Web of Deceit

by Susan Sleeman

  “Not yet,” Jae said. “But you’re looking at the list of all of his victims. Looks like he role-played Kait’s death with each of them in WoW.”

  “How do you know?” Sam asked sounding skeptical.

  “I looked at the individual stats of each AgentOfDoom character. The date each character was last seen in the game is the same day one of Rhodes’s victims died.” Jae tapped the bottom AgentOfDoom name. “This one corresponds with New Mexico’s death.” She moved up the screen and tapped the next one. “Minneapolis.” She continued to move up the list. “Denver. Salt Lake City, Congdon, Youngblood, and the one we just saw. The last two are still active and might still be alive.”

  Kait squeezed Jae’s shoulder. “Amazing work, Jae. He played in all these guilds, but you found the connection.”

  Sam frowned. “Give us the address for each guy, and we’ll track Rhodes that way.”

  Jae’s hand dropped to her side. “Sorry. I don’t have access to private accounts, so I don’t have their addresses. I’ll need a warrant to obtain that information.”

  Sam came to his full height, resolve burning in his eyes. “Then get one, and let’s find him. And while you’re at it, get one for Rhodes’s credit card information, too.”

  “We’ll request it,” Nina said. “But there’s no way Rhodes was sloppy enough to give WoW any legit information.”

  “What about the IP address or whatever you call that thingy that tells us where he logs onto the Internet?” Sam asked, surprising Kait that he was the one to bring up technology.

  Nina shook her head. “By the time we get any actionable information, he’ll be long gone.”

  “But we have to do something, or he’s going to kill the others.” Sam swung his gaze to Kait.

  She focused on her dead avatar look-alike and couldn’t dispute Sam’s logic. There were two more guys on Fenton’s list, and then they had to assume he was coming for her.

  THE CONFERENCE room walls closed in on Sam. The nasty, irritating smell of burnt microwave popcorn clung to the air, and the atmosphere in the war room had grown more tense—if that was possible—after seeing Kait’s look-alike falling to the ground. He’d expected to see blood oozing from her body, but at least they were spared that sight.

  Needing water, Sam started to get up, but paused when a woman he didn’t recognize stepped into the room.

  “Why the long faces?” she asked.

  “Becca!” Kait jumped to her feet and hurried across the room.

  Ah, the missing cyber crimes team member.

  “The three of them are inseparable,” Jae said as she packed up her laptop. “They sometimes let me tag along, but it’s hard to get into the inner sanctum. Not that I’m jealous or anything, but if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking about Kait, good luck.”

  Sam ignored her comment, and, as he waited for an introduction, he watched the trio. All three were tall, nearly six feet, but that’s where the similarity ended. Nina was all curves. Kait, long and lean, moved with grace, and then there was that very regal posture. Becca was muscular, tomboyish, with no makeup. She wore jogging shorts, a Portland FBI T-shirt, and had blond hair scraped back in a ponytail.

  Jae slung her computer case over her shoulder and stopped next to the women. “Let me know when the warrant comes in with the names from WoW, and I’ll run their backgrounds.”

  “Thanks.” Kait smiled at Jae. “We couldn’t have done this without you.”

  Sam stepped up to them. “This isn’t done until we bring Rhodes in, so don’t start celebrating yet,” he said, hoping Kait hadn’t pinned her hopes on this lead. Sure, it was a good one, but his years on the job told him good leads could evaporate quickly.

  Becca turned and gave him a quick once-over. “You must be the detective I’ve heard so much about.” She stuck out her hand. “I’m Becca Lange.”

  Surprised Kait would have mentioned him, he glanced at her as he shook hands with Becca.

  Kait’s face colored. “We should get back to work.”

  Sam would have to be blind to miss her obvious avoidance of Becca’s comment, but he wouldn’t pursue it now.

  “What can I do to help?” Becca took a rigid stance and peered at Kait as if she was raring to go even at this late hour.

