by Cat Connor
“Good food, great company.” Lee said and raised his wine glass, “Wine’s not bad, either.”
“I’m going to leave you two to your bonding. I’m tired.” I pushed my chair back as I rose.
“ ’Night, Ellie, sleep well.” Lee said, “We’ll get this prick.”
“Damn right we will.”
Mac stood and said, “I’ll be up later, Ellie.” He gave me one of those unsure looks. I could see his mind working and felt his need to ask before he even vocalized the words, “You okay?”
“I’m fine, babe. Tired is all.”
“Headache?”
“Hardly worth mentioning.”
He kissed me lightly.
“I might not be that tired.”
Mac grinned and kissed me again. Lee barfed. Then I remembered something. “Lee, don’t forget to check the computer, it was running some comparisons when we left earlier.”
He nodded. “Will do.”
On my way to bed, I dropped into the office. The screensaver was on – a black background with a swarm of Monarch butterflies. I searched my jacket for a card I’d left in my pocket in Richmond. I wanted to call Julie’s husband. I needed to ask why she’d joined the Butterfly Foundation.
The phone rang at least ten times. I was on the verge of hanging up with each additional ring when he answered.
“It’s Special Agent Conway, Mr. Trevalli. I hope it’s not too late to call?”
“Just watching some TV. Do you have news?”
I heard the hope in his voice and somehow that made my questions harder to ask.
“I’m afraid not. I have a question.”
He sighed and said, “Go ahead.”
“Why did Julie join the Butterfly Foundation?”
“What do you mean?”
I rephrased. “I met Dakota and he seems a little young to benefit from the chat rooms. So I’m wondering why Julie joined?”
“She told me about the forums, so I guess she joined for support. You know, be around other moms with mental illnesses.”
That made sense. We had built adult forums to provide support and advice for parents, but there were no adult chat rooms.
“To your knowledge did she ever use the chat rooms?”
“No, she only ever talked about the forums.”
“You know of anyone in particular she talked with?”
“Yeah. Some woman with a little girl about Dakota’s age.”
“Remember a name?” It was getting easier as I went and Trevalli warmed up.
“No, sorry. But I think they emailed each other. I can check.”
I heard a computer fire up then he said, “Do you think this has something to do with her death?”
Guarded, I replied, “Due to the nature of this case I am exploring all possible avenues.”
“I have it,” he said. “SassySelena.”
“Any other names?” An alarm bell sounded in my head. It was the second time I had come across the name Selena since the investigation began. Could the missing Canadian from a traffic crash be this Selena? Coincidence? Who said there are no coincidences?
“No, Julie just called her Selena.”
“Thank you, Mr. Trevalli. You’ve been a great help.”
Before I could add anything or ask for the emails and address, he interrupted, “I can forward the emails to you.”
“Excellent. Do you have my email address?”
“Yes, it’s on the card you gave me.”
“If you could send those as soon as possible I’ll go through them and see if anything jumps up and bites me.”
“I’ll do it now.” He paused with intent, or at least I sensed intent. “Thank you for trying, Agent Conway.”
“You’re welcome. Take care of yourself and that sweet little boy of yours.”
I hung up and made a note on the desk pad, SassySelena, then went upstairs.
Chapter Fifteen
I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead
I escaped to bed with my aching head. All I wanted was to sleep in peace, without internal rumblings, without songs, without dreams; just me and the dark.
I buried my face in the cool, crisp, cotton-covered pillow. Bliss. I could feel the coolness fading my headache away; with it went the background hum left over from the doctor’s visit. The hum was an annoying reminder of MRI and CT scans; nothing good could come of those tests. Hawkeye, Radar and the teddy bear fell through the running water in my head. I rolled over. Why could I see stars? The Lone Ranger and Tonto sprang to mind and a stupid joke my brother used to tell. The Lone Ranger and Tonto went camping in the desert. After they got their tent all set up, they fell sound asleep. Some hours later, Tonto woke the Lone Ranger and said, “Kemo Sabe, look at the sky, what you see?”
