by Lorie O
Perry pulled into a stall in the middle of the parking lot and turned off his car. Then getting out, he walked slowly past the few parked cars. At this hour, on a Monday night, business was slow and the few cars in the lot were parked in front of the donut shop or the bowling alley.
“Why aren’t you getting out of your car?” he asked, frowning when she remained shielded by the darkness in the far corner of the parking lot.
A black Suburban came at him with its brights on and Perry squinted, looking down but quickly returning his attention to Kylie as soon as the car passed. When Kylie still didn’t get out of her car, he crossed over to the bowling alley, deciding he would make it look as though he were entering through the main doors to see if she’d spotted him and that kept her from getting out.
At the doors, he pulled one of them open, immediately hit with the noise from inside, but then turned, standing just inside, and watched the Suburban circle the lot and slow, not parking but not leaving the lot, either.
Perry stepped back outside. Kylie continued sitting in her car. From this distance he couldn’t tell whether her car was running or not. She’d engulfed herself in the darkest part of the lot.
The whole thing didn’t sit well with him. He watched the Suburban start to accelerate, heading toward Kylie’s car. Was she meeting someone here?
Something tightened inside his gut. Maybe he didn’t know her really well, but his protector’s instincts kicked in big-time. Kylie didn’t strike him as a stupid woman. But if she was sitting over there in the dark, waiting to meet someone in a public parking lot, it might be smart to make his presence known.
Not to mention, she didn’t tell him no thanks when he said he’d be back over. Whatever she was doing, he bet she didn’t have it planned when he was over there earlier. An impromptu meeting in a dark parking lot meant something was up.
Kylie wasn’t stupid enough to meet someone off the Internet, was she? She was a single, gorgeous, intelligent woman. Perry knew there were people who met and formed relationships from the Internet. It wasn’t as if he’d tried starting anything with her. But that kiss they’d shared earlier clearly showed mutual interest. If Kylie was the kind of woman who would come on to one man and then prance off with another, Perry would find out right now.
Perry glanced across the parking lot. Kylie’s car hadn’t moved. In the darkness, he couldn’t tell from this angle whether she was still in her car or not. That damn Suburban pulled around the parking lot, circling it like some fucking bird of prey. It turned at the end of the row of stalls, flashing its brights on Kylie’s car. She still sat in the driver’s seat.
The Suburban stopped, its lights remaining on Kylie until she raised her hand over her eyes. Perry took advantage of her being blinded and walked along the sidewalk that ran the length of the bowling alley. The floodlight above him hummed loudly and another car came along the back side of the bowling alley.
“Do I know you?” Perry met gazes with the driver in a small Honda, who slowed as he hesitated, trying to decide whether to turn into the parking lot or head straight.
The driver looked away from Perry first and put a cell phone to his ear. Perry returned his attention to Kylie, who now looked down at her lap. Her soft blonde hair fluttered around her face, and he guessed she continued avoiding the bright lights, which remained trained on her.
He stopped at the end of the parking lot and the Honda turned into the lot, driving past him toward the front of the bowling alley. Perry focused his attention on the Suburban driver. The man behind the wheel appeared to be watching Kylie, who for whatever reason sat like a sitting duck in her car.
Whatever the scenario playing out in front of him was, Perry didn’t like it. Worse yet, standing and watching, unsure what he witnessed, bugged the crap out of him. The driver of the Suburban was being more than rude simply sitting there blinding Kylie. Perry wished he had a flashlight so he could return the treatment. Studying the man for a moment, Perry noted the strong profile of a Caucasian man, his relaxed expression proof of the narrow-minded attitude of someone who thought nothing of anyone other than himself. More than likely some prick waiting for his kid to come out and indifferent to the fact that he blinded Kylie while she was playing sitting duck.
