Predator (19 page)

K
rista 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.

I
t 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 meet 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.

M
orning 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 said. “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.

S
o 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.

As soon as it was over, she had gone back to the computer. Hours passed. She didn’t even know what time it was, but her stomach growled, and she realized she hadn’t eaten.

The doorbell rang, startling her. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she padded in sock feet to the front door and peered out.

It was Ryan. Aware of how bad she must look, since she hadn’t done anything to herself all day, she opened the door. “Ryan, hi.”

He smiled as if it did him good to see her. “Hey. I just wanted to come by and check on you. You weren’t answering your phone.”

Her phone. The battery was probably dead, since she hadn’t thought to charge it last night. “Sorry about that.”

“I know you probably don’t want to be around me right now, after what happened the last time we were together, but I have a bodyguard in that black SUV on the street.”

She looked past him, saw the vehicle in front of her house.

“They’ll make sure no one throws any Molotov cocktails through your window while I’m here.”

She knew he wasn’t joking. “Come on in.”

He came in and she shut the door behind him. “Did you see my interviews?”

“I saw the
Today Show.
You were amazing. Were there others?”

“Two others today, and I have more scheduled for tomorrow.”

“You did great with Matt Lauer.” She led him into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. She could use some. “So tell me about the lawsuit.”

“GrapeVyne is suing me for a hundred million dollars, for defamation.”

“And you went ahead with the interviews anyway?”

“It’s the right thing to do. I knew after I did the first one, I’d get other requests. I even had a publisher call me today, wanting to talk about a book deal. I have a huge forum here. I’m not going to lose it because of GrapeVyne’s threats. If they want to take me to court and let me expose the things I’m finding out about them, then they can bring it on.”

She poured the coffee, brought him a cup, and sat down. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” He glanced at her laptop, sitting open next to her at the table. GrapeVyne was up, and she was on the page of a girl named Maxi Greer. “What are you doing on GrapeVyne?”

She closed the laptop. “Nothing. Just…studying all of Ella’s friends. Looking for anything strange, unusual. Anything that might lead me to the killer.”

“Want my help?”

She looked at him for a moment. Though she didn’t want him to know the dangerous game she’d been playing, he knew a lot more about the inner workings of the site than she did. Maybe she should let him help.

She showed him the legal pads she’d filled up with notes she’d taken on Ella’s Friends. “I’ve put a big dent in it. But every time I think I’ve gotten close, I find something that legitimizes that person. Then I’m back at square one.”

He touched her hand. “You’re shaking. Why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve eaten today.”

“Then let’s order a pizza.”

Glad to distract his attention from her GrapeVyne activities, she agreed. Food might make her feel better.

Krista looked like she felt better after she’d eaten. Ryan was relieved to see the color return to her face, and she stopped shaking. She even seemed to relax a little.

But that haunted, distant look still glistened in her eyes. He wished he hadn’t contributed to it. “Krista, I feel like I’ve damaged you. Made things worse.”

“What? How?”

“Almost getting you killed, for one thing. I don’t blame your dad for hating me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s just…worried.”

His eyes swept her face. “I want you to be all right.”

Tears rimmed her eyes, and she turned back to the computer. Typing something in, she said, “If I could find the killer, I would be. If he weren’t around to torment Megan or stalk any other women. If there were any chance of justice.”

“There is going to be justice, Krista. You have to believe that.”

“Do I?” She got up, poured some more coffee. “To tell you the honest truth, I don’t really know if I believe that anymore. I’m not supposed to doubt God, but I’m weaker than I thought.”

The look on her face told him how much the admission had taken out of her. “Krista, doubt is not the same as failure.”

She whispered a laugh and sat back down. “Unless you spend every day trying to convince others that God is their champion…their protector.”

“He is their protector. You know he is.”

“I know it in my head.”

“But not in your heart?”

Her face twisted. “In my heart, I remember Ella half-buried in that makeshift grave, and I feel so much rage.”