The Lone Ranger replied, “I see millions of stars.”
“What that tell you?” asked Tonto.
The Lone Ranger pondered for a minute, and then said, “Astronomically speaking, it tells me there are millions of galaxies and potentially billions of planets. Meteorologically, it seems we will have a beautiful day tomorrow. What does it tell you, Tonto?”
Tonto fell silent for a moment, then said, “Kemo Sabe, you dumbass. It tells me someone stole the tent.”
No, really, why can I see the stars? A voice inside my head replied, ‘Because your eyes are open, fool. And you have glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.’
I blinked. Yep: they were open and resistant to closing. Shut, damn you!
My phone rang. The display flashed on the nightstand; the ring tone telling me it was Aidan.
I wasn’t asleep so I might as well talk to my brother. “Hey, Aidan, what can I do for you?” I shook off the remnants of sleepiness.
“Who is moderating the Butterfly Foundation chat rooms?” No ‘Hi, how are you?’ No ‘Hope I didn’t wake you!’ I checked the time on my phone. It was nine-thirty, not exactly late.
I was wide awake and very alert. “We have three moderators, each working a four-hour shift. Dad has a list, why?”
“I’m in one of the rooms. There’s someone in here I don’t believe is a child.”
“One sec.” I grabbed my laptop, wrestled it out of the carry case, and flicked my cell onto speakerphone. “I’m jumping in.”
A minute later Aidan asked, “You’re Otherwisecat, right?”
“Uh-huh. I see ya, Aidan; nice screen name!” There was a deal of sarcasm in my voice: ‘Hell_boy.’ What was he thinking? What was I thinking? This is Aidan. He’s like freaking Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up.
I watched, read and surmised that the person didn’t speak English as a first language, because the syntax was all wrong. There is a registration process for the chat room and a waiting period because we check everyone to make sure they are kids and that they’re getting the help they need in life. So this person must either be a child, or be using a child’s account. I pulled up the details for that particular screen name. SadlySandy had a Vienna address. She was a sophomore at Oakton High School.
“Aidan, I have this kid’s details … I’m going to get someone to call her now.”
“Thanks, Ellie. You’re staying in the room, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Lemme get the boys up here.”
I called out to Mac and Lee. Aidan squawked over the phone, “It was necessary to holler in my ear, huh?” I ignored him and dressed. It was one thing getting flack from Lee and Sam over a sexy little evening dress, but they didn’t need to know what I don’t wear to bed.
Several minutes later, they thumped up the stairs. Mac knocked on the door before opening it slowly. He showed a great deal of relief at seeing me dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed, laptop perched on my knee.
“Babe?”
“Aidan is on the phone, he had a query about the Butterfly Foundation chat room.”
“Hey, Aidan!” Mac said. He sat next to me, peered at the screen and read everything I had pulled up on the SadlySandy kid.
“Aid, where you been hi
ding, boy?” Lee asked.
“Working mostly. Keeping away from Ellie and Mac after that fund-raising bash the publisher threw.”
“Man, you should have seen how pissed they were. If I was you, Aid, I’d be leaving the state.” Lee grinned at us. He was having fun winding up Aidan.
“Really?” Aidan actually sounded worried but I knew better.
“Hell, yes.”
I intervened with a dismissive tone, “Yes, we were pissed Aidan; lucky for you we’ve got bigger fish to fry. Hang on a minute. I need to show Lee something.” I beckoned to Lee to come see the screen.
Mac pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called the kid’s home number. He walked out to the hallway to minimize the background noise.
I continued chatting to the occupants of the chat room. Nothing had changed with the person signed on as SadlySandy and she carried on taking part in the room. Talk about multitasking: I guess teenagers are well used to texting, chatting, talking on the phone and probably doing homework. All at once.
