by Karen Rose
Monday, February 22, 10:00 p.m.
Harvey Farmer stopped his car a block behind Webster’s. The detectives had split up, so he and Dell had as well. Dell was following Phelps. Harvey wasn’t sure that was always such a good idea. The boy had a hair-trigger temper. He hoped his surviving son had grown enough sense not to kill Phelps before they had the information to ruin them.
Harvey wanted Phelps ruined, then dead. No martyred cops on my watch.
He’d followed Webster from the station to the crime scene and now here, the home of the woman who’d been searching the scene for her keys, which she had not found. He wondered how she fit. It was the second time today he’d seen her with Webster.
He hadn’t noticed Webster with any women and he’d been watching him for a long time. He coached pee-wee basketball on Saturdays and on Sundays had dinner with his cop cousin. Mondays he went to Sal’s, and Tuesdays he hit his AA meeting downtown.
That Webster would have a woman made Harvey clench his teeth. His son had planned to raise a family, but VJ would never get that chance. Webster and Phelps had stolen one son’s life. Sent Dell into a depression that had the boy half crazy.
Me, too. He hadn’t had decent sleep in a year. But it would be worth it. Webster hadn’t mistepped, but he would. He had before. It was a matter of time.
He hid his face as a black SUV slid by. He didn’t want any notice until he was ready.
Monday, February 22, 10:00 p.m.
Noah had listened as she’d talked about the women she’d known as Gwenivere and Desiree and now he better understood the victims, and Eve. They weren’t so different, he and Eve. But she wasn’t ready to hear that. Yet.
“Thank you. Comparing the victims’ attraction to the virtual world to an addiction puts it in terms I can better understand,” he said and she sighed, just a little.
“When we can’t meet our needs with what we possess, some of us look for escape, rather than try to change what’s keeping us from what we crave. Change is hard.”
“And addiction is a means, or perhaps the consequence of escape,” he said.
“True. People get sucked in to Shadowland because what they find there meets their needs. Excitement. Attention. Love. Escape from a real world they can’t deal with.” She shrugged. “A lot of the same reasons people drink or do drugs.”
There was so much more he wanted to hear her tell him. But it was late and she was pulling on her gloves. “How will you get in without your keys?”
“My friend Callie has a set. I texted her to bring them over. She should only be a few minutes, so you can go if you want. I’ll be fine.”
Noah bit back his impatience. “Eve, even if Samantha Altman wasn’t in your study, you are connected to two dead women. How do you know you’re not a target?”
“I guess I don’t,” she said, but she clearly didn’t believe she was.
“That doesn’t seem to worry you as much as it should.”
She drummed her fingers on her knee. “Well, I’ve been thinking.”
“Why am I not surprised?” he asked and she smiled wryly.
“Just listen. Let’s assume he met all three victims in Shadowland. He chats them up. Sometimes people forget they’re playing a role. They get caught up and become themselves again. Christy did when she came to Façades. She probably did with him, too. He finds where they live, landmarks around their house where people hang out. You hear of kids being targeted online like this, but adults forget they’re vulnerable, too.”
“Okay. He finds out where they live or he lures them to a meeting place.”
“Exactly. ‘You like sunsets, I like sunsets. You like long walks on a snowy day, me, too. We have so much in common, let’s meet IRL.’ ”
“IRL?”
“In real life. So they meet and the women either take him home or he follows them. He could be local or he could be hitting women all over the country.”
“That makes me feel better,” Noah said sarcastically and her dark eyes flashed.
“I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m trying to keep from having another woman’s blood on my hands.”
“So you do believe your study is involved.”
“Only because that’s why Christy was in Shadowland to begin with. Martha was there before I started my study and Samantha wasn’t in my study at all. The point is, he’s probably making contact with them. I’m not planning to meet anyone I meet online, so I’m safe. So don’t worry. You worry too much.”
