
“Okay,” she mumbled through puffy lips.
“Were you working when you were attacked?”
Jasmine turned her head, averting her gaze.
“Jasmine.” She refused to look at him. Coop took a step closer and lowered his voice. “Jasmine, look at me. I don’t care what you do for a living. I only care about catching the man who beat you. Please. I don’t judge you. I want to help.”
Her head shifte
d and eased back so her aquamarine eyes were more visible to him when she answered. “I was on the corner just waiting.”
“Were you waiting for a man? Was he a regular?”
“N-no.”
“Had you ever seen him before?”
She gave a slight shake of her head.
“Did he address you, or ask you for anything before he attacked you?”
Again, she shook her head. “He came up behind.” She inhaled through her nose then exhaled slowly through her cut lips. “Dragged me. Alley.”
Cooper bobbed his head. He understood. “He approached you from behind, grabbed and dragged you into the alley. Is that correct?”
She nodded.
“Did you get a good look at him? Can you describe him?”
Jasmine closed her eyes as if conjuring up the image of her attacker, then opened them again. “Tall.”
“Tall like me?”
“Shorter.”
“Shorter than me. About here?” He indicated a height with his hand held at his eyes.
“Shorter.”
“How about this high?” This time he held his hand at his chin.
“Yes.”
“Good. Very good.” He stood six feet, two inches. That would make the attacker somewhere around five feet, ten or eleven inches.
“Could you see anything else? Maybe the color of his eyes? Or his hair?”
Jasmine wet her lips with her tongue.
“Can I get you a drink of water?”
“Please.”
He went to the side table, poured, slid a straw into the cup, then held it to her lips. With his hand under the pillow, he eased her up. She took three long swallows then flopped back as if out of breath. Cooper set the pillow and her back to the bed and the glass on the tray of the table.
“Thank you.” She attempted a grin but again the stitches pulled at her mouth and she bit back a yelp.
Cooper had to hand it to Jasmine. She was one tough cookie.
“Too dark to see eyes.”
Phish NET Stalkings Page 27