to be curled up under warm blankets with Kylie sleeping in his arms, he didn’t care what kind of reaction the young lady he wasn’t sure he’d seen before gave him.
He entered the “pit,” immediately aware of how loud everyone seemed to be. Heading for his desk, he didn’t realize he glared at Barker and Richey until the women quit giggling and gave him curious stares.
“Tough night, Flynn?” Jane asked, giving him the onceover and then nudging her partner with her elbow. “I’d hate to see what the lady looks like.”
Both women chuckled and resumed their conversation, an animated gossip session concerning someone in Forensics. Perry wasn’t expected to respond, so he didn’t.
“Perry, there you are. Come here.” Carl gestured with his head and then brought his Styrofoam cup to his lips and downed a fair bit of coffee.
Coffee. That’s what Perry needed. Several cups at least.
“In a minute,” he said, and turned toward the industrialsize coffeemaker that sat on a table in the corner of the “pit.”
Perry helped himself to a cup and blew on the steaming brew as he turned and followed his partner.
“What’s up?” Perry asked, enduring how hot the coffee was and practically gulping it down, willing the caffeine to kick in quickly.
“Rad’s not in yet.”
Perry reached his desk and slumped against it. “Okay, and?”
“Man, you look like shit. Like you’ve been up all night or something.” Carl downed more of his coffee and turned toward his own desk, which was next to Perry’s facing it. Grabbing the morning paper off it, Carl flapped it open and slapped it down on Perry’s desk. “We’re front-page news, man, and not in a good way.”
Perry hated having to concentrate so he could focus on the print that glared up at him. The large headline and subtitles underneath were enough to kick-start his brain into high gear-and create a dull headache, which started throbbing as his blood pressure soared.
“Fuck me, bitch,” he grumbled, downing the rest of his coffee. The burn down his esophagus did nothing to distract the headache that grew in intensity by the moment. “This is this morning’s paper?”
Carl must have viewed the question as rhetorical, since the date was right on the top of the page. “Not only does the fucking reporter dog the hell out of us-the prick-but look,” he growled, speaking faster as his temper became more apparent. He stabbed the newspaper with his index finger. “It says here they’re turning the case over to the FBI. We’re on this case, Flynn. I’ll be a goddamn monkey’s uncle if we’re pulled off this one, man. This is a doozy. We just need a few really good leads. Fucking reporter, what’s her name?” He started muttering in Spanish as he dragged his finger down the paper. “Hannah Oswald here announces to all of Kansas City and surrounding suburbs that the online predator could possibly be one of our own.”
Perry pushed himself away from his desk and refilled his cup. Carl followed him, ranting and raving, while Perry drank half of the cup, refilled it again, and then turned to meet his partner’s heated gaze.
“Let’s head downstairs and talk to Pinky. I don’t know who the hell leaked the news to the press, but if Peter is using one of our computers to stalk these girls, I want to know right now which computer he’s using in our station.” Suddenly a few things made sense, Rad’s behavior for one. But if the Chief believed Peter was a cop on the force, why didn’t he fill Perry in on that piece of info when he gave him the case?
If the motherfucker believed Perry was a suspect, he would hand the man’s head to him on a goddamn platter.
Pete Goddard and Franco joined Barker and Richey. Perry wasn’t sure which one of them spotted the newspaper on his desk, but the four of them started commenting on it and he watched each of them closely, focusing on Franco and Goddard. He didn’t see any reaction out of either one of them that could qualify as odd or suspicious. But then if a cop was abducting teenage girls and using the station to instigate his crime, the asshole would have balls of steel. He’d be cocky-arrogant enough to believe he could pull off horrendous crimes under everyone’s noses and not get caught. And so far, he’d been right.
Joseph Pinkman might have possibly invented computers and just stayed on the low about it. Fitting the profile of the classic geek to a T, Pinky glanced up from behind his monitor and pushed his wire-frame glasses up his nose when Perry rapped on the open door to Pinky’s office.
“I need you to solve a case for us, Pinky,” Perry said, entering the small room lined with filing cabinets and three desks, all smothered with mounds of paperwork. To the best of his memory, no one had worked in this office other than Pinky, but the extra desks had never been removed. Perry pulled the CD that he’d saved all the information he had so far on Peter out of the file folder he’d brought from home and handed it over to Pinky. “I need to know what computer our man is using to talk to the girls he’s abducted.”
“I’ve been playing around with that already this morning.” Pinky pulled the CD out of the case and slid it into his disk drive. “I’m assuming this is the online predator case? You two going to try and nab him before the FBI come in and take over?”
“Yes and yes,” Carl offered.
“This should be pretty simple.” Pinky started explaining how every computer had its own specific address and left a trail that was easy to trace. “Several computers are being used. Give me a minute.”
Perry walked around Pinky’s desk and stared at the computer while Pinky switched screens and clicked his mouse repeatedly until he found the page he wanted. Then pointing at his monitor with his long, skinny finger, he looked up at Perry and smiled.
“Now, match these numbers up to the ones we have on file,” he said, again flipping screens. “It’s one of the computers in the ‘pit.’ Hold on; I’ve got a diagram right here. Wait. This can’t be right.”
“What?” Perry’s headache was moving between his eyes. “Tell me.”
“It’s your computer, Perry.”
Chapter 19
“Give me one solid reason why I shouldn’t pull you off this case?” John Athey’s silver streak that ran through his brown hair looked more dominant this morning. He watched Kylie with cold steel blue eyes that didn’t blink. “You’re sleeping with our primary suspect.”
“He’s not a suspect.” She heard herself talk, knew the words coming out of her mouth weren’t enough to convince anyone she was thinking rationally. “I’ve got a meet lined up for tomorrow night. I’ll prove it to you.”
“What you’ll do is march into that station and pull Flynn in for questioning,” John retorted.
“I’m not going to do that.” She stared at her empty cup, willing the caffeine she’d consumed to kick in, and finally pushed away from the desk she’d been leaning on and headed toward the half-full pot of coffee sitting on the warmer in the corner of the meeting room. “If I blow my cover to the cops here in town there’s no way Peter will come out and meet me.”
Kylie had her back to John and the police chief while she blew on her fresh cup and organized her thoughts. “Take his hard drive,” she announced, thinking her plan through as she spoke. “The one at the station and his personal computer at home. You’ll see a man can’t be two places at once.”
“You’re going to confiscate these from him?” the Chief asked.
Kylie turned, seeing immediately the question was more of a challenge. “You know that isn’t possible,” she said coolly, matching Chief Radisson’s hard expression. Neither man knew she’d blown her cover with Perry. And she wouldn’t allow them to bluff any information out of her. “If you need proof that your man is innocent, you’re going to have to confiscate them yourself.”
There wasn’t enough coffee in the pot to wake her up this morning. If she was going to pull this dinner date with a bunch of attentive teenagers off tonight in any way, she needed to head home and get in a good nap. “I’m meeting with several teenagers tonight-”
“Flynn’s nieces,” John interrupted. “Getting cozy with his family.”
“And tomorrow night I have a date with Peter,” she continued, ignoring John’s comment. “I’ll have your arrest for you tomorrow night. Wait and see.” She took her opportunity to head for the door.
“If that is the case, then you really don’t need to keep this date tonight then, do you?” John asked.
“One of the girls I’m having dinner with tonight,” Kylie began, downplaying the fact they kept referring to it as
