Kiss Me, Kill Me lk-2

by Allison Brennan

  He shook his head. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

  “You were staring at me.”

  “I was staring into space and you’re in the way.” He grinned and leaned forward. “You’re much prettier than empty space.”

  “I think there’s a compliment in there somewhere,” Lucy said.

  His computer beeped. He pulled up a message from Jayne Morgan, the computer magician at RCK. She could pull information out of thin air, or so it seemed.

  He read the note and smiled. “Jayne came through. We got the name on that 917 number Kirsten has been calling. Jessica Bell.”

  “Any idea who she is?”

  “No, just the name and her address.”

  “That’s a plus. New York City?”

  “Yes.” He typed it into his computer. Up popped a map. “Three blocks from Columbia University.”

  “Is she a student?” Lucy asked. “Maybe Kirsten was talking to her about going to school there.”

  “She was only applying to California colleges,” Sean said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Her mother had a copy of all her applications. And I saw the brochures in her room.”

  “Have you been able to retrieve her deleted emails?”

  “Not yet. The program is still running, but the older they are the less likely I’ll be able to get them. I’m going to run a search on Jessica Bell at this address and see if I can learn anything more. Maybe Kirsten went to New York to visit this Jessica Bell, and got sick.”

  “And didn’t have Jessica call her mother?” Lucy shook her head.

  “Their relationship was rocky. Kirsten emailed Trey, not her mother, to let them know she was okay.”

  “She was anything but okay.”

  Sean caught Lucy’s eye. “She could have been high when she wrote that.”

  “At eight in the morning?”

  “Maybe left over from the night before.”

  “I’ve been analyzing the message she sent,” Lucy said. “Sick can mean any number of things-being hungover, food poisoning, the flu-but she also says that she can’t walk.”

  “You think she broke her leg?”

  “If that’s the case, wouldn’t your search of the hospitals have come up with something?”

  “Not if she refused to give her name, or used a false identity.”

  “If she didn’t give her name, wouldn’t they have recognized her from the photo on the missing persons flyer?”

  “I got this case yesterday morning. Less than forty-eight hours ago. I don’t think the hospitals have someone sitting on the emails and fax machines twenty-four/seven getting ready to distribute photos to all staff. Besides, we only sent out beyond a hundred miles when I found out about New York.”

  Lucy glanced down.

  “I didn’t mean to sound like that,” Sean said. “It’s just that in my experience missing teenagers are a lower priority. They probably posted her photo on a board and if someone recognizes her, they’ll contact the Woodbridge Police Department, or RCK. But she’s been missing since Friday, and the last time she used her phone was late Saturday night. Let’s assume she got hurt, broke her leg or something. Went to the hospital. If she tried to use her insurance, her name would be in the system, and as a minor they would have contacted her mother, or protective services.”

  “You’re right.”

  Lucy didn’t say anything more, and Sean mentally hit himself. She had been so defeated this morning, thinking she wasn’t good enough for the FBI, and here he’d shot down one of her theories.

  He let it sit for a minute, then said, “What if she didn’t go to the hospital?”

  Lucy either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him.

  “Lucy, what is it?”

  “It’s not important. You’re right, she was probably high.”

  “Stop.”

  She glared at him. “What?”

  “You’re doing it again. I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  “Why? It’s really just a way-out-there idea. You should probably talk to Kate. I bet she’ll have a reasonable theory.”

  “If I wanted to bring Kate into the investigation, I would have done it already, but right now this isn’t a federal case, and she can’t help me.”

  Lucy was torn, he could see it. He’d jabbed her where it hurt, because she didn’t want to feel like a failure. He needed her on her game, focused on finding Kirsten, and the only way to get there was to push her hard enough for her to realize that without her, they’d be two steps behind.

  “I think she’s in hiding,” Lucy finally said. “I think she’s sick-either from drugs or the flu-but she’s hiding from someone. See?” She slid over a handwritten sheet where she’d copied down phrases from Kirsten’s email, rewording a couple but keeping them in context, removing all the extra words and unintelligible thoughts, and reorganizing the main ideas into groups under two headings.

  Personal Facts

  I’ve been sick

  I can’t walk right now

  No way of getting home

  Lost my phone

  Plenty of money

  In New York (view of bridge?)

  Want to play softball, now can’t

  Friend

  Her message was wrong

  Who would hurt her?

  They might know me

  Scared (to stay or go)

  I already miss her

  The paper doesn’t explain

  Sean read the list twice, and saw exactly what Lucy did. “Her friend is dead.”

  She nodded. “Could it be Jessica Bell?”

  Sean narrowed his search to media sites. “If it was her, her death hasn’t been reported, at least not with her name.”

  “Or maybe her body hasn’t been found. What if Kirsten saw something? Or she went to meet her friend and she was already dead? We don’t even know why she was going to New York. Unless-”

  Lucy turned to her laptop and started typing rapidly.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Just checking something.”

  Sean resisted the urge to get up and look over her shoulder. He continued to narrow his search parameters on Jessica Bell by including Columbia University in the mix. He quickly confirmed that she was a student.