“So do you, Greer the Guardian,” he said softly and her cheeks heated prettily.
He wished he could touch, but knew she’d pull away. Last night he’d been prepared to walk away, for her own good. Now… this was a sign too bold to ignore.
They were at a crossroads, he and Eve. She meant to walk on alone. He didn’t. But he wouldn’t push tonight. She’d said no, after all.
“Touché.” She got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home. You can go. I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be stup—” He caught himself. “Stubborn,” he amended, then frowned when a shadow moved across a third-floor lighted window. “Do you have a roommate?”
She looked up at the window, worried. “No. If I did, I’d have knocked on the door.”
“Then come, but stay downstairs.” He ran up the stairs, tried the doorknob, hand on his gun, stepping back when the door opened. A man stood, wearing nothing but faded jeans and a towel around his neck. Steel-gray eyes flicked to Noah’s gun, then back up.
“Can I help you?” he asked calmly, but his fists gripped the ends of his towel.
I’m not available, she’d said. Now Noah saw why. People called Jack handsome. Jack had nothin’ on this guy, he thought bitterly. “Who are you? How did you get in?”
The man’s perfect jaw clenched. “I’m a friend of the woman who lives here.”
I’ll just bet you are. “Do us both a favor and don’t move.” Noah took another step back, not taking his eyes from the man. “Eve,” he called loudly. “Come up, please.”
She took the stairs at a fast jog, then paused when she reached her landing. “Oh my God. David?” She flew past Noah, throwing her arms around Mr. Perfect, who spun her around. When he set her on her feet, it was like Noah wasn’t there.
“Let me look at you,” David said and tipped her chin up. “Wow. You look good, kid. Really good. You can barely see…” He trailed off when her smile dimmed. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I had a hell of a plastic surgeon.” Her smile returned. “Why are you here?”
“And how did you get in?” Noah repeated carefully.
Eve frowned up at David. “Yeah. How did you get in?”
David frowned back. “You left your door unlocked. Again.”
She shook her head, her face gone pale. “No. I didn’t. I don’t do that anymore. Ever.”
“It was open when I got here. You have to be more careful, Evie.”
“You did leave in a hurry,” Noah said quietly.
“But I always lock my door. Oh my God. My computer—”
“Is still here,” David said calmly and Eve drew a deep breath of relief.
“So what are you doing here?” Noah asked.
David lifted his brows. “Fixing her roof. Who are you again?”
“This is Detective Webster,” she said, still anxious. “Detective, this is my old friend from Chicago, David Hunter.”
Noah shook his hand, even though he didn’t want to. “You came all the way from Chicago to fix her roof?” he asked, annoyed that he sounded so… annoyed.
“She left me a message asking how she could do it herself. I had a few days off and didn’t want her climbing the roof. Look, I’m freezing. Why don’t you come in?”
“It’s okay. I’ve got to get back. Can I talk to Eve for a minute, privately?” He waited until the door was closed. “Does he come often to do home repairs?”
“He’s never visited before.” Eve looked at her door thoughtfully. �
�I think there’s more to it, but I’ll take a fixed roof for now. It’s been a long day. Go home. I’m fine here.”
He could see that. “You have my cell. And if you go back into Shadowland—”
“Greer will not approach the avatar that was talking to Christy’s Gwenivere last night, and I will call you right away. Nor will I make any dates with avatars. I got it. I’m fine.”
“All right.” He was halfway to street level when she called his name. She looked over the rail, her dark eyes now troubled.
“I’m not with David. It changes nothing, but I didn’t want you to think I’d lied to you.”
He nodded hard. “I’ll be in touch. Lock your door.”
Monday, February 22, 10:20 p.m.
David was on her land line when she got back. “A cop brought her home.” He gave her a stern look. “It’s Ethan.”
She winced. “Ooh. I forgot to call him back.”
“Yeah. You did.” He handed her the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Do you know how worried I’ve been?” Ethan’s words were thundered in a whisper. Which meant he still hadn’t told Dana. At least there was that.
