When his desktop appeared, Alan double clicked the flash drive icon. Fleming had given him a copy of what he referred to as his “Gracie Lite” program. Once installed, Alan would be able to access and enter the chat room where Fleming knew the Columbus men would be sharing their latest child rape exploits.
A window came up telling him that he was about to install a program that could “seriously damage (his) hard drive if not installed properly.” He was tempted to call Fleming about that but decided to go ahead and install anyway. He clicked OK and felt his heart sink as the screen went pitch black.
Nearly thirty seconds later the screen came back to life as the software began installing on his hard drive. He stared at the installation icon, wondering if he’d be able to pull this off. He opened his notebook and studied the notes he had taken while Fleming went over what he was to do after the software was finished installing and he was logged on.
It took nearly forty-five minutes for the installation to be completed. After taking another sip of his second cup of coffee, Alan opened the app and double-clicked it. Seconds later, he was taken to a log-in window on the screen.
Referring to his notes, he typed in the info:
Username: Padwinkle1
Password: youngandsweet38
He hit the sign-in button, held his breath and waited for the command to be accepted.
Then the screen disappeared and was replaced by an ordinary-looking blue and white chat window.
He was in.
He peered at the far right column and saw four names listed, presumably the members currently logged into the room. They were Bobbi, Marco, Zorro and Gumbo. His own username suddenly popped up on the top of the list in bold letters and a line of text appeared in the chat box. It was Bobbi.
“Hey-hey, Padwinkle!”
Before replying, Alan quickly glanced at his notebook. Fleming had recently invented the fictitious Padwinkle so that Alan would already be established as the newest member of the chat room. He had informed the others that he was fairly new to the Columbus area and looking forward to being a member of their little club. He had also indicated that he had a preference for pre-pubescent girls and hoped he could find some action soon.
Alan noted that Padwinkle used the word “yo” a lot and had confessed he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. He had claimed that he was on the shy side and that he hoped the others would be patient with his reticence. A couple of them called him Paddy, apparently to help him feel accepted and more at ease.
Alan brought his fingers to the keyboard and typed, “Yo, Bobbi.”
“Hey, what’s Paddy up to tonight?”
“About five-nine,” he joked, hoping he wasn’t being too clever.
“LOL, I’m cracking up here!”
“Don’t quit your day job,” Gumbo chimed in.
“Tough crowd,” Alan typed. “So what’s happening?”
“Gumbo’s got a confession to make.”
“I think I’m in love.” Gumbo said.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” Alan typed, and immediately regretted it. All he could do was cross his fingers and pray that Gumbo didn’t prefer boys instead.
“Lidia. Isn’t that the sweetest name? She’s so special!”
“Tell Paddy what you did last night.”
“I told her I wanted to read her a story and asked her to sit on my lap. At first she was shy so I told her to just pretend I was Santa Claus. She finally hopped up on my leg and I read to her about an old man who’s lonely until he meets a sweet little girl who’s just like her. The girl becomes his friend and wants to make him happy because she feels sorry for him. Well, you can imagine the rest of the story. It was awesome!”
Alan wanted to jump through the computer screen and strangle the demented bastard. It took all his resolve to refrain.
“Doesn’t that sound absolutely precious, Paddy?” Marco typed.
“For sure,” Alan chatted. “Must be nice.”
“Now don’t get all down. I promised we’d find somebody for you, but you’ll just have to be patient.”
“That’s right,” Gumbo said. “These things take some time when you’re the new kid in town.”
“Which reminds me,” Zorro said. “When are we gonna meet you, Paddy?”
“Just say when and where,” Alan typed.
“How about Busters? It’s a little bar on the north side,” Bobbi said.
“When?” Marco asked.
“How about tomorrow?” Bobbi replied.
“OK,” said Marco.
“Can’t make it then,” Gumbo said. “How about Saturday?”
“Not good,” said Bobbi. “Got a prior commitment.”
“I can’t do Saturday, either,” Zorro said.
“Looks like I’ll have to meet you another time,” Gumbo said. “Sorry, Paddy.”
“No problem,” Alan said.
“So what time’s good for you, Paddy?”
Alan paused to gather his thoughts. This was moving much faster than he’d thought it would. Apparently this crew of creeps wanted to get to know who they’re talking to in short order. He wondered if that was because they were suspicious of him. He also wondered if he was being too hasty meeting them so soon. He really had no choice. This could be his only chance to move forward in this case and he didn’t want to blow it.
“Ten?” he typed.
“Good with me,” Bobbi said.
“I’m good.”
“Fine with me.”
“Then ten it is,” Bobbi typed. “Ever heard of Buster’s?”
“No.”
“It’s out near Westerville—Wait. Here’s the link—”
A moment later, a link popped up on the screen. Alan clicked on it and was taken to a website for Buster’s Bar and Grill. He quickly bookmarked it and returned to the chat room.