Perry glanced back down the parking lot, noting the parked cars, his own sitting halfway down the lot, and the Honda that had turned the corner moments ago, now pulled into a stall not too far down. That driver cut his lights but also didn’t get out. Perry didn’t have time to focus on everyone’s agenda tonight. He returned his attention to Kylie.
As he stepped off the sidewalk, Kylie opened her car door. At the same time the black Suburban started toward her.
“What?” Perry grunted, scowling at the back of the Suburban when it approached Kylie.
Was she here to meet the man in the Suburban? And if so, did she sit there docilely while he checked her out with his high beams to see if she met his criteria? Like any man would be disappointed with a woman like Kylie.
Perry took in the tag number, XLS519, Johnson County tags. But his attention shifted back to Kylie when she closed her car door and stepped away from her car. The Suburban headed toward her, and Perry picked up his pace. He was about to bust her party wide open.
“Kylie!” he bellowed.
The Suburban’s brakes came on, the red lights glowing in the dark. The truck hesitated long enough for Perry to get close enough to touch it. The windows were tinted, not a lot, but the night added to the hindrance, making it hard to see the driver. Perry walked up alongside the truck and it turned, accelerating and headed out of the parking lot. Perry watched it leave quickly before he turned to face Kylie. Anger spiked inside him, raging out of control before he could stop it.
“What the hell was that all about?” he demanded, yelling as he started toward her.
She didn’t answer but climbed into her car, gunned the engine, and squealed out of the parking lot, leaving him standing there looking after her.
“Son of a fucking bitch,” he spit, turning and sprinting across the parking lot to his car. He jumped in as the Honda pulled out in front of him, also leaving. There was still only one person in the car. “What in the hell is going on here?” he roared, the vein in his right temple pounding as hard as his heart.
Perry hit the steering wheel when he drove past Kylie’s house and she wasn’t there. He felt his blood pressure boil and knew he needed a grip now or he wouldn’t be thinking clearly soon. It wasn’t too often his outrage reached the point of wanting blood, but Perry knew himself well enough to know calming down was imperative and any other poor sap who might get in his way before he did chill out would regret it seriously.
He headed back to his house, made it across town, cut back, and did another drive-by. Kylie still wasn’t home.
“Enough.” The tires squealed on his Jeep when he took her corner too sharply. “Not my problem anymore.”
If she was pissed at him for interfering with her meeting someone in a dark parking lot when she knew he was coming back over, he was best off without her. All he needed to do was get the taste of her off his lips, the soft feel of her warm flesh out of his memory. He balled his hands into fists, remembering their kiss earlier and how good she had felt when he’d caressed her body. And how well she’d responded to him.
“Just be okay,” he muttered, scrubbing his head and pulling into his driveway fifteen minutes later. God. Going home didn’t seem like the right thing to do.
It wasn’t just the protector’s instinct still simmering way too hot inside him, it was the cop in Perry that needed to know she was fine. He reluctantly got out of his car, fingering his keys and heading toward his back door. The silence around him, the peaceful and serene surroundings, annoyed him even further.
Perry paced his living room floor, not bothering with lights, as he replayed what he saw play out at the parking lot. On an impulse, he headed to his computer and wrote down the tag number to the black Suburban. Undern
eath it he wrote the words “green Honda”; then he stared at the block letters he’d just printed on the notepad.
“What are you up to, Miss Kylie Dover?” His stomach knotted; anger, concern, and not having any answers making for a cruel combination in his gut. If she was a player, then she was a pro. He hated feeling he’d busted her trying to meet another man and forced himself to remember there was nothing between them. “Nor will there be if this is how she plays.”
Perry slipped the paper with the tag number into the file where he’d put the printed picture of the Web site page. He stared at the young girl, looking so innocent and anything but happy, as she stared naked at the camera. He needed more puzzle pieces to fit this case together. The best thing to do right now was bury himself in this investigation and put Kylie out of his mind. Her life was her own damn business.