Mac came back. His stony expression spoke volumes.
A pang in my gut matched the ache in my head. I just knew she wasn’t even online.
“Ellie, run a ping and trace on the ISP for SadlySandy. It’s not her.”
I clicked the Neotrace icon and waited.
“She’s okay?”
“Yes. Sandy Galen is at home with mom and dad playing a video game … that ‘Sing Star’ thing.”
“Guess even the best multitasker can’t play that and sit in the chat room holding several conversations.”
We watched the trace program trying to pinpoint the location of this imposter.
“Has she given her password to anyone?”
“She said not; whoever this is probably hacked it.”
I forgot Aidan was still listening until he spoke, “Is it that easy?”
“Nope,” Mac replied. “They’d need to know what they were doing.”
“Could that same person have hacked into the database and have people’s personal information?”
Oh, God. Bile rose from my stomach, almost making it to my throat. I could feel the burn. Could this be how the Unsub is finding victims? Aidan didn’t even know what we were working on. This was an innocent observation on his part. Was there information about me on that database? I hadn’t created a profile or anything.
“Aidan, I’ll call you back.” He really didn’t need to hear this conversation. I wanted to go in and shut down the imposter, close the account and, if necessary, shut down the entire server. But I didn’t want to leave the kids with nowhere to go for help. If I shut down the server I’d be abandoning them – just like their parents – sending them out to connect somewhere else. Somewhere they weren’t monitored by caring moderators. Then the real horror kicked in: if I shut down the server they’d go somewhere this person couldn’t prey upon them, or at least would have to work harder to find them.
Somewhere safe?
The thought that they weren’t safe now made me feel ill.
Lee and Mac were staring at me as if I had suddenly sprouted horns.
“Can I help you both?”
They looked at each other but said nothing.
“Speak,” I commanded.
“He could have something. It’s possible that this person may even be our Unsub.” Mac slung an arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “You’re pale. Do you need something?”
Did I need something? I needed to stop this killer. “I’m okay.”
Lee tapped my hand. “Check it out, Ellie, we’re seconds off an answer.”
We all watched as the last lines filled in on the list then clicked the Registrant button. I looked at the reply to the trace on the screen. “Department of Defense, Arlington. You have got to be fuc’n joking.”
“Christ!” Lee groaned.
“Crap,” Mac muttered.
“Could the hacker have hacked the Defense Department, too?” I knew that was a million-to-one shot but, hell, could someone from inside the Defense Department hack our Foundation and pose as a child … to what end?
Mac interrupted my mental ramble. “Nah. This has got to be coming from inside.”
I voiced my first terrifying thoughts, “Do we have our Unsub, or do we have a potential pedophile?” But wait, there’s more. “Do we shut the Foundation rooms? Do we expose this immediately and publicly? Do we find who used the terminal showing on this trace, charge them now with hacking and hope this is our Unsub? And that something carrying the death penalty will stick?”
Lee watched the room chatter intently. “Can we see if anyone is using private messages?”
“The only ones who can use them are us. It was a safeguard to protect the kids.” Mac replied.
“Could someone change that?”
I picked up my phone and made a call, “Caine, we need a liaison inside the Department of Defense, Arlington.”
He inhaled. I heard the air rush past his teeth. “You want in the Pentagon? Oh, this had better be good.”
“This may be pertinent to our case, I need someone to go to a particular terminal and tell me who is using it. I need it now.”
“I’ll get you in. Stand by.”
Caine hung up.
I watched Lee hustle from the room. It always amazed me how someone as impressive and big as him could move with such stealth. If you didn’t see him go, you wouldn’t hear him. Lee’s six feet seven inches tall and gives the appearance of a quiet, moving wall of muscle. He wasn’t someone I’d mess with if I didn’t know him so well. He returned carrying papers and looking serious. He handed the papers to me with no comment. I started reading. He’d given me the comparisons we’d run on the victims. Two had the same doctor. Two had the same pharmacist – both were the Richmond cases. I read on until I came to the one thing that churned my stomach and burned my throat. All of our victims had a connection to the Butterfly Foundation. Technically, that meant they were all parents.