  “I was just about to tell Kait to get out of here,” Nina said, and quickly held up her hand. “And before you say no, Kait, even if we get the warrant tonight, it’s not likely we’ll receive any response from WoW until after their lawyers look at it in the morning.”

  Kait shook her head. “I’ll stay just in case.”

  Becca planted her hands on Kait’s shoulders. “No offense, Kait, but you look worn out. Nina and I will hold down the fort while you take a break. I’ll call you the second we get any information.”

  Kait’s shoulders sagged a fraction. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Nina faced Sam. “You are escorting Kait home again, right?”

  “Won’t let her out of my sight,” Sam replied, and though he knew Kait would balk at his need to hover over her, he’d be there by her side. Day and night, keeping her safe from the lowlife who remained out of their reach.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  KAIT STARED AT her plate. She usually loved Kung Pao Chicken, but the Chinese takeout sat untouched. Sam didn’t have the same problem. He’d powered through his food, and his plate was almost empty. They’d decided to have a casual meal in front of the TV for distraction, but Kait had paid little attention to the movie.

  She set her plate on the coffee table, tucked her feet up under her, and tried to figure out what was happening on the screen.

  Sam looked at her. “You’ve been quiet all through dinner.”

  “Just thinking,” she said.

  “Talking about whatever’s bothering you might clear your mind.” He watched her carefully. Intently. Like he was seeing her from the inside out. And, instead of feeling uncomfortable, she liked knowing he cared enough to want to understand.

  “Is it the World of Warcraft thing?” he went on. “I mean, I gotta admit it was kind of creepy seeing you killed, even if it was just an avatar.”

  She shook her head. “We’re finally getting close to locating Fenton, I can feel, it, you know? And that has me thinking about what will happen after we bring him in.”

  “You mean his trial?”

  “No, no. It’s . . . I’ve just . . . the last few years . . . revenge has kept me going. I never thought about what life would be like without that driving me.” She planted her hands firmly on her knees and forced herself to continue. “Then tonight, out of the blue, it hit me. I’d have my life back. No more living for someone else. So what might my life look like then?”

  “And?”

  “Other than Nina and Becca, I realized I’ve shut everyone else out.” Except you, she thought but didn’t say. “Without them and Lily, my life would be pretty empty.”

  “So you’re rethinking giving up Lily to your mom.”

  She nodded. “I’d be a fool to let her go. I should never have let Mom get to me. Maybe it was the stress. Or maybe I needed to spend the night away from Lily to see how much I’d miss her. I don’t know which, but I know I want to raise her. Not because of some promise made to Abby, but because I love her. Really love her. She brings meaning to my life.”

  “No offense to your mother, but thinking about breaking this kind of news to her would keep me from eating, too.” He grinned.

  “There’s that,” she said and smiled at him for a moment. “But I can handle my mom.”

  “Okay, so why can’t you eat, then?”

  She took a moment to take a drink of water and gather her thoughts. “I was so close to losing it when Abby died. Really losing it—like mental hospital losing it. So maybe I’ve used t
he hunt for Fenton to keep that from happening—from really grieving for Abby. You know what I mean? And once this is all over, I’ll fall apart.”

  “That’s not really something you can predict.” He shifted closer and took her hand.

  She sat for a moment, feeling the rough calluses on his fingers grazing hers, enjoying his touch, wishing she could let go of everything and move on. “I’m afraid I’ll totally collapse. Then what?”

  “Then you pick yourself up.” He moved closer. “It’s all natural. All about a process you have to go through.”

  “Still, after three years?”

  “There’s no expiration date for grief. We all have our timelines and ways of getting through it. You’ll just have to see what happens.” He squeezed her hand. “You’re strong, Kait. Exceptionally strong. Nothing in the last few days has bested you, and I know you can deal with anything.”

  She smiled her thanks at him and was rewarded with a sincere smile that lit up his face and captured her breath for a moment. “I figured if anyone got this, it’d be you. I mean, since you’re still not over losing your wife and all.”

