“Check out those locations,” John told Kylie, and tapped his ballpoint pen against his legal pad. He glanced at her over his glasses, the top button of his white shirt undone and his tie loose and slightly crooked. He made it look as if it were Friday afternoon instead of Monday morning. “You have anything for us so far?”
Everyone watched while her gaze dropped to the bold letters in her notebook-
“Who have you gotten to know?” Rad asked.
“Just a handful of kids.” She decided to be evasive. “I’m using the cover of being a cultural anthropologist working on my master’s and doing a thesis on teenage interaction.”
The others nodded, obviously satisfied with her story. Each of them played their own part in capturing this guy and Kylie knew none of them cared about details from her, unless it was about a bust.
“It’s shocking as hell how easily they will give you their online screen names,” she added, deciding to show them she’d accomplished something this past week.
“Not really,” Rad said. He focused on her with gray eyes that seemed to be searching, trying to learn as much as possible about her. His focus wasn’t leery, but at the same time she saw little trust. He was the typical jaded cop, years on the force making it impossible for him to accept anyone for who they were without analyzing them first. “Kids these days live on computers. It’s becoming incredibly common, and the accepted norm, for people, not just children, to meet online and start dating. Smoke-filled bars that once were meat markets are becoming a thing of the past.”
“And good riddance,” she said, smiling easily at him. Then inching her chair backward, she glanced over at John. “We don’t have a clue what Peter looks like, do we?”
“The girl who went to meet the boy who was supposed to be from Topeka,” Rad began, and looked down at one of the files he’d spread out in front of him while blowing out a breath. He ran thick fingers over closely shaved gray hair and didn’t look up when he continued speaking. “Sally Wright, that was her name. Her father, Charles Wright, reported seeing a Caucasian male get out of a car and then jump back into it when he approached his daughter.”
“I saw that,” Kylie said. “But he couldn’t give a solid ID. We don’t know what he was driving?”
“Nope.” Rad raised his gaze to her, his brow wrinkling, giving his face the look of a bulldog. “That’s all we’ve got so far.”
Kylie nodded. It was nothing to go on. Pushing her chair back farther, she gathered her notes and shoved them into her briefcase.
“Well, I’ve got a job to do,” she said, anxious to get out of there.
“Keep me posted daily on what you do,” John told her.
She didn’t answer to him, but it was a courtesy she was expected to give the local agency. Nodding once, “Of course,” she said, as she lifted her strap to her briefcase over her shoulder and headed toward the door.
“And Kylie,” John said. “Remember, until we narrow this down further, you can’t rely on the cops in the area.”
She noticed Rad’s expression tighten, his face pinch with aggravation, but he didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything worse than the possibility of someone close to you, or an individual whom you’ve trusted over the years, turning out to be a criminal. And a child molester-the worse kind.
“Got it,” she said, and headed out the door.
Stopping at the first Starbucks she spotted, she spent time on her computer using MapQuest to locate each of the businesses her perp used. Mission Hills wasn’t a big town, although it ran into other suburbs surrounding Kansas City. Sitting in her car, sipping on her coffee, she used her wireless printer from her trunk and quickly printed directions to help her around town. Today she wouldn’t play the teenage scene but would instead focus on every location with public computers, starting with the ones their perp had already used. Something told her she wasn’t dealing with an idiot. She was probably miles behind her guy and she seriously doubted he’d retrace his steps. But this guy had several months on her if he was responsible for the deaths of all the girls she had files on. His level of comfort would be pretty high right now. Quite possibly, if he had found a comfortable location and was content with the knowledge that he wasn’t being tracked, he would use a computer more than once to set up a meeting with his next prey. If she was lucky, his next “victim” would be her.
Her cell phone rang as she pulled into the parking lot of a locally owned bookstore and coffeehouse. She parked, focusing on the squad car idling along the curb by the entrance, as she answered her phone.
“Hello,” she said, adjusting her earpiece and then taking in the busy-looking bookstore.
“Peter struck again.”
“Huh?” She looked down at the number on her phone.
“It’s Paul. Don’t even try to keep up with all of the numbers down here,” he said, as if he could see what she was doing at that moment. Computer geeks made her nervous. For all she knew, he very well could see what she was doing. “PD just got a call in at Raney’s. It’s three blocks north of you.”
“You can see me,” she accused, and glared at the navigator on her dash that stared ominously back at her with its one blank eye. “What’s the call?”
“A fifteen-year-old female,” he began.
Kylie looked up when Perry hurried around the squad car and got in on the driver’s side. Another man climbed in on the passenger side and the car pulled away from the curb.
“Apparently a Raney’s employee found her when he was collapsing boxes in the Dumpster.”
“Found her?” Kylie’s stomach twisted.
Perry drove past her, pinning her with a possessive stare that he held her with until he was forced to look ahead and focus on his driving. Chills rushed over her at the same time that a sickening sensation grew in her gut.
“Yup. Police are arriving on the scene now. I’ll have a name here in a few moments.”
Kylie pondered continuing with her project of checking out the locations on her list or heading over to Raney’s.
“Raney’s is a grocery store?” she confirmed, pretty sure that was the name of the store she’d driven past a few times since she’d been here.
“Yup. It’s at Sixty-second and Indian Lane. I’ll have more details for you here in a few.” He barely paused before adding, “You’re practically across the street right now.”
“I’m going to check out this bookstore first. Maybe our Peter enjoys watching his victims being discovered,” she added. “Then I’ll head over and check out the crime scene.”
“Are you going to let the cops see you?” Paul asked.
Kylie wouldn’t ask him if he had watched Perry and her in her house last week. She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer. “I’ll wait and see how much of a crowd of spectators forms around the scene. Call me back when you have more info.”
There were three public computers inside the bookstore and no one was on any of them. After spending a few minutes browsing on the side of the store where windows offered her a view of the grocery store across the street, and taking in the other customers in the store, Kylie decided Peter probably wasn’t in the store. The only guy there worked behind the counter and didn’t pay any attention to the police cars that entered the busy parking lot across the street. She didn’t rule out the possibility that Peter could be a woman, but the two customers in the store were intent on browsing through books. Kylie nodded at the salesclerk, who gave her a half-interested nod in return, then headed back to her car.
It wasn’t the first time Kylie had worked under distracted circumstances. Paul hadn’t called back, and Perry’s intense look was burned into her mind. Evidence was mounting in favor of a cop being Peter. She wanted those ISPs confirmed and fingered her phone inside her purse when she slid into her car. What if Perry was Peter?
Perry’s obsessive nature, his dominant behavior, and the way he was intent on knowing what she was doing would be justified if he believed she might be trailing him. But, if PETETAKESU was her perp, he’d talked to her online as Perry had knocked on her door.
