Speak No Evil_ A Novel - Allison Brennan [115]
“Try to get him to respond faster.” Dillon typed out a message.
Hi Scout, I’m so glad you can help me. You’re so smart in math. I’m really desperate. I need to leave in ten minutes, though, and I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll wait for you in the chat room as long as I can, but if you’re too busy I understand. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find someone else to help.
“I think that’ll do it,” Dillon said.
“I hope so. I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”
“So am I.”
He finished wrapping Leah’s body. Just like Becca. He unzipped his pants. He was semi-hard. Not good enough.
He went to launch the slide show on his computer that he’d made from pictures of Becca. He turned the screen at an angle so he could watch her die again as he strangled Leah.
Another message. He clicked on it. Elizabeth.
He read her note and frowned. She could only wait for him ten minutes! What did she have to do that was so important? Certainly nothing as important as what he was doing!
He angrily replied.
Okay, I’ll come by but I don’t have a lot of time. Why do you have to do this now? Do you have a date or something?
He hit send before he really thought about it. It sounded mean. He didn’t want to scare her off. He instantly logged into the chat room.
Hi, Elizabeth, I’m here. What do you need?
He heard the side door slam shut and froze. Who was here?
He listened carefully, swallowing faint panic. Thump, thump. “Dammit! Brandon Henry Burns! Where are you?”
Mother. She’s going to ruin everything.
She wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. She worked ten days on, five days off for the cruise line. Like clockwork. But there was no mistaking her smoky cackle.
Hatred grew hot, and he clenched his fists. If it weren’t for her, his father would still be here. He wasn’t going to let the bitch ruin his chance to finally find his dad.
He zipped up his pants and pulled open his nightstand drawer. His fingers wrapped around his knife.
Dillon read Scout’s message. He waited a full minute, then responded.
Hi Scout, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re so smart in math. It’s my basic calculus class again. You probably think I’m really dumb, but I’m having a problem demonstrating a proof of the fundamental theorem of calculus. Can you help?
He waited a minute. “He’s not responding.”
“That’s okay, he’s still logged in. The trace is working And . . . yes! I have his IP address. I’m going to run it through the ISP lists we got with the warrant. Ten minutes and we’ll have a provider. And let’s hope they don’t make us jump through hoops before giving us his name and address.”
Carina and Nick arrived at Maggie Peterson’s apartment twenty minutes after she called, breaking all speed records to get to La Jolla from San Diego proper.
Maggie was a wreck, and Kyle was trying to console her.
“What happened to my sister?” Maggie cried. “Where is she?”
Carina had two cops talking to Leah’s boyfriend, and so far his story held. He had a roommate who saw him kiss Leah good-bye, but not follow her out.
“Has your sister complained about being followed? Any strange feelings?”
“She was worried after Angie was killed. Leah works part-time at the Shack, so she knew Angie. Why didn’t Tommy walk her to her car? This would never have happened!”
Carina had also asked the officers watching Kyle if he’d left at all during the night. They assured her that he hadn’t budged.
It was ten in the morning and Leah had been missing five hours. She was supposed to be at work at eight, but hadn’t shown up.
“Maggie, stay here by the phone. Wait for Leah to call. We’ll put an APB out on her. We’ll find her.”
“What if that guy has her? Angie’s killer?”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” Carina said. She looked at Kyle. “Where’s your brother?”
Kyle blinked. “Home, I guess. He’s just a kid.”
“He’s nearly eighteen.” If Brandon and Kyle were working together, this ploy was brilliant. Kyle had the best alibi—spending all night with the victim’s sister.
She hoped she was wrong.
Her cell phone rang. “Kincaid.”
“It’s Dillon. We have a location on Scout. It