  He twined his fingers with hers. “I’ll always miss Hannah, but after a solid year of counseling, I’ve made peace with the loss.”

  So he had gone to counseling. “Then why the sadness I see in your eyes all the time?”

  He let go of her hand and looked away, retreating as he always did.

  “Do I have to remind you, confiding is a two way street?” she asked, somewhat irritated.

  He looked back at her. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” He shrugged. “I’ve never told anyone about this.”

  “Trust me, with my issues, I’m in no place to judge.” She rested a hand on his knee for reassurance. “As someone said just a few minutes ago, tell me and maybe it’ll clear your head.”

  “You’re going to use my own words against me, huh?” A crooked grin washed the pain from his face.

  As much as she liked seeing him smile, she wouldn’t fall for his diversionary tactics. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

  “Fine. You asked for it.” He freed his hand and shoved it into his hair. “After Stacie died, I let all the questions of life and death get to me. You know what I mean? Those questions, like why her, why not me? What’s the point of living? Things like that, and I shut down.”

  “A normal reaction to death. I did the same thing.”

  “Maybe, but I didn’t deal with it. Instead, I let the problem escalate. So much so, that I shut Hannah out, and we had some problems. She couldn’t understand why I didn’t just snap out of it. I clammed up more.” He shook his head. “When she found out she was pregnant, she said I was emotionally bankrupt and in no frame of mind to raise a child.”

  His pain cut a knife through Kait’s heart. “That was kind of harsh.”

  “But true. I was bankrupt. Totally.” His face was tight with emotion. “But the thing is, once Hannah told me about Danny, I started to feel something. Like maybe he could give me back what I’d lost, you know? When things got rough, I hung onto that.”

  “And then she was killed.”

  “Yeah . . . I mean, not exactly.” He got up, went to the window, and stared out, when Kait knew all he could see was the wall of black reflecting from the glass. “I thought I’d made progress in our relationship—been there more for her. But the night she died, she told me I hadn’t changed enough. Couldn’t change enough. She said I had no business ever being a father, and she wanted a divorce.”

  Kait joined him, and at the completely exposed pain in his eyes, she realized how much she wanted to help him heal. Maybe heal herself at the same time. “It’s not true, you know. I’ve only spent a few days with you, but I saw you with Lily. I see you with Marcie and your co-workers and how you offered to help Mrs. Congdon. How gentle and patient you’ve been with me.” She pressed a hand over his heart. “You have a kind and generous heart, Sam, and any child would be happy to call you dad.”

  He locked eyes with her. “You’re just telling me what you think I want to hear.”

  “No, I’m not. I mean it.” She took his hand in hers. “All of it. If we were together, I’d be proud to have you as Lily’s father and to have your child.”

  He watched her, his eyes seeming to drink in everything about her.

  “You’re a good man, Sam Murdock, and it’s about time you know that.”

  He suddenly dropped her hand and slid his arms around her waist to pull her closer. Her heart thumped like a conga drum.

  “Kait,” he whispered and searched her eyes for a long moment before lowering his mouth toward hers.

  She should step away, run away. But suddenly, this thing between them felt right. His lips, warm and urgent settled on hers. Her body exploded with emotions long dormant, and time stood still as his lips caressed hers. He drew her even closer, and she slid her arms around his neck, clinging to him like a life preserver. Maybe he was her lifesaver—put in her life to bring her back from the brink of despair. Maybe she was supposed to bring him back, too.

  FENTON PARKED on the street behind Kait’s house and grabbed his binoculars from the backseat. Perfect. Everything was going according to plan. If you didn’t count the airline. No matter. It had all been rescheduled, and he’d soon be on his way to Mexico with Lily.

  But first, another delivery.

  He darted into the neighbor’s yard behind Kait’s house. The all-expense-paid vacation he’d given to the occupants as a bogus contest prize guaranteed they’d been cruising all week, and he had full run of their property. He climbed onto a small bench near the fence that abutted Kait’s backyard and pointed his binoculars at her picture window.

