Predator

by Terri Blackstock

  Despite Ryan’s defense of Ian, she couldn’t escape the feeling that he could be the killer. There was one way to find out. She got her laptop, did a search for Ian Lombardi, and found a recent picture of him. She copied it and put it on her computer’s desktop, where she could find it again easily. Then she headed to the police station to show it to Megan.

  Megan’s eyes were swollen from crying. Though her bruises were healing and weren’t as dark, her face was still discolored and disfigured by stitches that hadn’t quite dissolved.

  They let Krista into the interview room, where the two of them sat while the detectives worked on finding out where the text had originated. Again they said it was a disposable phone, difficult to trace to an owner.

  When the detectives had left the room, Krista opened her laptop, pulled up the picture of Ian. “Megan, I have someone that I suspect could have done these crimes. Could this be the one who attacked you?”

  She turned her laptop around, and Megan looked. There was no change in her eyes, no recognition on her face.

  “Megan, is that him?”

  Megan burst into tears. “No.”

  Krista frowned. “Are you sure? Absolutely positive?”

  “Yes, I’d remember that face anywhere. It wasn’t him.”

  Krista breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that Ryan’s best friend wasn’t to blame for Megan’s attack. But this stalker clearly had access to GrapeVyne. He’d read Megan’s emails to her friends, gotten her phone number off of those private postings.

  He could still be someone who worked in the company. Maybe they were getting closer.

  When the police let Megan go, Krista gave her a ride back to her dorm. When they got there, Megan sat still for a moment. “I think I’m going to have to withdraw from school.” Her voice shook as she stared at the wall between the parking lot and the door to the building. “My parents were right. I just can’t do this.”

  “I know, Megan. It’s hard. And I don’t want to counsel you to be brave and courageous. Lord knows, I’ve done that enough, without a clue what I was talking about.” Her voice broke off. “Pretty lame thing for someone whose life is as easy as mine was, to tell someone who lives in mortal fear every day of their lives. This morning when I almost got killed, I didn’t feel strong or courageous. I just wanted to run away. So I don’t blame you if you go home. At least then you’d be miles away, and it wouldn’t be so easy for the killer to track you.”

  Megan wiped the tears under her eyes. “I don’t even want to spend the night here tonight. I’m so scared.”

  “You can stay with me.”

  Megan shook her head. “No offense, Krista, but I don’t think you’re any safer than I am. Not after what happened today. I’ll be all right tonight. I’ll pack up, and I won’t leave the dorm. Then hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to fly home.”

  “Let me take you to the airport,” Krista said.

  “Sure. My friends will all be in class, anyway. It would be really sad to have to say good-bye to them. In fact, I may not tell them I’m leaving. I might just leave a note.”

  “That’s probably the best thing,” Krista said. “Then word won’t get back to the killer until you’re gone.”

  “I deleted my GrapeVyne account. I’ll have to find another way to keep in touch with my friends.”

  “There’s this new invention called the telephone.”

  Megan didn’t manage a smile. She opened the door, got her crutches out of the backseat, and started toward the building. Krista got out and walked her to the door. When Megan was inside, Krista went back to her car and sat in it, staring through the windshield. Her father had asked her not to go back on television. She wouldn’t violate her promise to him. But she could save lives another way. She could meet the guy who was stalking her online. Stand face-to-face with him. Get a picture.

  She opened her glove box, checked to make sure her gun was where she’d put it.

  If this was taken care of tonight, then Megan wouldn’t have to go home. Her goals wouldn’t be put on hold. The impact the killer had had on her life would remain, but at least she could try to move forward.

  Krista went and parked at a coffee shop that had wireless Internet, opened her laptop, and pulled up Maxi’s GrapeVyne account. Typing rapidly, she sent Steven an email.

  Great news! I can get to the Highland Village Mall this afternoon at 4:00. How about we meet in front of the Jambo Juice at the food court?

  She waited, breath held. In minutes, his reply came through, even though he was supposed to be in school.

  Sounds great. Can’t wait to meet you and see if you’re as gorgeous as you sound.

  Her heart raced as she typed back:

  I’m assuming you look like your picture. So I’ll recognize you, right?

  He wrote back,

  Sure. I’ll have a red bandanna sticking out of my back pocket just in case. And I’m wearing a light blue Polo shirt today.

  A red bandanna. That would be the sign.

  Steven asked:

  How will I know you? I can’t tell that much from your picture.

  She wrote:

  I’ll be wearing a pink top.

  She closed her laptop, checked her watch. It was only an hour and a half away. This thing could be over tonight.

  Or she could be in more trouble than she ever dreamed.

  She thought of calling Megan back and asking her to go with her so she could identify the killer if he was anywhere on the premises. But seeing her would make him flee. Besides, it was too much to ask of the girl. No, she would do it herself.

  Be strong and courageous.

  In her heart, she felt she would know when she laid eyes on the man who’d murdered her sister.