My mind threw out a scene to mull over. Marie’s kitchen: the baby’s bottle amongst the filth. Was there a baby? No one mentioned a baby. It never came up during the interviews with neighbors. There was no other evidence of a baby but for the bottle. I turned the page and read the last section. All the other victims had children; they lived with them, or the kids were with other family members and had supervised visitation. Seeing the list of names on the cold white paper made me shake. Why wasn’t Marie’s baby mentioned?
I looked up to find Mac and Lee watching me. Mac accurately read the expression on my face.
“We’re not going back to Vale Road tonight.”
“Could there be a baby stashed there anywhere at all?” This was where Mac had to say ‘No’ and believe it. Really, truly believe it.
“No. The bomb squad searched for a bomb; they would’ve found a baby if there was one to find.”
A wave of relief almost swamped me. The person signed on as SadlySandy was still chatting to Aidan online.
Caine called back with a contact and a meeting. We were ready to leave within five minutes and my phone went again. Unknown number. I noted the time on my phone. It was Thursday already. I had my wish: Wednesday was over. The little voice in my head said, ‘Be careful what you wish for.’
I answered with, “Conway.”
“Ma’am, this is Kelvin Nightingale at the Comms center. Nine-one-one reported a woman murdered in Reston; this fits your investigation.”
“When did the call come in?”
“Five minutes ago, 911 are still talking to the person.”
“Have emergency services been dispatched?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Remind them they are not to enter the dwelling without police. Have police verify the condition of the victim and secure the scene. We’re on our way … Kelvin – address?”
I hung up and told my team we were going to Colts Neck, Reston.
I called Aidan back and asked him to monitor the chat room and to notify the moderat
ors that we had a security breach. Until we could deal with it, I wanted everyone aware and all eyes on those kids. Aidan grumbled a fair bit about the time and needing his beauty sleep. I couldn’t dispute that. He also conceded that kids’ lives were more important and he’d stay in the chat room. No doubt he’ll get his own back at some stage. I’ll be waiting.
This time I hung up and hoped my phone would stay silent. Enough with the bad news already!
I sat on the bed and considered our position. Mac and Lee were frozen on the spot waiting for me to say something.
“Scratch the Pentagon visit. We’ve got a fresh scene.” I looked at my laptop screen. “And SadlySandy is still in the room chatting to Aidan.”
“Reschedule?” Lee asked.
“Yeah. Send someone to find out whose terminal it is; I want to know who we’re dealing with.”
“Not the Unsub,” Lee replied with a soft voice. “I’ll call Caine.”
‘Not the Unsub’ rang in my ears like a death knell. That only left ‘pedophile’ in my mind. At that moment I wished I had a normal job, where people used the Internet to chat to friends, not set up kids and ruin lives. Stop! I was jumping to conclusions and going to drive myself crazy. Pearls of wisdom curled and twisted through the horror in my mind and came out as, ‘Better to light a candle than curse the darkness.’ Great, my mind was tossing up things grandpa used to say. It rolled around my head a little and began to actually make sense. Damned if grandpa wasn’t right; there was no sense in me getting upset about this. I’d just have to fix it A-sap.
Whoever it was in the chat room couldn’t do much now we knew there was something going on. We were watching from the inside and out. Breathe, Ellie … first things first. Caine would find out who it is we need to speak to at the Pentagon, while we checked out this new murder.
Mac and I stood on the top step; water lapped at the edge of the bottom step. The weather hadn’t improved in the few hours we’d been home. Our security lights played upon the watery driveway, giving it the appearance of a dirty river.
“Oh, man.” I sighed out of sheer frustration. Even the weather was against us.