  “That’s it,” Lucy said. “Look.” She turned her laptop to face him.

  Lucy had brought up Kirsten’s page on Facebook, and showed all her “friends.”

  Jessica Bell was among them.

  “See her?” Lucy said.

  Sean nodded and reached over to click on Jessica’s profile, to get a clearer image of the blonde, but Lucy slapped his hand. “Wait a minute, there’s more.” She switched tabs, and there was Kirsten’s Party Girl page. “Do you see her network of friends at the bottom?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now click on the girl named ‘Jenna.’ ”

  Sean did as Lucy said, and a larger picture came up. “It’s Jessica.”

  “Exactly. That’s why Kirsten went to New York-to visit Jessica-and I suspect it had something to do with activities related to the Party Girl site. It’s no coincidence.”

  Sean looked at Lucy’s list of Kirsten’s key phrases. “She’s scared because something happened to Jessica, and she’s hiding. Or maybe she’s hiding out with Jessica. If the two of them are in trouble, they might think it’s better to lay low for a while.”

  “Especially if they were injured or attacked. But, from the message, it seems that Jessica is the one who’s missing. And if that’s the case, who’s Kirsten staying with?”

  “Maybe at Jessica’s apartment.”

  “Could be. She’s scared, but sounds like she doesn’t want to leave. She says it’s pretty and there’s a view of a bridge. Is there a bridge near Jessica’s apartment?”

  “There are lots of bridges in New York,” he said. “That’s what Google Earth is for.” He zeroed in on Jessica’s address. “She wouldn’t be able to see any bridge from that location. So i
f Kirsten’s not at Jessica’s, who’s helping her?”

  “Maybe someone else on her friend list.” Lucy pulled out a sheet where she’d noted all the friends on Kirsten’s Facebook and Party Girl profiles.

  “That’s a lot of people to go through, but we can get started tonight. Before we go to New York.”

  “You’re going to New York?”

  “We are going to New York,” Sean said. “You and me. That’s where Kirsten is, and Trey is likely there by now if he didn’t drown in this storm.”

  “You really want me to go?”

  “I won’t go without you,” he said.

  “Let’s get back to work.” Lucy stretched her back, then turned the laptop back to face herself. Sean rose and walked behind her chair. He put his hands on her shoulders and used his thumbs on her muscles. “You’re really tense. You’ve been working too long without a break.” He switched to his palms and wondered how much of her tightness was from the FBI letter and how much was from their work today.

  “Umm,” she moaned and closed her eyes, her head tilting back as she relaxed, revealing her long, elegant, smooth neck. “Don’t stop.”

  Lucy had no idea how sexy she looked in this position. Her lips parted a fraction, and he swallowed. He wanted to make love to her right here, right now, on his desk. Or the floor. Or he’d carry her to his bed-he didn’t really care where they were.

  He leaned over and kissed her, upside down. Then he continued rubbing her upper back and arms.

  “What was that for?”

  “I was compelled to kiss you. You must have cast a spell over me. I’m completely enchanted, Princess.”

  “That’s right,” she teased with a sly smile, “so keep working on those muscles, Prince Charming, and I might share another kiss.”

  “All right, if you insist.” Her hair hung down the back of the chair in black waves. Her cheeks were high and well formed, her nose long and narrow, her skin with just a hint of brown, a light blend of her Irish-Cuban heritage. He stared at the daisy that rested in the dip of her neck and was taken aback at the powerful emotions hitting him. He’d known Lucy was special from the beginning, but at this moment, he felt something else: a complex need to love and protect her, to support her now and later, to give her everything he could-not material objects, but his real self.

  He was far from perfect. Smart? Oh, yeah, he was a damn genius, if anyone looked at his IQ. Sometimes too smart, and he had a past that someone who liked him might charitably call “colorful.” But Sean was still the same person he’d always been, the one with the overwhelming need to right wrongs, even if that meant breaking the law. He was no vigilante, not by a long shot, but he could not tolerate bullies. They made him see red, and that had gotten him into hot water many times.

  Lucy needed to know everything about him, but it wasn’t as if he could just sit her down and give her a chronological history of his life, the good, the bad, and the illegal. His big brother Duke had gotten him out of trouble more times than he could count, but Duke didn’t know everything. And even now, Sean didn’t regret his past. If he hadn’t turned the tables on that pedophile professor at Stanford, how many other little girls would the man have molested before he was caught?

  Sometimes, you had to do the right thing even when it got you in trouble.

  Lucy looked peaceful, an expression he hadn’t seen on her much lately. He loved that he was able to give her that momentary peace, that she could relax with him, that he made her laugh and smile.

  He kissed her again; he couldn’t resist.

  “Your hands are amazing,” she said, obviously enjoying the shoulder massage.

  “I know.”

  “The Rogan ego speaks.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He turned her chair to face him.

  She opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Done so soon?”

  “I haven’t gotten started yet.” Putting his hands on the armrests on either side of her, he leaned over and kissed her, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth. Her hands went up to the back of his neck, her long fingers in his hair.

  I’ve missed you.

  “What?” she murmured faintly.

