Guilty as Sin

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Guilty as Sin Page 9

by Jami Alden


  He and Kate exchanged quick greetings while Tommy worked his way back through the chat log archives.

  “What is this site, anyway?” CJ said as he read an exchange Tricia had with another person three months ago. “ ‘My dad is so messed up. Sometimes I wish he was the one who died. Not because I don’t love him but because I think Mom could have handled it better,’ ” he read, frowning.

  “It’s a chat room for kids whose parents have died,” Kate said, her voice tight. “Tricia started going on there about seven months ago, a couple of months after her mother died.” She looked to Tommy for confirmation.

  They were quiet for the next several minutes as they read through Tricia’s cyberconversations. After her initial posts, she interacted primarily with two different users.

  Mari1999’s profile said she was a fifteen-year-old from Nashville whose father had died last year. Coldust20 was a seventeen-year-old boy from Miami whose mother had committed suicide eighteen months ago.

  To Tommy, the conversations, while sometimes heartbreaking, looked harmless. “I’ll get their IP addresses to make sure they check out,” he said, “but none of this strikes me as a predator posing as a lure.”

  Kate nodded. “Usually in cases of online stalking, the sexual innuendo escalates pretty rapidly. And usually you’ll see requests to meet in real life happen quickly if that’s the predator’s end game.”

  “Isn’t that always the end game?” CJ asked.

  “No,” Kate said. Though her voice was soft, there was no disguising the note of disgust. “Some sick freaks get a thrill from the interaction, imagining the underage girl or boy on the other side of the conversation while they describe deviant sexual acts or send them explicit pictures and videos.”

  Revulsion tightened Tommy’s stomach. “Jesus, I’ve seen some bad places and bad people, but I can’t imagine how sick you have to be to get off on something like that.”

  “There are people so sick you almost believe they’re another species, not even human,” Kate said, her eyes flashing with emotions. And she was determined to hunt down every single one. Tommy could see it in her face, in the way her soft mouth pulled into a tight line, in the set of her shoulders. In the way she seemed to cast off the horrible images that were no doubt flooding her mind and focused on the task at hand, motioning him to continue scrolling through the logs.

  Tommy felt an unwelcome tug of admiration in his gut. Sure, he’d admired the way she’d given herself to a cause she was passionate about. But his opinion had always been colored by their past, by the way she’d turned her back on him to save her family from a scandal.

  Wealthy, snobbish, image conscious. Though he couldn’t deny that Kate had helped a lot of children and a lot of families, a small, petty voice had always whispered that she’d become the spokesperson for St. Anthony’s for her own selfish reasons. To keep up a positive image of herself as a do-gooder and boost her family’s profile by association.

  To help wash away the stain of the guilt she no doubt felt about the night Michael was murdered.

  Even if all that did play into her motivation, he couldn’t deny that Kate was far more than just a talking head, the pretty mouthpiece they trotted out onto the TV shows to help boost press coverage for a case. If Tricia’s case was anything to go by, she dug into every single case with dedication and tenacity.

  And she didn’t shy away from the gory realities of what the victims were subjected to.

  Kate was tough. It wasn’t a word he ever would have imagined using to describe her. Certainly not the beautiful but reserved teenager he’d been so determined to coax out of her shell.

  And not the girl he’d seen after Michael died, broken down, teetering on the brink of destruction from her brother’s death and her family’s accusations.

  Kate hadn’t just grown up, she’d grown strong. She would have had to, dealing day in, day out with the victims, sharing the soul-numbing grief of the families.

  And, he thought, recalling the earlier news report, dealing with the guilt when things went horribly wrong.

  Great. Now on top of everything else, you’re starting to admire her. As if it wasn’t enough that the inexplicable chemical reaction his body had to her was as intense now as it had been at nineteen.

  “Tommy?” Her voice snapped him out of his daze. His eyes locked on hers, and he realized he’d been staring at her for who knew how many seconds, leaving Tricia’s conversation with Mari1999 up for far longer that it would have taken her and CJ to read it.

  Tommy quickly paged to the next screen. He cleared his throat, hoping his olive complexion hid the fact that he was blushing like a goddamn schoolgirl.

  Nearly an hour later, CJ started pacing around the room. “If someone was cyberstalking her, it sure as shit wasn’t through this forum,” he said. “I say we move on. Read back through her emails, go back over her Facebook—”

  “Wait,” Kate said, and Tommy’s finger stilled over the mouse.

  The room was silent as they read through a three-page-long conversation between Tricia and a user they didn’t recognize. It was from five days ago.

  “That’s a new friend,” Tommy said.

  “Scroll back, see when the first contact was made.”

  “A week ago.” Moto98 had joined the bulletin board that day and immediately tried to start off a conversation with Tricia and her friends.

  “The day after Jackson and the girls got here,” Tommy said. The conversation was innocent enough, as Moto98 introduced himself as a fifteen-year-old from Boulder whose father had recently died of leukemia. There was nothing in the conversation to make Tommy suspect he wasn’t who he claimed to be, but he couldn’t deny that tingling feeling between his shoulders, that strange gut instinct that told him something just wasn’t right.

