It was just after nine. Greg had said not to expect him home much before eleven. This chat-room surveillance was dull business, but at least I was getting my reading done, a pastime I loved.
When I returned to the computer a few minutes later, there was still no sign of Knotdead, but there were instant messages from two other folks. One said Hi, sexy! Remember me? The other said Suck my dick. I deleted both.
I was only interested in whatever Knotdead had to say. But as soon as the messages disappeared, I had a change of heart. If Brian Eddy was not the Blond Bomber, maybe one of these other yahoos, such as the “suck my dick” guy, was the killer instead.
Hmmm. Now, wait a minute, I told myself. You’re only supposed to be proving that Brian Eddy is not the killer. At no time are you to go nosing about looking for the real Blond Bomber. But, said my nosy side, if you can prove that someone else is the killer, that’s the same as proving Dr. Eddy is not the killer. Well, isn’t it?
Still, I really didn’t have the appetite to converse with people who wanted me to do intimate things with their virtual body parts. Did Lil play these games? Would she have had a snappy comeback to that message? Would she have put him in his place or encouraged more graphic sex talk? Or would Perfect4u have deleted the vulgar message as well? I wanted to believe that even online under an assumed identity, Lil practiced at least some of the same good taste she did in real life.
The sound of a slight ding roused me from my thoughts about Lil’s behavior. It was the announcement that a new instant message had been received. Looking up at the small text box, I saw that it was one of the previous callers, someone named HuckFynn. Cute name. Ol’ Huck was the one who’d asked Perfect4u if she’d remembered him.
Hope I’m not bothering you, the message said.
I paused, wondering if I should respond. Muffin hopped back up on the desk. I scratched the animal behind her ears and under her heavy collar. She purred in kitty ecstasy.
“What should I do, girl?” I pointed to the screen and said to the cat, “Anyone you remember your mom talking to?”
Muffin yawned and curled up for another snooze. Seamus was still comatose on the loveseat. I was definitely on my own.
I poised my fingers over the keyboard, took a deep breath, and started typing. No, no bother at all.
Several seconds lapsed before I received a reply: Good. Followed by a repeat of Do you remember me?
HuckFynn must have been a former online playmate. Or was he someone Lil had simply conversed with? And if so, how long ago? If he had to ask if she remembered him, it couldn’t have been too recent. With some care, I pecked out a response. I’m sorry, but I meet so many people online.
I just bet you do.
Conversing online is tricky business. The five words in HuckFynn’s response could be taken so many ways without knowing the emotion behind them. Was he simply being flirtatious, or was he peeved because Perfect4u didn’t recognize him? I wondered if Lil would have instantly known who he was. I wrote down his screen name to remember to ask her.
Again, I put my fingers to work. Sorry. The name’s familiar, but I just can’t remember any details.
A long pause followed my message. Just when I thought he’d gone off to sulk, he sent me another message.
Understandable. It’s been a few months since we’ve chatted and, like you said, you meet a lot of people online.
I wondered why Perfect4u and HuckFynn had stopped chatting. Had Lil banished him, or had he lost interest?
Well, I typed, my message showing up in the small text box, you’re here now. I paused, grimaced as I added a stupid smiley face, and then hit the send key. On the fly, I decided to take a chance and typed, Where have you been for the past few months?
I hope I didn’t say anything to upset you.
He responded, Couldn’t see the point after you refused to meet me. There was a slight pause. I’m looking for more than just a tease.
His words made me wonder how long they had been interacting online before HuckFynn moved on.
Another entry showed up. Are you still just into online chat or are you ready for a real-time date?
I glanced over at the photo Lil had given me for reference. It was a picture of a very pretty, wholesome-looking, twenty-something blond—the photo she’d emailed to men when they requested a picture. Who knows where she’d gotten it—probably downloaded it from some poor unsuspecting girl’s website. It made me wonder what HuckFynn would say or do if Lil had said yes to the meeting and instead of blondie the dreamgirl, an elderly woman showed up for the date. Or even a forty-something BBW. I was almost tempted to set something up, just to see what would happen.