“I’m sorry. Ethan, I just finished with the police and I haven’t eaten all day. Can I call you in a little while? I’m going to need some advice on hacking anyway.”
Ethan’s sigh was weary. “Call my cell, not the house phone. All the kids are in bed.”
David was buttoning his shirt when she hung up, his eyes narrowed. “I’ll make you dinner while you tell me what the hell is going on.”
The sight of David in a kitchen brought back memories. “You used to cook for me.”
He stilled, then resumed his search of her fridge. “While we waited for Dana to come home from the bus station,” he said quietly.
Eve’s guardian had picked up many a terrified woman from the bus station in the middle of the night, risking the ire of the abusive husbands that had driven them to flee. David had worried about Dana all the time, but that hadn’t stopped him from supporting her efforts. Anything that needed doing around their shelter, David had attended to.
He’d been in love with Dana. Probably still was. To Eve’s knowledge he’d never said a word. And then Ethan had come along and Dana had fallen like a rock. It had to be hard for David, watching Dana’s family grow.
He set peppers and onions on a cutting board. “Where are your knives?”
“On that top shelf in the lockbox. Key’s taped to the bottom of the box.”
He looked over his shoulder, concerned. “You still dreaming?”
She shrugged, not wanting to talk about that. “Now and then. How did you know to call Ethan?”
“I was scared shitless. I did a redial on your phone and who should answer but Ethan, totally frantic. You were sitting in a police car and some woman was dead.”
“I should have called him.”
“Yeah, you should have. But I guess you were a little busy.”
Eve watched David dice vegetables faster than a chef. “Why are you here? Really?”
“Dana used to climb on the roof. I didn’t want you doing the same and breaking your fool neck. I dumped all the water out of your pots, by the way. They were overflowing.”
“Thanks. For emptying my pots and for dropping everything to come out and help me. But a phone call would have sufficed. I probably wouldn’t have gone on the roof.”
“I had a few days off. Thought I’d get away. I’ll start patching tomorrow.”
Her eyes fell on the calendar on her fridge, with the big circle around Thursday. “Dana’s baby shower is Thursday night,” she said quietly. “At your mom’s house.”
His wide shoulders sagged and she knew she was right. Dana’s family and David’s were close. Major holidays and special occasions were spent together. To Eve’s knowledge Dana had no clue how David had felt all these years. It must have been torture for him.
“So,” she said briskly, “what do you know about a game called Shadowland?”
He slid the vegetables into a skillet. “Sometimes you wanna go where no one knows your name,” he said, then turned to her with a grin that didn’t reach his eyes.
She was genuinely shocked. “You play?”
“Here and there, between calls at the firehouse. It passes the time.”
“Well then, David, dear, do I have a story for you.”
Chapter Eight
Monday, February 22, 10:45 p.m.
Micki and Jack were in Abbott’s office when Noah got back. Jack and Micki were reviewing case notes and Abbott was absorbed in his computer screen. “What’s with Abbott?”
“He’s playing the game,” Jack said. “Shadowland sucked him in.”
“I am not sucked in,” Abbott retorted. “I am investigating Ninth Circle.”
On Abbott’s screen a male avatar mingled. “That’s you?” Noah asked
“It is. I’ll never attract a looker like Eve’s Greer, although that’s probably for the best. My wife wouldn’t like that too much.”
“Where did you get the avatar?” Noah asked.
“Bought it from Pandora’s website in the game.”
Noah blinked. “You? I thought you were clueless.”
“I wanted Eve to think so. But everything she told us was spot on. Our killer doesn’t have to have a lot of technical know-how. It is an amazing place, though.”
Shaking his head, Noah went back to the table. “That’s too weird,” he murmured.
“I know,” Micki whispered. “I think he’s been playing dumb all these years, making me explain things. I’ve got his number now.”