  He continued to read as the new member tried to engage Tricia. Not that she had taken to the new friendship immediately. After a few polite exchanges, Tricia continued her lengthy exchanges with her regular crew, with Moto98 interjecting occasionally, only to be ignored. At one point, Tricia and Coldust20 pointedly excused themselves to go chat privately.

  The new guy didn’t push it but continued to follow Tricia’s conversations and comment over the next couple of days. Then, five days ago, Moto98 made a comment about how his older brother was being a total dick, partying all the time and not even seeming to care that their mother had just died.

  At that, Tricia unleashed the floodgates, telling him how awful her sister had been to her, especially in the last week since their father made them go to some dumb lake house in Idaho so they could bond.

  My dad is so clueless. Like forcing us to leave our friends is going to make us actually like each other.

  The conversation ended abruptly, as Tricia wrote Speaking of, I gotta bail because bitchface just got home from the lake. Can’t let her catch me on here—not after I left my computer logged in here and she put a bunch of stuff on Facebook.

  “That’s cold.” Tommy winced.

  “Sounds like typical big-sister behavior,” CJ said with a shrug. “Kelly used to torture the hell out of me,” he said with a wistful half smile.

  “I remember the time she pantsed you in the middle of Derek Swanson’s birthday party,” Tommy replied, and felt a pang of sadness for the beautiful, wild young woman who loudly claimed that getting knocked up was the best thing that ever happened to her.

  “Lucky for you she didn’t have Facebook or Twitter to share the pictures with the entire planet,” Kate said as she continued to read down. “ ‘She still snoops, but I know better than to leave anything for her to find,’ ” Kate read aloud.

  “That explains the shredder program for deleted files,” Tommy said.

  The last conversation with Moto98 was on Thursday evening, the night she disappeared.

  I hate being here, Tricia complained. And get this. I met a guy at the beach yesterday—his name is Ben and he is OMG so hot. Like that guy from Vampire Diaries but with blue eyes.
And he was totally flirting with me! And then you-know-who comes along with her boobs practically falling out of her bathing suit—she was wearing the one I told you about, the one where the bottom practically goes up her ass crack, the one Mom never would have let her buy, much less actually wear. So anyway, yeah, she shows up, flipping her hair like she’s having a seizure, and next thing I know Ben’s practically got drool running down his chin. He’s going to be here in like five minutes to take her to one of those dumb bonfire parties they have all the time. And I’m going to spend the night here on the computer all night like a loser.

  Who are you calling a loser? ;-)

  Sorry. You know what I mean. At home I have friends, stuff to do. Before, I didn’t want to go out and do anything, but now I want to be with people.

  So go out.

  Right, I’m going to just go wander the streets and try to find a friend.

  No, dummy, go to the party.

  I can’t go. My sister will kill me.

  Who gives a shit if your sister gets mad? Wait, I’ve got it. You wait till she leaves, and then you put on the sluttiest thing you can find and you go to that bonfire and give that man-stealing bitch a run for her money. :) :):) :)

  OMG, I totally should!

  “And that’s exactly what she did,” Kate said softly.

  Tommy felt like a boulder had settled in his stomach.

  “You think he targeted her?” CJ asked.

  “We won’t know until I go back through the chat logs and get a lock on Moto98’s location when the conversations took place. But this is all looking a little too coincidental to me,” Tommy replied.

  “Check to see if he’s been on the board since that night,” Kate said, her voice tight.

  A few quick keystrokes was all it took to verify that he hadn’t. Tommy’s mouth pulled tighter. “It’s going to take me awhile to get into the accounts and figure out where that user was when these conversations took place.”

  “How long?” Kate pushed.

  “Depends. If we’re really dealing with a calculated predator who knows anything about covering his tracks, could be several hours at least.”

  Kate rubbed a weary hand over her face. “I don’t know if I can last that long.” The words had barely left her mouth before her stomach let out soft roar.

  “You eat anything today?” CJ asked.

  Kate’s brow furrowed and she looked up at the ceiling as she went back through the day.

  “I think I had a piece of toast before I went to the airport this morning,” Kate said after several seconds.

  “I need to talk to Jackson about this,” CJ said. “Why don’t you come with me and afterward we’ll grab a bite.”

  Kate nodded and rose from her chair.

  “I should go with you,” Tommy said, rising too. “Jackson will want to know all the details—”

  “And as the lead investigator on this case, I think I’m capable of giving him the information,” CJ said. Though they’d known each other most of their lives and had always been friendly, there was no missing the challenge in the sheriff’s voice.

  Tommy struggled to keep the bite out of his reply. “He might ask some technical questions that may be beyond the skill set of a county sheriff.”

  “I might have only spent two years there, but I think the FBI gave me a better foundation than most guys in my position. I appreciate your help with this, Tommy, I really do, but I can’t have you inserting yourself into every aspect of this case.” So back the fuck off. No misreading the subtext there.

  Even as he told himself it wasn’t worth it to get into a pissing match, Tommy felt his chest spread, his stance widening as he squared up against CJ.

