Speak No Evil

die on him? Before he was done with her? It wasn’t fair!

He was breathing fast, too fast.

Calm down. Think.

He turned away from her body, looked at his hands. The skin across his knuckles was red and broken. Had he hit her that hard? Why didn’t he remember?

Think.

He had to get rid of her. As soon as possible. But not stupidly, he couldn’t be stupid about it. He was smart, he could think this through.

He had planned on dropping her someplace near her apartment after work tonight. But he had to get rid of her now. The thought of her, dead, in his bed until tonight made him ill. She had died without anything to stop her body from spreading its sick germs and fluids all over his stuff. The smell was awful, her urine and shit. Seeping into his mattress.

Damn bitch. She stole what was rightfully his-her life!

He had to wash the body, but it was getting late. Did he chance dumping her without a proper cleansing?

No, no, that would be dumb. He had to do it.

Jodi was heavy and he struggled. Sweat poured from his body, dripped onto hers. He was panicking, he felt it, knew it, could do nothing about it.

He ran the water over her body and left the bathroom to collect his thoughts.

Sitting heavily in his chair, he looked around. Okay, maybe things weren’t as bad as he feared. It was just the sheets he’d bought for her. His mattress, maybe he could buy a new one. Tomorrow morning, first thing. Burn this one. Yes, that was right, burn it. Good, good.

He collected all of Jodi’s clothing and bundled it in a garbage bag with the sheets and soiled blankets.

Deep breath. Calm. It hadn’t gone according to plan, but he was smart. He could improvise. As he worked through the new plan, his breathing evened out. He deliberately took time washing her body. Made sure anything that connected to him was gone. He used antibiotic ointment on his knuckles. He hoped no one noticed, but if they did he would have an excuse. Something believable.

He dried her off and branded her. Slut. Right across her breasts. Just like Angie.

Her body was stiff, hard to bend-it took some effort to force it into the bags. Tied them with rope. He was taking a chance driving her during the day, but he had to. The garage was behind the house, and trees partially obscured the yard from nosy neighbors. The old biddy with the cat on the right might be home, but she wouldn’t be able to see anything. On the left, the guy would have a view of the side garage door if he was at his kitchen window and looked way over to the left. But it didn’t look like he was home.

It was a risk. But it was always a risk. His heart beat mostly from exertion as he picked up Jodi’s body. Angie had been lighter, but he thought maybe because she’d only been dead for a few minutes when he’d put her in his trunk. Jodi’s body didn’t bend or move as easily, and he did contortions getting her out the back door and into the garage.

Inside, he took a minute to catch his breath. Okay, okay. Everything was fine. No one had seen him.

He put her in the trunk and left. He only had ten minutes to get to work, and he was going to be a little late.

He didn’t think anyone would notice.

TWENTY-THREE

PATRICK CALLED CARINA with an update on his efforts to locate Bondage and Scout through the MyJournal corporation. “We’re running in circles right now, but we’re getting somewhere. MyJournal dumped all the data on us-millions of bytes of data-and we’re going through it. We’re running a program that compares the data with the IP prefixes of the Shack’s network and the La Jolla library.”

“You’re talking nerd again,” Carina teased.

“Essentially, every computer connection has a unique IP number. Like a home address for computers-anyone in the country can find it. An ISP-Internet service provider-has a set of IP numbers that it assigns to its subscribers. The Shack and the library have one prefix, like an area code, and every connection in their network has a unique number. Individual computers, like Thomas’s, have a unique number assigned by their ISP. An ISP may have multiple prefixes, but no other ISP will share a prefix. For example, one company might have eight unique prefixes. No other company will have those prefixes.”

“I think I get it. So you’re telling me that you’re comparing the data and at some point you’ll get a match and know who sent Angie that message she deleted?”

He laughed. “I wish it were that easy! If we get a match to one of the Shack’s computer connections, for example, we’ll know which computer sent the message to Angie. If we get a match to the library, we’ll know that someone at the library sent the message. If someone logged onto the library’s network, we’ll be able to see that.”

“But we won’t know who.”

“True. But we have one more program running. We’re running the Bondage and Scout messages against all assigned IP addresses in southern California. If we get a hit there, we can get a warrant and obtain the personal data for that specific IP connection.”

“And that’ll lead us to his house?”

“If it’s a private account, like you have at your house, where you pay a fee to access the Internet. If it’s a public account, like the library, then you’ll be led to the library.”

“You’re giving me a headache.”

“I can find out where they sent the message from. Then it’s up to you.”

“Thanks, Patrick. Did Kyle Burns contact you about the Shack’s computers?”

“Yes, I’m good to go with them. When I finish setting up the programs to run I’m going to take my team and go on-site.”

“Great.”

“One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“I inspected the webcam Gage found at Jodi Carmichael’s apartment.”

“And?”

“It has a wireless connection. The end user would be able to log onto the frequency and see whatever it was aimed at. Gage thought it was motion activated, but it’s not. It’s always on.”

“Can you trace it?”

“I wish. If he was logged onto the frequency, I could trace it. But it’s like a one-way street-he knows the access codes and can view the stream. The stream isn’t being sent anywhere. The battery has a seventy-two-hour life. I tested it and there’s about twenty hours of juice left.”

Carina thought back. “Which means he was in Jodi’s apartment sometime on Wednesday.”

“Yes.”

“Can you put it back?”

“You think he’s going to go for Abby?”

“I don’t know, but maybe next time he logs onto the computer his computer will try to access the stream or something.”

“I think that’s unlikely, but I can put it back.”

“No prints?”

“None. And there’s nothing unique about it. He could have bought it anywhere. There’s a serial number and we’re tracing it, but all it’ll tell us is what distributor had the unit.”

“Dammit.”

“Be careful, Carina. I’ll call you when I know anything.”