The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [62]
In the home office Ramona worked Jeff Vialpando’s favorite list of local Web sites with Becky sitting at her side, looking for a personal ad for Sally Greer. First she cruised the adult personals sites.
“Unbelievable,” Becky said abruptly, reading the sexually explicit narratives, many of which were posted with revealing or completely nude photographs that showed everything. “I wonder if our school computers block this kind of smut. This is just porn, for people who don’t want to visit the adult sites, isn’t it?”
“Ask your students,” Ramona replied as she exited a site and called up another. “They would probably know.”
She went to the preference screen and entered information closely matching Greer’s age and physical characteristics, and scrolled through the ads.
“Are these sites all like this?” Becky asked.
“According to Jeff Vialpando what we’re seeing is fairly typical,” Ramona said.
“Who is Jeff Vialpando?” Becky asked. She was always interested when Ramona mentioned the name of a new man, especially now that she’d broken up with her live-in boyfriend, whom Becky had never really liked anyway.
“He’s an APD vice sergeant,” Ramona said.
“And?” Becky asked, searching her sister’s face.
Ramona smiled. “And, nothing. At least not yet. We’re having lunch tomorrow.”
“I’ll want to be told everything.”
Ramona nodded. “Don’t I always?” She switched from the adult personals and started in on the list of love and relationship sites, which were much more mundane and rather like classified personal ads that ran in newspapers. Most consisted of blurbs describing how interesting the women were, and their laundry lists of desired traits in a man. Some wanted friendship only, others were looking for soul mates, and a few sought intimate encounters, cyber sex—whatever that was—or E-mail pen pals.
“It’s just an Internet meat market,” Becky said with a groan, getting out of her chair.
“Seen enough?”
“More than enough,” Becky said. “There’s something so sad about it all.”
“There are desperately lonely and needy people out there,” Ramona said.
“I’m going back to the real world,” Becky said as she picked up a thick manila folder from the desk. “I’ve got papers to grade.”
Ramona stopped scrolling and gave her sister an apologetic look. “I’ve stolen your space.”
“I’ll use the kitchen table.”
Becky left, and Ramona returned her attention to the screen. Time passed. Through the open door she heard Becky’s footsteps. She turned to find her sister in her pajamas with a toothbrush in her mouth. It brought up the memory of Becky wandering through their parents’ house every night just before bedtime, brushing her teeth and being ordered back to the bathroom to complete the job. No parental chiding ever stopped her behavior, and by the time Becky was a teenager their mother had given up trying.
Becky took the toothbrush out of her mouth and said good night. Ramona smiled in response, called up an ad for Sultry Sally, and clicked on the photo icon. A picture of Sally Greer in a scoop top that showed a lot of cleavage appeared on the screen. Ramona read the accompanying narrative.
Hi, I’m Sally. I’m not looking for a serious relationship yet, and I like older men who enjoy the company of a playful, sexy lady. If you enjoy adventurous dates with a woman who isn’t afraid to be honest about her desires, e-mail me. You should be intelligent, discreet, affluent, honest about your needs, and willing to show your appreciation for the time I spend with you. I hope to hear from you soon! Oh, by the way, I love to travel!
The ad was new and the photograph looked very much like the work of Thomas Deacon.
Greer had included an Internet address for her personal Web site where visitors could view a photo gallery with new pictures recently posted. Ramona called it up and smiled as two photos she’d seen at Deacon’s studio appeared on the screen.
She perused the gallery. There were photos of Greer wearing a summer frock and smiling over her shoulder,