  “Neither CJ nor I have the ability to get into the user information,” Kate said, flicking her glance nervously between the men, tuned into the tension fogging the room. “So it makes more sense for you to keep digging while we talk to Jackson, right?”

  “Right,” Tommy said. Of course she was right. But that still didn’t take the sting out of watching her head for the door, CJ at her side.

  And it damn sure didn’t keep his hands from clenching into fists at the way CJ guided her to the front door with a proprietary hand on her back and the way Kate seemed to have no problem with it.

  Kate paused before she stepped out the door, looking over her shoulder as she asked, “You’ll let us know as soon as you find out anything?”

  “Of course,” Tommy replied. He should have been proud of himself for keeping his voice neutral, his expression impassive.

  Instead, as he watched CJ walk her to her car, say something that made her smile as he opened her door and got her settled inside, he was disgusted with himself and the wave of resentment he couldn’t keep at bay.

  “What was up with that?” Kate asked after Tommy shut his heavy wooden door behind them with enough force for her to feel the vibration in the poured-concrete steps.

  CJ shook his head with a grimace and guided her down the walkway, his hand resting companionably on her shoulder. “Tommy’s a great guy, and I really do need his help, especially with this computer shit. But he needs to back off.”

  “From what I remember Tommy’s pretty forceful,” Kate said, flashing back to the way he’d pursued her years ago. “A lot about him seems to have changed since I saw him last, but not that.”

  “No, he’s still about as subtle as a battering ram.” CJ grinned.

  Kate couldn’t help but return the grin as she climbed into her rental. As she followed CJ out of the gate, she couldn’t help thinking there was something more than standard male posturing going on. Though Tommy had become a master at keeping his thoughts from showing on his face, Kate could feel a subtle shift in the room when she and CJ started to leave.

  Together.

  It wasn’t anything major, a sharpening of his features, of the energy coming from his big, broad body. An electric crackle that something was going on that he didn’t like.

  Almost like he was jealous.

  Jesus, Kate, get over yourself, she thought, and tried to convince herself the idea didn’t thrill her a little.

  Maybe you had a little moment back there, but that doesn’t mean Tommy gives two shits if you go off with CJ or anyone else.

  Not to mention, you have far more important things to worry about. Tommy was probably just concerned for his friend and client. No doubt he felt responsible, not just because of their relationship, but because they’d come to visit at Tommy’s suggestion. Kate understood all too well how that overdeveloped sense of responsibility could make you want to be involved at every level, take in every detail as it unfolded, whether that was the most useful way to spend your time or not.

  Whatever frustration he felt, she was flattering herself if she thought it had anything to do with any lingering spark on his part.

  Twenty minutes later, Kate parked her car behind CJ’s cruiser in Jackson Fuller’s driveway. Tracy answered the door. “I’d ask if there was any news, but I’m sure Jackson would be the first to hear if there were.”

  CJ nodded. “Nothing substantial, but we wanted to give Jackson a quick update on the search efforts.” Tricia’s online activity needed to be kept out of the press for now.

  Tracy motioned them toward the office. “I’m heading out now, but there’s lasagna in the oven and a salad to go with it. If you could convince Jackson and Brooke to eat some of it, you’d be doing them a great service.”

  Kate followed CJ down the hall, and as she passed the kitchen the mouthwatering aroma of the lasagna made her stomach lurch with hunger.

  “Maybe we should have stopped for a sandwich on the way,” CJ said with a smile as he raised his hand to knock on the closed door.

  He opened the door when summoned. Jackson stood in the middle of the room, in front of the window facing the lake. The late-afternoon light shadowed his blunt features, making him look more haggard than he had just a few hours ago.

  They sat down and CJ quickly explained
what they’d discovered in Tricia’s deleted files.

  Jackson buried his face in his hands. “Jesus, Tommy offered to put spyware on the girls’ computers and phones ages ago. My wife was against it—she didn’t think it was right to invade their privacy. And now this sicko was tracking her—”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” CJ broke in. “The conversations themselves aren’t suspicious, but we’ll know more once Tommy is able to ID the computer address and the network.”

  Jackson’s mouth tightened into a grim line. “So it’s either a break in the case or nothing,” he said, frustration making his voice tight. “Goddamn it, when are you going to come to me with something real?” His fist crashed down on a side table, sending the chess board that had been set up there crashing to the floor.

  “I know it’s frustrating,” Kate said. “And I wish we could give you more answers, but we thought it was important to let you know what we’ve found out so far.”

  “Right,” Jackson said tightly. “It’s just driving me crazy, not knowing. After I left you I drove clear to Coeur D’Alene and stopped at every store and gas station in between to put up flyers and see if anyone had any information. But it’s like we’re just spinning our wheels and she’s still out there—”

  His voice broke and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears. Kate felt her own eyes burn in sympathy as she crossed to him and placed her hand on his arm. Under his skin, she could feel the muscles vibrating with effort to hold his emotions in check. She wanted to tell him to let go, that it was okay to break down.

  But she sensed that like the man Tommy had become, Jackson Fuller wasn’t one to give free rein to his emotions, especially not in front of an audience.

 

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