  “What in the world?” he whispered and blinked hard.

  The detective held her in his arms, kissing her as if he never intended to let her go.

  No! This was not in Fenton’s plan. How dare she enjoy a man’s touch when his one true love was buried?

  Abby, I miss you so much.

  He missed everything, but he especially missed kissing her. Her lips were so soft. Sweet. Like nectar. He wanted her here instead of Kait. Desperately. Not this temptress moving against the detective, making Fenton ache for Abby’s body pressed against his.

  “Abby,” he closed his eyes and whispered. “Are you there, sweetheart?”

  “Of course,” he heard her say.

  “Really there?”

  “Yes. You killed Kait, remember? She died on the field outside Stormwind. You vanquished her forever.”

  “You’re right, love.” He opened his eyes and looked through the binoculars. He rubbed his eyes and looked again, anger frothing up his throat.

  “Get your grubby mitts off my wife,” he snarled. “She’s mine. All mine.”

  No man kissed Abby and lived to tell about it. He climbed down and hurried to his vehicle, spotting the patrol car sitting out front of Kait’s house.

  Hah! The cop could sit there all night, and Fenton would still get to Kait. Didn’t they know by now that they couldn’t stop him?

  Wait. Kait. Kait was kissing the detective, not Abby, right?

  Seriously, he needed to get some sleep, but there was no time. He’d have to make do with energy drinks. He swigged the last of an open can then popped the trunk of J.J.’s Challenger and retrieved his rifle. He settled the ammo in the chamber, picturing the detective’s face with each slug he inserted.

  Better. He was feeling better already—even if this wasn’t exactly how he’d planned to leave the package for Kait. Rifle in hand, he grabbed the box, then returned to the neighbor’s backyard. He climbed up on the same bench facing Kait’s property and focused the binoculars.

  It was Kait with the detective. At least Fenton thought so.

  No matter. Either way, the detective needed to
die.

  Fenton jumped to the ground and removed fence boards he’d loosened earlier in the week. He slipped through the opening hidden behind tall bamboo stalks on Kait’s property and crept toward her deck. The closer he came to her picture window, the clearer he could see them and their sickening infatuation with each other. Fenton itched to pummel the detective, but Fenton wasn’t ready for Kait to see him.

  Not yet.

  He set the box under a bench built into the railing on Kait’s deck, then slid it forward for good measure.

  “There you go, Brian,” he whispered as he retreated. “Your contribution won’t be as meaningful as I had hoped—what with killing the detective and all, but it will still prove a point.”

  Back at the fence, he lifted the weapon and sighted it in. Perfect. He could get off a few good shots, then he’d have to hightail it out of there before the cop sitting sentry out front reacted.

  Now Fenton just needed the lovebirds to step apart and . . . bang. Life would end for one of them, and Kait’s grief would make her wish hers had ended as well.

  Chapter Thirty

  A GUNSHOT shattered the silence and pulverized the window. Glass peppered Sam’s neck as a lancing pain razored through his chest. Kait spun toward the window, a bewildered look on her face.

  Pop.

  Another bullet grazed his arm. The pain cut him to the quick, but he ground his teeth to fight it off and used his good arm to tackle Kait to the floor. He dragged her from the window and under the table.

  Another bullet whizzed overhead. The table exploded. Glass rained down on both of them, shards clinging to Kait’s hair and the folds in her clothing. She started to rise.

  “Stay down,” he commanded, covering her body as completely as possible.

  “Is that blood I feel on my back?” She tried to turn over, but he held her fast. “Are you hit?”

  “It’s just a scratch,” he said, though he felt his blood soaking his shirt. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long until he lost consciousness.

  Before he did, he had to ensure she was protected. He searched the room for his walkie-talkie. Spotted it a few feet away where it had landed after the table came crashing down. He couldn’t go for it or he’d leave Kait unprotected—the last thing he’d do.