“Yo, got it. How will I be able to spot you guys?”
Bobbi replied, “We’ll be hanging out near the pool table. I’ll be wearing my Clippers jersey. Lucky number ten.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“First beer’s on me!” Marco said.
“Sounds good. Bye.”
Alan logged out, his relief palpable.
He’d done it.
And although he was now in a position to get moving on the case, he felt uncomfortable. This had been way too easy. Was it some kind of set up? He recalled Fleming mentioning he was pretty sure these guys were legit, but that one could never be absolutely certain. Fleming had been unable to hack into their computers to confirm their legitimacy but from his experience they appeared to be on the up-and-up. He went on to say there was slim chance that were actually undercover vice officers posing as a group of child rapists.
After Fleming had seen the shock on Alan’s face he assured him he was ninety-nine per cent certain that they weren’t undercover agents and that everything should go as planned. But if for some reason Alan thought something seemed suspicious, he was to bail out and call Fleming immediately.
His anxiety mounting, Alan quit Gracie Lite, shut down his iMac and reached for the phone.
CHAPTER 17
Amanda climbed out of bed, crept over to the window and gazed out at the brilliant morning sun. It was a glorious Friday morning. She threw on a pair of sweats before going downstairs to pour herself a cup of coffee. Uncle Ken came into the kitchen and sat down across from her at the table.
“Sleep well last night?” he asked.
“Like a rock. Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“And what are your plans for this beautiful day?”
“Got to follow up on Mark Foley. One thing I need to do is check out that gray paint mark on his fender—see if it looks like he actually could have hit the corner of Jodi’s house like the sheriff believes. I’m really frustrated, Uncle Ken. As much as I want the sheriff’s son to be the perp, I have my doubts. I think his father is over-reacting and jumping to conclusions about Mark. I don’t know why I think he’s innoc
ent but I do. There’s just something that doesn’t make sense—like how he could know Jodi had all that money in the first place and why he would rob and murder her instead of just waiting until she was away from her house and breaking in to take the loot instead. You know what I mean?”
Barker nodded. “Yes I do. I’ve known Mark since he was a kid and although he was a troublemaker, I can’t see him murdering somebody to pay off his debts. I think whoever killed Jodi had a reason that went beyond simply eliminating her as a witness. Something personal.
“The other thing I can’t understand is the sheriff’s stand on Nick’s guilt. Sure, he may be trying to save his son’s ass by putting all of his cards on Nick, but I don’t think he’s totally ruled Nick out. I think he suspects them both.”
“You’re probably right. Mark Foley may be giving his father more credit than he deserves in this—he’s not fully convinced his son did this. He’s just trying to cover all bases.”
“Which leads us to—”
Barker’s landline suddenly rang. He went to the phone mounted on the wall and checked the caller ID before answering it.
“Ken Barker,” he said.
There was a long pause as Barker listened to the caller. His face grew grave.
“When exactly is the last time you spoke to him, Marge?”
“I see. And you just got his voicemail?”
“Any idea at all where he may have gone?”
“Don’t worry, Marge. It’s too soon to go into panic mode. I’ll see what we can find out from our end and call you back.”
Ken hung up and looked at Amanda. “That was Nick’s mother. They haven’t seen Nick since yesterday evening.”
“Oh, no! Where do they think he went?”
“They have no idea. Maybe back to Richmond. He’s not answering his cellphone or returning their calls. His parents are quite upset, to say the least.”
“This isn’t good, is it?”
“Not at all. If the sheriff finds out he’s AWOL, there will be hell to pay. If Nick has actually left town, they might serve a warrant for his arrest. Damn it, I told him not to leave town until this gets resolved!”
“How could he be so stupid? This is not what we need now—it just makes him look even more guilty!”
“It certainly does. We need to find him, pronto. Maybe he’s still in town. We need to check his friends and the local night spots. See if anyone has seen him.”
“And if nobody has, I’m going to Richmond,” Amanda declared.
“That’s probably a good idea. Shouldn’t you call Alan?”
“Definitely.”
Amanda went over and dialed Alan’s number. After five rings, she got his voicemail.
“Alan, I need to talk to you. Please pick up!” she spoke into the receiver.
When there was no response, she said. “Call me ASAP. We’ve got a major problem down here.”
She hung up and scowled. “I think that’s the first time he hasn’t answered his phone since I’ve known him. I can’t believe it!”
“He’ll call back soon, I’m sure. In the meantime, we need to get moving. I’m going to have to take care of a couple of things at the office first. You want to hit the bars and restaurants in the meantime?”
“Okay. Looks like my shower is going to have to wait.”
“Go ahead and shower, honey. And get some breakfast. Like I told Nick’s mom, we don’t need to start panicking yet. We’re just on high alert.”
“Well, maybe just a quickie, then I’m out of here.”
“I’m leaving now—I’ll call you later.”