  Fifty

  Krista pulled into a space in the mall parking lot and sat staring at her face in the mirror. She looked nothing like the profile picture she’d posted of Maxi Greer. If Steven were in fact the killer, he wouldn’t be looking for her. He’d be looking for the young, stupid girl who’d broadcast how lonely she was and how often she was alone, and agreed to meet a stranger at the mall. So if they were both frauds…then she wouldn’t see Steven.

  Would the killer recognize her as being Ella’s sister?

  She put on her sunglasses and pulled her hair up into a ponytail, hoping she wouldn’t look familiar to him. She put her phone on camera mode, ready to take a picture of whoever appeared to be waiting for her.

  Her throat went dry, and she thought of her sister fighting for her life, being beaten and raped and dragged into a shallow grave. She thought of Ella lying there for days, weeks, before she was found.

  Her stomach burned at the thought of going in there alone. She opened her glove compartment again, slipped the gun into her purse.

  She locked the car and started toward the entrance where the food court was. She was a little early, so she bought a drink and fries. She sat down at a table in a cluster of people, and pretended to be texting. Behind her sunglasses, her eyes scanned the crowd for evil. As four o’clock approached, she began to sweat.

  And then she saw him come in. It was Steven, the boy in the GrapeVyne profile. He looked just like his picture.

  Her heart sank. He was real.

  He was around five-eight, and had the same little soul patch under his lip that the kid in the pictures had. He went to the counter, bought a Jambo Juice, then turned and leaned back against a wall, watching everyone who came in.

  So this wasn’t the killer. He wasn’t a fraud at all. She was the fraud, using GrapeVyne to lure him.

  This was wasted time. She got her purse, dumped her wrappers and cup into the trash, then left.

  As she got into her car, she plotted bolder ways of drawing the killer out. She would have to get more aggressive.

  Fifty-one

  It was Krista Carmichael. He might have known.

  From where he stood in line at the most popular vendor in this despicable food court, he saw the boy who was here to me
et the lovely homeschooled Maxi. But she hadn’t shown. As he’d waited for her himself—a wonderful potential next victim—he saw the blonde sitting at a table alone.

  He’d recognized her immediately as Krista Carmichael, though she looked like she’d made an attempt to disguise herself. Had she been the person behind Maxi Greer’s persona?

  Could she have been baiting him?

  He had to chuckle to himself as he got his drink. When he turned back around, the boy still stood there, waiting for someone who would never come. Krista got up and did the good citizen routine, throwing out her trash. Then she walked out.

  Adjusting his own sunglasses, he followed her out. He was parked several rows over from her, but he watched as she got into her car and sat there for a moment, staring at nothing. Finally, she pulled out of her space.

  He followed her at a distance, gleeful that he had this chance. Ella had delighted him. Her sister might even be more fun.

  Fifty-two

  Morning had the feel of danger. Ryan had made the decision to go on television without Krista, risking lawsuit and another attack to expose GrapeVyne and Willow. Lives were at stake.

  But NBC had agreed to keep his appearance quiet until he was on the air. Ryan had hired an armed escort to go with him to the TV station—two black SUVs like in the president’s motorcade, with linebacker types who were fully armed.

  As they followed the same route he’d taken yesterday, Ryan kept looking in his rearview mirror, making sure there had been no security breach. When he got to the NBC affiliate, he was greeted enthusiastically and quickly ushered back to the makeup room. Ryan had done this dozens of times before. Normally he was cool and calm, talking about GrapeVyne’s popularity and stock bursts, but today he was nervous. He didn’t know how much time they were allotting him, how fast he would need to talk, what questions they were going to ask to drive the interview.

  When the makeup lady had finished prepping him, Ryan saw a man approaching him in a suit and tie. “Mr. Adkins?”

  Ryan extended his hand to shake. “Yeah, how you doing?”

  The man didn’t smile. “I’m George Barnett from Barnett and Lewis Law Firm.” He handed him a large envelope. “You’re being officially served.”

  Ryan looked down at the envelope as the man walked away. “Well, here we go.” Opening it, he pulled the papers out.

  “What is that?” the makeup lady asked.

  “It’s a lawsuit that GrapeVyne has filed to shut me up.”

  “Oh no.”

  He scanned the page, saw the amount of damages. A hundred million dollars. The exact amount for which he’d sold the company.

  It was a ploy, he thought. A warning. If he cancelled the interview and didn’t talk, they’d leave his money alone…and maybe his life. But if he didn’t…he stood to lose it all for defamation, commercial disparagement, and half a dozen contract violations.

  “Do we need to tell them you can’t do the interview?” the makeup lady asked.

  For a moment, he thought of taking off the lapel mike they’d already put on him, and walking right back out of there. But then his thoughts returned to Ella Carmichael, Karen Anders, Megan Quinn…Krista.

  He thought of the bloodthirsty killer out there using his invention as an evil tool.

  He thought of the board of directors who were illegally gathering way too many facts about the clients of GrapeVyne. He thought of the attempt on his life.

  And he decided it was worth it to take them down. If he lost everything he had…well, so be it.