I’m sorry, I typed to HuckFynn, but my situation has not changed. I didn’t know what excuse Lil had given to avoid meeting men, but I thought that might cover most anything and everything.
Before I had finished typing and sending my last message to HuckFynn, two new, separate message windows opened. One was from Jinxee, the same creep as before, asking me for another blow job, but this time he’d at least added the word please. I added his screen name to my list.
Did some women actually find this endearing? Supposing for a minute that Jinxee was the Blond Bomber, I found it hard to believe that the dead women would have found this line of sweet talk appealing enough to want to set up a meeting. I could see Gabby finding it funny, but grown women? Professional women, such as Laurie Luke? But then, there was no accounting for what turned people on. Maybe women responded to this brand of vulgarity when looking for adventure. But even when I was single, it would have done nothing to cause the pitter-patter of my little heart.
When I read the second of the new messages, my heart didn’t pitter-patter, but it did stop short for a beat or two. The second message was a simple hello from Knotdead.
As I was about to type a response, the cordless phone next to me rang, and I saw that the caller was Zee. Quickly, I typed a message to Knotdead: Hang on, I’m on the phone.
I need to talk to you was his reply.
“According to La Tanya,” Zee began, cutting to the chase, “Amber has the hots for Dr. Eddy, and the two are having an affair.”
“Did La Tanya actually say they were having an affair or that everyone thought they were having one?” While I spoke, I kept my eye on the message screen from Knotdead.
“She told me they’re having one right now.”
I glanced up at the message screen. Knotdead had written You still there?
Jinxee had also returned, this time asking Perfect4u for more photos, preferably more topless ones. I looked at the photo on the desk next to me. The young woman was fully clad. Had Lil also been sending nude photos of other women to men online? My mind didn’t want to go there.
“Did she say how long it’s been going on?”
“A few months tops, if that.” Zee hesitated. “Do you know anything about Dr. Eddy’s marriage?”
“I know he’s married to Jane Sharp, the designer.” As I spoke, my recent discussion with Lil came to mind. “His mother said their relationship seemed rather distant, and that Jane thought her husband was having an affair.”
“Well, La Tanya told me she had lunch with Amber not too long ago, and that Amber told her that Dr. Eddy was going to get a divorce and marry her.”
Although I’d never seen a photo of Jane Sharp, the image of the overtly sexy Amber with her hooker shoes flashed in my brain. Amber looked more like Gordon Harper’s type than Dr. Eddy’s. But you never know.
“Does La Tanya believe her?”
“I asked her the same thing.” A pause from Zee’s end. “She was uncomfortable discussing it but finally told me she stayed late one night last week and accidentally came upon Dr. Eddy and Amber in flagrante.”
“Really? Right there in the office?”
“Uh-huh, but here’s the odd part. La Tanya said the door to the doctor’s office was open a crack. La Tanya peeked in and saw them, but just as she pulled away to leave, she could
have sworn she saw Amber catch her eye and wink at her.”
“Was this before or after they’d had lunch?”
“A day or two after.”
“The cunning little minx. She was making sure La Tanya knew about the affair so there would be no doubt about Amber’s influence over the doctor.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. La Tanya’s worked there several years and says Amber’s been trouble since she started. She also told me this is the first time she’s ever known the doctor to behave inappropriately.”
“That she knows of.”
While I had been talking to Zee, so many messages lit up my computer screen, the tones sounded like a pinball machine on speed. Perfect4u was a popular gal.
After I said goodbye to Zee, I went back to Knotdead. Sorry, important call, I wrote him. Are you still there?
Yes, came the seemingly eager reply. He went on to tell Perfect4u how much he’d missed her and loved her—how his life was empty without her.