Carl Ramos studied the picture from the Web site and compared it to the pictures Kathleen Long’s parents had given Perry. “When did you get pictures of her?” Carl asked.
Perry glanced at the pictures Carl compared, and returned his attention to the road. “I went over to the Longs’ last night after you went home.”
Carl shot him a quick glance. If he was hurt, he didn’t show it. Perry doubted that was his reaction.
“You want me to put it on my log sheet that I went with you?”
His question surprised Perry. Carl was a good man, and a good cop. “You don’t ever have to lie for me,” Perry told him, studying Carl only for a moment to see that his question was sincere. “You’d headed home to be with your mother and that is important. I didn’t know I was going over there until I left the station and ran into Rad in the parking lot. It was an impromptu visit, but we need more information.”
He turned onto the Longs’ street and slowed to 20 miles per hour as he headed down the long, quiet, shady side street. Large well-kept homes lined either side and there wasn’t a car visible anywhere. People in this neighborhood parked in garages, and most were at work.
“The Longs know we’re coming?” Carl asked.
“Yup. Eileen Long said Kathleen had a computer in her bedroom. She knows we’re coming with a subpoena for the hard drive and didn’t have a problem with it.” Perry had been distracted all morning at the station, especially when he ran a check on the Suburban’s tags and came up with nothing. The tag was fake, a crime in itself. “Sorry I didn’t tell you about this before we headed out. These teenage girls meeting some prick off the Internet and then ending up dead is hitting a bit too close to home, I think.”
“Are you worried about your sister’s kids?” Carl stuffed the pictures back into the file and placed it in Perry’s open briefcase on the floor at Carl’s feet. “She’s got all girls, doesn’t she?”
“Yup. And about the same age as these girls. When I get time I’m going to find out if they knew Kathleen.”
“I’m sure you’ve had enough involvement raising those girls for them to know better than to meet some stranger off the computer.”
Perry nodded and pulled up in front of the house. They weren’t quite up the walk to the front door when it opened and Eileen, a woman not much older than Perry, and fairly pretty, nodded to the two of them. She looked as though she hadn’t slept and leaned heavily on the doorknob when she stood to the side so the men could enter.
“How are you doing today?” Carl asked, always the concerned cop.
“Not very well,” she answered honestly, offering both of them a small smile and then taking the copy of the subpoena Carl handed her. “This way. Her computer is in her room.”
They followed Eileen up the stairs and down a wide hall to a bedroom, whose door was closed. She pushed it open and walked in ahead of them. There were clothes on the floor and the bed wasn’t made, giving all indications that someone had slept here the night before and headed out that morning in a hurry. Perry guessed Eileen hadn’t touched it since her daughter disappeared by the somewhat musky smell in the room.
“Do you know what chat programs she used?” he asked, pulling out the wooden chair from the desk and sitting in front of the home computer.
“We all use AOL,” Eileen said. “But I think Kathleen used Yahoo! Messenger sometimes, too. I’m sorry I don’t know her passwords or anything. I guess I should have made her give those to me.” She sounded defeated.
“From what you’ve told us, it sounded as if Kathleen was a good girl,” Carl offered.
“She was the best.” Eileen choked and covered her hand with her mouth. “When she approached us and talked to us about meeting a boy who went to another high school but whom she’d been chatting with online we had a long discussion about it. Mitch and I thought Kathleen understood the danger involved in meeting someone from the Internet, even when the situation appeared harmless. We even offered to invite him over to the house so they could meet that way.” Her voice cracked and she covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry. Do you need me in here? I’ll let you two do whatever you need to do.”
Carl walked out of the bedroom, offering words of support and asking if Eileen and her husband had considered counseling for dealing with the loss of their daughter. Perry let Carl console Eileen and studied the contents of the desk while the computer booted up. His instructions were to remove the hard drive and return to the station, but he wanted to search the computer for what he could find before doing that.