  Be strong and courageous.

  “No,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

  His face burned as they put him on the set under the lights, and linked him into the Today Show. He watched the monitor and waited stiffly for Matt Lauer to introduce him.

  When he was finally on the air, Matt started by asking Ryan about the accident. “Ryan, on your way to your interview with us yesterday, you and Krista Carmichael, our other guest, were in a pretty bad accident.”

  “It was no accident,” Ryan said.

  “Is it true that someone deliberately ran you off the road and shot at you?”

  “Yes, that’s true.”

  “And that your house was later burned down?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Any idea who would do this?”

  “Someone who didn’t want me to talk to you about my firing, or the things happening at GrapeVyne.”

  “Well, let’s get to that. You received quite a blow two days ago when your board of directors gave you a pink slip. Can you tell us a little bit about why you were let go?”

  Ryan cleared his throat. “We had a little difference of opinion about some policy matters at GrapeVyne. I was concerned about the online predators that use the site, and the number of missing persons across the country who were lured into danger by people they met online. I wanted to put some more security measures in place to protect our clients and educate the public. They felt I was calling too much attention to the problems with the community, so they decided to replace me. Then someone tried to kill me.”

  “Are you suggesting the GrapeVyne board of directors was behind that?”

  “I’m just stating what happened to me, not casting blame. But just before this interview I was served with papers for a lawsuit they’ve filed to keep me from talking to you.”

  “A lawsuit? Who filed it?”

  “The board of directors of GrapeVyne Corporation.”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed. “What’s the amount of the lawsuit?”

  “A hundred million dollars.”

  “Why a hundred million?”

  “It’s the exact amount they paid me for the purchase of the company.”

  Matt looked like he’d just uncovered the story of the century. “Ryan, what has made this such an important issue to you, that you’d literally risk your life and fortune to come talk to us today?”

  “Because five weeks ago a fourteen-year-old girl named Ella Carmichael was beaten, raped, and buried alive. The killer found her through her frequent GrapeVyne posts. Not long after she was found, another Houston GrapeVyne client was attacked, and her roommate was murdered. Police believe it’s the same assailant. He’s still out there, and I want people to understand that everything they post on GrapeVyne can be used to lead predators to them.”

  “Do you think the GrapeVyne killer is the one who tried to kill you and Krista yesterday?”

  He hesitated. “It seems like two separate events to me, Matt. But the police are looking into the connections, if any.”

  “Ryan, do you feel responsible for the deaths of these girls, since you created GrapeVyne?”

  “It was never our intention to create a tool for predators, and honestly, every social networking site has the same issues. None of us ever wanted to see our members dying.”

  “But aren’t you afraid of losing your fortune because you’re speaking out?”

  Ryan paused, and realized that the money was incidental. “This message is more important than my bank account.”

  “So what is it that you would like for people to do?”

  “Examine their social networks and take down everything they’ve posted that they wouldn’t want a murderous predator to see. Don’t post where you are, ever. Don’t post where you live, or your school, or your town, or your church. Don’t post pictures that identify places, like colleges or schools or particular teams you might be on. Never post your work schedule or your activities or your travel plans. And don’t flood the site with pictures of yourself. You have no idea how much information a predator can get from those pictures.”

  “Well, we thank you for coming on with us today, Ryan. We wish you well and hope that millions of our viewers will pay more attention to what they’re doing online.”

  “Thanks, Matt.”

  The link was cut off, and the affiliates turned the bright lights off. The stage manager crossed the set to take off Ryan’s mike. “That’s chilling,” she sai
d. “I’m going home and taking down every personal posting on my GrapeVyne account today.”

  “Good.” At least one person’s life might be saved. Sweating, Ryan stepped off the set and picked up the envelope he’d set in a chair. He pulled out the papers again. Unbelievable.

  His phone vibrated on his belt, and he pulled it out and glanced down. The Caller ID said ABC News. Already the other networks wanted to interview him. He might as well go for broke.

  Fifty-three

  So Steven was who he said he was. He obviously wasn’t the killer, so Krista had spent the night studying the new Friends coming to Maxi’s site, taking copious notes on any red flags that were raised. He was here somewhere. She knew it.

  The police had ruled out all the friends Ella and Megan had in common, so those were dead-ends.

  Systematically, she Friended everyone on her sister’s Friends List. Some of them wouldn’t bite—the ones who’d heard her speak at school the other day would know better than to accept a stranger. But the killer was there for sure, and how could he resist another young, vulnerable girl? Surely he would come.

  Dozens of people had accepted her Friend request, giving her lots to work with. But it was slow-going. She went to each of their sites and read everything they’d ever posted, studied all their pictures and videos, articles they’d shared, their own lists of friends.

  Even after hours of work, she was no closer to identifying the killer. Why had she thought she could do a better job than the police?

  She had taken a break only to get a couple of hours’ sleep, then got up to watch Ryan on the Today Show. His boldness lifted her spirits, especially after he’d been served with a lawsuit. His sacrifices for this cause astonished her.