I twitched my nose in annoyance, knowing what I knew. He missed her so much, he was doing his own nurse on the side? Counting Perfect4u, he had three women in his life and was cheating on them all. After glancing at the photo again, I had another thought. Amber and the girl in the photo Lil had given me were very similar in appearance. Not exactly, not like Laurie and Lisa Luke, but close enough to be reasonable facsimiles. Maybe the doctor had substituted the willing Amber for the unavailable Perfect4u. It didn’t change the fact he was a dog, but it made some sense. Lil told me that she had halted her sexual playtime with Knotdead a few months ago, and Brian Eddy’s affair with Amber was a fairly recent thing. Dr. Eddy seemed to have a thing for stacked blonds, just like the Blond Bomber. But then, so did a lot of men.
I’m sure you’ve found another playmate by now, I wrote him in an attempt to tweak his nose. While waiting for his response, I read and noted the screen names of the other men who were contacting Perfect4u, all looking for companionship and several looking for raw sex talk, apparently Perfect4u’s house specialty.
There was another message from HuckFynn saying he was still interested in meeting Perfect4u, offering to take her to dinner at one of the top restaurants in Los Angeles, first class all the way. At least he wasn’t asking for something disgusting.
Finally, the next message came from Knotdead. Truthfully, I have been seeing someone.
A pause. I waited.
She’s a nice woman. Looks a lot like you. Another pause while he typed more. I was hoping I could love her like I love you, but it’s not the same. We don’t connect emotionally and spiritually like you and I do. I told her tonight it’s over.
So the ambitious Amber was yesterday’s news. But was she really? Was Knotdead just saying that to win over Perfect4u?
But she’s real, Perfect4u wrote back via my fingers. We’ve only talked online. Even the sex wasn’t real between us.
It was very real to me. Every time I made love to her, I pretended it was you.
I hesitated, at a loss for what to type next.
I’m leaving my wife. His message came quickly on the heels of his last. Jane has agreed to a divorce. We can be together now.
I can’t. I typed the two words one letter at a time, stalling.
Yes, you can. The typed messages came fast and furious. At least meet me. Give us a chance to see if we can have in person what we had online. If not, we stay just friends.
Even with the dryness of the computer, I could feel Knotdead’s sincerity. After meeting him, I could see Brian Eddy seated at a laptop, pounding out his heartfelt pain to Perfect4u. As reserved as he was in his professional life, his online demeanor was passionate. His messages were different, more alive and real than the requests for sexual satisfaction from the others. It seemed to me that he might really have deep feelings for Perfect4u.
Another tone. Jinxee was asking again for more naked photos, this time of Perfect4u’s butt. I deleted it. HuckFynn wrote a message saying he was heading to bed. He asked if Perfect4u would talk dirty to him before he left. Like you used to, he wrote.
I wondered if I could ever look at Lil the same again.
Except for the early morning surfers, the beach was empty during my six o’clock walk. But instead of walking, as I should have been, I was sitting on a bench with a cup of coffee, thinking about my conversations the night before with Zee and Knotdead. Wainwright, unleashed as a treat, was scampering about, running back and forth, chasing seagulls.
I wondered if I should contact Jane Sharp—maybe find out if they were really getting a divorce and why. I could always drum up some pretense of wanting my place redecorated, except that one look at my address and profession and she’d know I couldn’t afford her. And I wasn’t sure what I could learn from her. I also didn’t want to alert her needlessly if the Dr. Eddy/Blond Bomber connection wasn’t there. Still, I did want to meet her. Greg was going to try to contact Gabby’s family and see if we could set up a time to talk to them. So far, his attempts to reach anyone connected to victim number one, Elaine Epps, had yielded a goose egg.