He leaned on the table and took her hands. They felt so small in his, and the urge to protect her swelled in his chest.

“I just…” Her mouth trembled as she struggled with the words, and her tears spilled over. “I always thought that the people I loved would be safe. That the ones I prayed for every day would be guarded. What have I got to give those girls at Eagle’s Wings? How can I tell them that God will protect them, when my sister is dead? And if they can’t turn to God, where can they turn?” She wiped her face. “There’s this girl Jesse who comes to the center. Her life is a nightmare. What can I say to her? I can’t throw out Bible verses and think it’ll make a difference for her.”

“Maybe God has just used this tragedy to make you understand that.”

“But how can I have a ministry if I’m so confused myself? I’ve let her down already, by spouting out things I don’t even understand. What can I tell her about the anger she must feel? What can I share with any of those girls?”

“You share their pain. It’s something you couldn’t share before. And what’s that verse in the Bible about how we’re not fighting people?”

“You mean Ephesians 6:12? Our fight is not against flesh and blood?”

“Yes, that’s it. And if God can bring Bible verses back to my mind after all these years, then he can sure give you the right things to say to those girls.”

She smiled through her tears. He hoped he was making her feel better.

“My mom used to say God has angels fighting for us,” Ryan whispered.

“But Ella…the horror of what she went through.”

“Do you think God’s making her live with that in heaven?”

She met his eyes, processing that question. “No. No, he wouldn’t. I’ve never imagined Ella traumatized and grief-stricken in heaven. There are no more tears for her. Just for us.”

As she melted into her grief, he pulled her into his arms. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she lay her head on his shoulder, and he closed his eyes. It felt so natural to hold her. So right.

But he couldn’t bear to see her hurting. As he stroked her hair, he prayed that God would comfort her. That he’d walk her through this darkness. That he’d bring her into sunshine again.

And that, when he did, he’d let Ryan be there for her too.

When her weeping was spent, she pulled back, wiped her face on a paper towel. Her soft gaze swept his face. “You’re nothing like I thought,” she whispered.

Heat flushed his face, and his heartbeat thudded in his neck. He pressed his forehead against hers. “You’re exactly like I thought,” he said.

When he kissed her, she didn’t recoil. Instead, she responded as if she’d hoped for it…as if she needed it as much as he did.

Then he heard the garage door opening, a car pulling into the bay.

They pulled back, stricken, and gazed at each other. He let her go, yearning to hold her longer. “Maybe I should go,” he said. “Your dad probably won’t be thrilled about my being here.”

She dabbed at her eyes again. “Yeah, he’s probably freaking about the SUV in front of the house.”

As she walked him to the front door, her father burst in through the garage door. He stormed into the kitchen and saw them. Ryan felt exposed, as if David could read every thought on his face.

“Who is that in front of my house?”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Hi, Mr. Carmichael. That’s a bodyguard I hired to escort me around town today.”

“A bodyguard,” he repeated, as though the word disgusted him.

“Yes. I came to check on Krista. I was just leaving.”

Her father looked at Krista. It was clear she’d been crying. Mr. Carmichael probably thought he’d upset her.

Maybe he had.

David left without a word and headed down the hall. Ryan said a quick good-bye to Krista, then slipped out the door, hoping he hadn’t caused more trouble.

Krista closed the door and leaned back against it, thinking about the threshold their relationship had just crossed. It gave her comfort and hope…

But Ryan had almost seen her Maxi Greer page. She’d managed to navigate away from it before he’d seen what she was doing. She went back into the kitchen to her laptop, signed back in as Maxi Greer, and pulled up her alias’s GrapeVyne page. There were no new messages.

She was tired, so tired. She knew that she should go talk to her dad, but she didn’t want to spoil the memory of Ryan holding her. No, she’d go and take a shower, and give herself a break.

She closed the computer, putting it to sleep. She could come back to it later. Maxi’s friends would still be there.