  Had he spoken out loud? Maybe he had. He pulled his lips reluctantly from hers. “I’ve missed being with you. I was spoiled when you stayed here. Ten days. I liked sliding between the sheets and smelling you even after you went back home, but even Rogans have to wash their sheets.”

  It was a joke, at least the last part, but she didn’t smile.

  “What?” He kissed her. “Did I say something?”

  She shook her head and pulled his lips back to hers. He couldn’t read Lucy the way he read other people, yet her depth and complexity had drawn him in from the beginning.

  “Excuse me,” a voice came from the doorway.

  Lucy jumped, her body instantly tense, and Sean stood, taking one of Lucy’s hands into his.

  Patrick stood in the doorway, a dark cloud over his face. Lucy saw it, and she looked embarrassed.

  That angered Sean. He wasn’t angry at Lucy, but he was furious with Patrick for sounding so self-righteous in his tone, for making Lucy uncomfortable. What he and Lucy shared should make her happy, but Patrick was doing everything he could to put a wedge between them, however subtle. Their conversation yesterday had revealed the ugly truth, and if Patrick thought Sean was backing down he was an idiot.

  “I have the preliminary background checks done on Trey Danielson and his family, and the server host information from the Party Girl website.”

  “Anything interesting?” Sean asked. Lucy tried to extract her hand, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Danielson is an only child. His father is a high-ranking consultant for the Congressional House Committee on Appropriations. His mother works for the Library of Congress. They’ve been married for twenty-six years. Danielson has an older brother, career Army, deployed in Afghanistan, rank first lieutenant. Twenty-four years, went through the ROTC program at University of Virginia. Nothing pops on any of them, but with the dad’s position I need to be cautious so I don’t trip any invisible wires the FBI might have on him. So far I haven’t found anything on the kids, either, at least in official records. Trey has a 2005 Ford Ranger registered in his name. I sent you the license, make, and model.”

  Patrick continued. “As far as the server that hosts the Party Girl site, it’s routed through several different servers, but I traced it to New York City. There’s a duplicate site in Europe.”

  “New York?” Yet another connection. “Do you have an address?”

  “Just the provider, but that means nothing. It’s just an office. I don’t know where the servers are, and the site itself has full privacy protections, using the provider as the contact and address.”

  “That’s all I need,” Sean said. “Once I know the host I can track down who pays the bills.”

  “Don’t you dare hack into the database,” Patrick said.

  Sean didn’t like Patrick’s tone. “I have no intention of hacking into any place. I have plenty of legal ways to get the information we need, especially since Lucy and I are going to New York in the morning.”

  Patrick looked at Lucy, then said to Sean, “You’re bringing my sister? I’m your partner.”

  Sean realized he’d handled this poorly, but Patrick had overstepped with the hacking comment.

  “Kirsten is a teenager who may need help when we find her. We don’t know what’s been going on with her, but she’s more apt to trust Lucy than a strange man.”

  “Sounds good,” Patrick said sarcastically.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “I thought we were equal partners. But if you’re calling the shots, fine. I’ll hold down the fort here.”

  Lucy stood. “It’s not like that, Patrick.”

  “It’s not like what?”

  “Hold it,” Sean said. He needed to defuse the situation. “You want to go to New York, go right ahead, but Lucy is the one who figured out that
Kirsten and Jessica Bell-the 917 number she had been calling for several months and the last call she made-are both on the Party Girl site. She understands how these things work better than either of us. And Kirsten is in serious trouble.”

  “Then you should bring in the police.”

  “I will, when we have more than a cryptic message to go on. What can the police do?”

  “Put out a BOLO? Talk to their informants? Work the case?”

  “For a teenager who has been branded a habitual runaway?” Sean shook his head. “When I have something to turn over, I will. I’m not a maverick.”

  “Really?”

  Lucy said, “Patrick, I think that Kirsten got into something she can’t get out of, and she’s confused and scared and doesn’t have anyone to turn to. When we find her, we’ll have the answers. And get her the necessary help. She’s only seventeen. I doubt she considered the repercussions of what she was doing on the Party Girl site.”

  “It was pretty clear from the photographs,” he snapped.

  “You think that because she made a bad decision she deserves what she gets?” Sean asked.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  Patrick didn’t answer, but he looked torn. Sean wasn’t about to cut him any slack, however.

  “What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Lucy asked Sean.

  “Early. I’d fly, but in this weather it’s probably best we drive.” He looked at Patrick. “Unless you want to go.”

  Patrick shook his head.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven,” Sean told Lucy. “I should take you home now; it’s getting late.”

  Lucy nodded. “Thanks, but I’d like Patrick to drive me.” She gave Sean a look that he thought held something secret, but he couldn’t figure it out. “Okay, Patrick?”

  Her big brother shrugged. “I’ll get my keys.” He left.

  “Luce, what’s wrong? Did I do or say something-”

  She cut Sean off. “No, of course not.” She kissed him. It was a peck, nothing more, as if she were afraid Patrick would walk in again. “I want to talk to my brother, and it’s better if it’s just him and me.”

  Sean frowned and grabbed her hands. “Why are you so tense when Patrick is around?”