My gut was still telling me that Brian Eddy was not the Blond Bomber. Last night, after I cooled him down about meeting Perfect4u, we chatted about his marriage and divorce. For all his success, Brian Eddy was a sad and lonely man. So lonely, this highly educated and normally rational man had fallen in love with a personality on the computer, an ideal rather than flesh and blood—fiction, not fact. He had believed everything Perfect4u had told him about herself and about her feelings for him. Even without the fact that he was her son, something she didn’t know until much later, Lil had toyed with another human being’s feelings for her own amusement, and although I knew Lil was not a mean person by nature, the activity still struck me as being downright irresponsible, even unwittingly hateful. I’m sure not everyone chatting on the Internet is as gullible as Dr. Eddy had been, but I’m sure there are a lot more like him—people who, either from loneliness or despair, or their own belief that most people told the truth, believed everything typed anonymously.
In talking to Brian, I could also see how Lil had decided to stay in contact with him after she found out Knotdead’s real identity. He was her son, and he was in pain. No longer his online lover, she had moved herself into the role of confidant and comforter, which only made Knotdead want her more.
I was roused from my thoughts by barks from Wainwright. They were joyful barks, not warnings. I looked around and saw him running for a boy on a bike a few yards away. It was Silas. I waved. Silas got off his bike and walked it over to me.
“Hi, Odelia.”
“Good morning, Silas. What in the world are you doing at the beach so early?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes I come down here before school.”
“School starts this early?”
“It starts at eight, but I like the beach in the morning.”
“Me, too.”
“I know. I see you here sometimes.” While he spoke, he stroked the dog.
“And you haven’t said hello?”
“Usually, you and Wainwright are walking pretty fast.” He looked at me, then down at his sneakers. “Can I sit with you?”
I smiled at the boy and scooted over on the bench to make room. He was clean and his hair was brushed, but his school clothes were as worn as his play clothes.
“Does your grandmother know you leave the house this early?”
He shook his head. “She sleeps late. Billy’s home getting dressed and eating breakfast. He’s a slowpoke.” He consulted an oversized kid’s watch. “I’ll go home and get him, and we’ll ride our bikes to school together.”
“You take good care of your brother, don’t you?”
Silas watched the waves. “When Mom went away, she told me it was my job to look after Billy.”
Seems like everyone had a job looking after someone else. Greg and Zee looked after me. Wainwright looked after our family. I looked after Greg, my dad, and Mike Steele. Pops looked after our van, and we looked
after him. I wondered who, besides his grandmother, looked after Silas. And who would look after Lisa Luke now that Laurie was gone? Everyone should have someone looking out for them.
“Where are your parents, Silas?”
“Mom went away to a hospital, because she’s sick.” He looked at me, his young eyes far older than his age. “I haven’t seen my dad since Billy was a baby.”
“How long has your mother been in the hospital?”
“Two years. She’s a druggie.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if self-trained to keep the emotion out of his words. “But every time she starts getting better, she gets sick again. We used to live with my aunt, but she got a job working nights, so we came to live here.”
“My mother left me when I was a teenager. I haven’t seen her since I was sixteen.”
He looked up at me, surprised. “Really?”
I nodded. Gently, I put an arm around his young shoulders. Silas stiffened, then relaxed.
“Why do they do that, Odelia? Don’t they want us?”
It was the question nagging at my heart for over thirty years, but I gave the boy a hopeful answer. One that people had been giving me since I was sixteen.
“It has nothing to do with us, Silas. Or with them wanting us. Sometimes people just aren’t strong enough. Then they turn to drugs, or alcohol, or just leave rather than face their responsibilities.”
“You ever want to see your mom again?”
“I’d like to, yes. And maybe one day I will.”
Silas turned to look me fully in the face. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I smiled at the boy, a youngster with whom I now shared an emotional connection.
“Are you a cop or PI or something cool like that?”
I did a double take. “No, I’m not. I work in an office. Why?”
“I overheard you and Greg talking when I brought Wainwright home, and it sounded like you were.”
A nervous laugh escaped my lips. So, it’s true. Little pitchers do have big ears. I wondered just how much the boy had heard.
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