He stood, walking over to the briefcase Carl had placed on Kathleen’s bed, and pulled out a ziplock bag and gloves. Then returning to the computer, Perry gently removed the pictures that had been taped around the monitor, pictures of Kathleen and her friends, different poses, different friends. A few of them were class pictures. Either way, they created a profile on her, helping him know who her group of friends were.
He went through the programs on her computer, took a look at the list of songs that were on it, and opened a few files that seemed to be nothing more than homework assignments.
“Find anything?” Carl entered the room. “Mrs. Long is downstairs if we need her.”
“Nothing yet,” Perry said, closing the ziplock bag and handing it to Carl as he slid back into the chair in front of the computer.
“She gave me a list of pet names, birth dates, anything she could think of to help us with passwords.” Carl didn’t bother handing the list to Perry but pulled out another bag and slipped the paper inside.
When they took the hard drive down to the station, passwords wouldn’t be an issue. They could crack into any password-protected program once they hooked the hard drive up to the computers there.
Perry clicked on Yahoo! Messenger, knowing it was his nieces’ preferred chat program. The long, slender box appeared on the screen, Kathleen’s screen name and her password already saved into it.
“We’re in luck,” he said, and Carl moved to his side. “We find a screen name with Pete, or Peter, and we might have to add pornography charges to kidnapping, rape, and murder.”
“Do you think Kathleen is connected to the other girls who’ve disappeared?”
“I’d bet my life on it,” Perry muttered, and watched as Kathleen’s buddy list appeared. He scrolled down a long list of screen names and then back up again. Not one of them used any form of the name Peter.
“Maybe she talked to him on AOL,” Carl suggested.
Perry was already on it, although he said nothing. While signing onto AOL, which also had the password saved, he went through Yahoo! Messenger again, hitting the preferences and changing her settings so that the actual screen names were displayed instead of each person’s name. Still, there was nothing. It was the same with AOL. Not one screen name came close to Peter.
“Maybe she used another screen name,” Perry mused out loud.
“They’ll be able to tell down at the station. Ready for me to pull out the hard drive?” Carl reached into the briefcase and slid a screwdriver out of the side pocket.
No, Perry wasn’t ready. He wanted to tear into the computer himself and no
t turn it over to Rad, who in turn would probably ship it out to Kansas City’s larger police department or, worse yet, the FBI field office. Since this wasn’t officially his case, he would have to sift through red tape just to learn what they found.
“One more minute.” He clicked the drop-down box on AOL to view the other screen names. Then flipping open his notebook, he jotted down the names. “How many brothers and sisters does she have?”
“Just a younger brother.”
Perry guessed the screen names on AOL all belonged to family members. More than likely, the account holder was Eileen or her husband and they would authorize any new screen names. Since there were only four names, Perry doubted Kathleen used AOL for a lot of chatting.
He looked through the programs on the computer, pulled up IE, and then typed in: MySpace. This time the password wasn’t saved. Doing the same with Facebook, he ran into the same snag. And there was no way to tell what other names she might have on Yahoo! Messenger. Frustrated, he stood and let Carl do his thing. “There’s a connection here. I know there is.”
He thought about how Dani showed Kylie the way people chatted using Web sites.
“Your hunches are usually right.” Carl stepped around him and then unscrewed the back of the tower.
Perry wished Rad felt the same way. He was a damn good cop, one of the best on their force. And it wasn’t bragging rights that allowed him to say that. The facts spoke for themselves. In his years on duty, he’d brought in more criminals, solved more cases, than any other man, or woman, in his department. Yet for some reason, Rad wouldn’t assign the case to him. That in itself bugged the crap out of him, too.
Dani and Kylie’s conversation kept popping into his head as well. There were other ways to talk online. He wanted to be the one figuring this out and not some IT geek.
When they arrived back at the station, Perry headed straight for Rad’s office, keeping the hard drive in his possession. Rad looked tired when he glanced up from paperwork and gestured for Perry to enter.