“I can hear well, too,” Abbott called and Micki rolled her eyes.
“What do we know?” Noah asked.
“We found the snake,” Jack said with a grimace. “What was left of it.”
“Timber rattler,” Micki said. “Outside in the snow. The head had been shot off.”
“I thought the timber rattler was endangered,” Noah said.
“It’s threatened,” Micki said. “Rarely found this time of year. They hibernate in the wild. I’m thinking this was likely a specimen. We’re making calls to the zoos and universities. So far nobody’s missing one, but hopefully we’ll be able to track it down.”
“But why?” Noah pressed. “Everything else was the same, except the snake bite.”
“Because he’s fucking nuts?” Jack asked.
“Fucking nuts and knows forensics,” Micki said. “So far no prints, hairs, nothing.”
The phone rang and the three of them went silent when Abbott picked up.
“Olivia,” he said, then sighed as he listened. “They got the Siren Song employee list,” he said when he hung up. “Cassandra Lee was cooperative when she heard the news.”
Noah sighed. “Christy and Samantha weren’t on the list, were they?”
“No. Web, get the list of participants in Eve’s study and figure out how Samantha Altman links. Micki, do we have anything from Martha’s hard drive?”
“Not yet,” she admitted. “Whoever wiped it, did good. It’s like she never used it.”
Noah went still. “Mick, do you have those photos of Martha’s messy apartment?”
“In my folder.” Micki spread the photos on the table.
“Dammit. She had two monitors on her desk before,” Noah said, tapping one of the photos. “We only found one. And her computer in the picture is high end. We took a cheap one. I wondered why a consultant would have such a cheap PC.”
Micki scowled. “I’ve wasted time searching the hard drive of a decoy computer.”
“This guy is very good,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Very smart.”
“He took Martha’s computer because he knew we’d find evidence of Shadowland on her hard drive and in her Internet cache,” Micki said. “We’d be able to follow her movements and maybe even who she talked to in the World.”
Abbott looked grim. “Then it’s important. We need access to Martha’s and
Christy’s game files. Someone altered their avatars. We find out who, we find our man.”
“You want to hack or ask to be admitted through the front door?” she asked.
“Front door,” Abbott said. “Jack, kick up the search for the panty pervert, Taylor Kobrecki. Right now he’s the closest thing we have to a suspect. Noah, get a list of Eve’s test subjects and everyone meet back here at 8:00 a.m.”
Monday, February 22, 11:15 p.m.
“You can go home, you know,” Eve said to Callie, who’d arrived with Eve’s keys shortly after Noah Webster had departed. “David’s back from the corner store.”
“Yes, he is.” Callie watched David whipping a cream sauce with a wire whisk. “I’m hoping when he finishes dinner he does something that makes him hot and sweaty.”
Eve sighed. Women everywhere had the same reaction to David. She might have, too, had they met under different circumstances. Instead David had been a man she’d learned to trust when her world had been a very dark and scary place.
“Leave him alone. I want my dinner.”
“Fine. So why did he just bring you two disposable cell phones?”
“He was going out for heavy cream for his sauce anyway. Mine had curdled.”
“Don’t be a smartass. I got you a lawyer. The least you can do is give me a hint.”
“I appreciate you sending Matt, and he did a great job, but I don’t want to put you in a bad position. The less you know, the better for you. Just go home. Please?”
“You’re not making me feel better and I’m not going home. At least let me help.”
“You didn’t cause this, Cal. You shouldn’t have to be involved.”
“You didn’t cause this either. You didn’t force these women to play your game.”
Eve thought of Christy Lewis, who’d never heard of role play games before she’d seen their ad for test subjects in the local paper. “Yeah, Cal, I kind of did.”
“Good God. Who taught you to shoulder the burden of every person you meet?”
“I know who,” David said dryly from the kitchen. “You can’t fight it, Callie. It was hardwired into her by one of the best.”