Alan was speaking to Charlie Ling when Amanda’s call had clicked in. He wanted to hear the rest of what Charlie had to say so he didn’t pick up.
“Run that by me again. You found an email Jodi had deleted and what?”
“It was from Nick, the ex-husband. He sent it to her a couple of weeks ago. Very interesting, actually.”
“What do you mean, interesting?”
“Here, I’ll read it to you.”
There was a brief pause before Charlie continued.
Hey Babe, I know you’re probably getting ready to delete this but please hear me out first. I’ve spent all day thinking about us and I’ve decided to tell you my thoughts. I can’t go on like this any longer. I’ve tried for the past year to move on with my life since the divorce but it’s not happening. I’m miserable, babe. Every day I think about what a great life we had when we were together and how I fucked it all up. I know it was the biggest mistake of my life, going out on you like that and I don’t blame you for being pissed with me. But had I known that you were going to leave me forever I would have NEVER done what I did! That girl meant nothing to me and you know I love you more than anything else in the world. So I guess what I’m saying is, can’t you just give me one more chance? I can’t live another day without you. All I want is to be with you and make it all up to you. Surely you could at least give me one more chance, can’t you?
You don’t have to answer now. Just promise me you’ll think about it, okay? Take as long as you need, then let me know what you decide. I can wait. I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes but PLEASE GIVE ME ANOTHER CHANCE!
LOVE ALWAYS,
NICK
“You ready for the response?” Charlie asked.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“First of all, her answer was immediate and to the point. Here goes:
Nick,
I’m sorry but there is no way we can ever get back together. I’ve moved on with my life and you need to, too. Whatever we had is gone. You blew it. Sorry to be so blunt but that’s just the way I feel. I suggest you forget me and find somebody else. I am happy the way things are in my life now so please don’t bother me again. You really need to get a life, Nick.
Jodi
“Hmm, probably not what Nick wanted to hear,” Alan said.
“There’s more. Nick responded about an hour later. Listen to this:
Hey Jodi,
I just read your reply and all I can say is FUCK YOU! Really, that’s all you can say after I pour out my heart trying to get your ass back? After all I did for you when we were still together? You have no compassion for anybody but yourself, Jodi.
One of these days somebody’s gonna knock you off that high horse of yours. And I’m gonna laugh my ass off when it happens. You are an uncaring, ungrateful bitch. Get a life, you say? We’ll see about that.
See you in Hell, bitch!
“Whoa!” Alan exclaimed.
“Sounds a little salty, doesn’t he?”
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. Jesus, I can’t believe this. There is so much rage in his words that it sounds like he could kill her and not even bat an eye. This is not good. Not good at all.”
“I thought you might feel that way. How do you think your girlfriend-slash-new partner is going to react to this?”
“First she’ll be shocked. Then she’ll try to read something into what he wrote. Eventually she’ll get past her denial and have to admit that her old friend isn’t quite the super nice guy she thought he was.”
“So you think he murdered her?”
“If he didn’t murder her, it would only be because somebody else beat him to it. Seriously, there’s a slim chance this could be just Nick venting all his anger to Jodi after hitting the bottle hard. The next day he may have woken up sober, wondering what in the hell he’d done. Did she respond back to him?”
“If she did, it’s not anywhere on her hard drive.”
“In other words, probably not.”
“Probably not.”
“What’s the exact date these emails were sent?”
“Let’s see—the first one was sent on Monday, May 28, 8:35 PM. Jodi replied at 11:05 PM. The husband’s last one was sent at 12:02 AM, May 29. ”
Alan jotted the times down. “And no other correspondence from Nick later on?”
“Nope.”
“Shit. He jus
t may have done it—unbelievable.”
“May have done it? How could you think anything else? I mean, this is none of my business but from what you’ve told me about this case, everything points to this guy as the perp. This just ices it, I would think.”
“It doesn’t help, that’s for sure. But I’m going to try to keep an open mind. Hard as that may be. Like I said, there’s always a chance that this was just Nick having a bad night and running off his mouth. End of story.”
“I guess that’s possible. But I sure wouldn’t bet on it.”
“Did you find anything else, Charlie?”
“Not really. The only thing that may be of interest of you is that I detected a worm in her system.”
“A worm?”
“Yeah, you know—like a virus or some other invasive thing. Not sure what the bug is but there’s a chance that somebody hacked into her computer. Or at least was able to access some of her data.”
“But there’s no way to know for sure?”
“Not yet, anyway. If you want, I can examine it further and see what I can find. It’s up to you. But you’re going to have to be patient—it’s the sort of thing that is labor intensive and I don’t have any time to do it now.”
“What do you think I should do? I mean, do you think something could come of it if she had this worm?”
“It’s a long shot, but it is possible that if it’s the right kind of bug, it would suggest that somebody has been in her laptop and tampered with her files. Either copied some or planted some. That might have a bearing on your case, I don’t know.”
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