I Can See You (17 page)

“Bastard,” Abbott murmured.

“Technically, he was right. Morally he wasn’t. I knew
where Christy worked. She’d told me about her job when she came to Pandora’s.
Christy was lonely. She just wanted to talk. She was worried about getting
fired for being online so much, but couldn’t stop.”

“She was addicted,” Webster said quietly and Eve
nodded sadly.

“I went to see her in real life, but she hadn’t come
to work. I thought she was home, playing. I thought if I couldn’t find Christy,
I should at least pay my respects to Martha. That’s when I saw you, Detective
Webster.”

“And when you called me?” Olivia asked.

“Not yet. I went home, got online.” Eve felt her heart
start racing all over again. “I went to Christy’s house, in the World. There
was a black wreath on the door and…” She swallowed hard. “She was hanging. And
her shoes had fallen off.”

“How?” Webster asked, his eyes narrowed.

“The same way they were in the real world. I almost
called 911, but it sounded too crazy. So I called Olivia here at the station. I
didn’t have her cell.”

“That’ll change,” Olivia said. “My sister will kick my
ass if anything happens to you.”

Eve’s smile was wan. “Can’t have that. I figured you
could get her address, that you could check on her and make sure she was okay.
I didn’t think you’d think I was crazy.”

“How
did
you find Christy’s address?” Webster
asked, more quietly this time.

“Don’t answer that,” Matt said, then lifted his brows
at Webster’s scowl. “For now.”

“I went to see Christy,” Eve said, “hoping it was a
sick joke. But it wasn’t.”

“What about Martha’s door?” Webster asked. “Did it
have a black wreath, too?”

“I didn’t check today. I was too rattled. But it
didn’t as of yesterday.”

“Let’s check when we’re done here,” Webster said.
“What about Samantha Altman?”

“She may live in Shadowland, but she wasn’t in my
study. I’m sorry.”

“How do you know?” Webster pressed, and Matt Nillson
stepped in.

“All you need to know is that Eve checked the list and
Altman wasn’t there.”

Webster shook his head. “Two of my victims were in her
study. Not a coincidence.”

“That’s exactly what it is. Hear me out,” Eve added.
“Two victims spent inordinate amounts of time in the virtual world. Your third
might have, too, but not as part of my study. Whoever killed them knew Christy
played, because he simmed the crime scene.”

“Simmed?” Abbott said.

“I’m sorry, Captain. Simulated. Maybe he knew all
three from the World. Maybe he preyed on them there.” That Christy wouldn’t
have been there except for her study was something Eve couldn’t dwell on right
now. The guilt would come later.

Webster was shaking his head. “What are the odds that
he’d meet two of your test subjects at random, Eve?”

“Pretty high, if he’s local. We required our subjects
to come in for evaluations. They had to be local. We stacked the deck,
geographically speaking. If he was looking for women from the Cities, he would
have had a larger-than-average pool to choose from.”

“That does make sense,” Webster admitted.

“And we don’t even know if Samantha Altman was a
player,” Abbott said.

“Gamer,” Eve murmured.

“Gamer,” Abbott repeated. “Until we find differently,
Samantha was not a
gamer
.”

“The other connection,” Jack said, “could be Siren
Song.”

“Or something you don’t know yet,” Abbott said. “For
now, we assume nothing.”

“At least we know he met Christy in this Shadowland,”
Webster said. “We need to use that to find him. Will you help us?”

“Of course. Tell me what you need me to do.”

Monday, February 22, 7:45 p.m.

Liza had held her tears until she’d made it home from
the police station. Sitting at her kitchen table, she looked again at the paper
the officer had given her. She’d gone to file a missing person report and the
officer had put the information in the computer.

Then he’d looked at her with a frown. “You said your
sister cleaned buildings.”

“She does,” Liza had insisted, but he’d shaken his
head.

“Afraid not.” He’d turned his monitor so she could see
for herself.

She was still… stunned, two hours later. A mug shot.
SOLICITATION, the charge read. “We picked Lindsay up for hooking two months
ago. You didn’t know?”

Lindsay had chosen to… sell herself. And now she was
missing.
I have to find her
.

She didn’t have the first idea of where to begin
looking. She’d figure it out. She’d find some hookers, start asking questions.
Somebody must know her sister. Somebody must have seen her.
I have to know.

Lindsay could be alive somewhere, hurt.
Needing me.
I have to try
.

Monday, February 22, 8:15 p.m.

 Amazing.” Abbott watched as Eve sat at his desk
showing them Shadowland.

Noah sat on Eve’s right, more interested in the focus
in her face. She was giving them what she knew in a professional way. Well,
almost everything she knew.

Her attorney sat at the round table across from
Abbott’s desk, as did Olivia, two people who wanted to protect Eve Wilson.
So
I’m not the only one.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Can
you see the screen, Detective?”

She didn’t like to be watched. “Yes. Can you show us
your Pandora avatar shop?”

“I thought we were waiting for Detective Phelps.”

“He’s gone back to the crime scene. He’ll join us if
he’s able.”

“All right.” She typed in a few commands. “Welcome to
Façades Face Emporium.”

Abbott let out a low whistle. “All those faces. That’s
just damn creepy.”

One side of her mouth lifted. Noah had always thought
she’d conjured her Mona Lisa smile. Now he knew a monster had cut her face,
damaging nerves on one side.

“Like an old Vincent Price flick,” she said. She
clicked her mouse, bringing up a female avatar with blonde hair and a sweet
face. “Meet Pandora. She runs the shop.”

Pandora
.
She’d known all of this would bring her grief, but she’d done it anyway.

“Customers come in, try on faces,” she said. “We chat.
It’s almost… real.”

“Indeed,” Abbott said. “Show me Martha Brisbane’s
face.”

“Here are Desiree’s last six faces, top quality.
Martha had Shadow-bucks to burn.”

“Where did she get it?” Noah asked. The faces were
ethereal. Beautiful.

“I don’t know. Most serious gamers keep a balance
sheet. It would be on her PC.”

Micki had found nothing on Martha’s computer. Noah
hoped Christy’s wasn’t wiped.

“What do you do with the money you earn, Eve?” Olivia
asked from the round table.

“Mostly pay the rent. Façades is on the Strip.
Location, location, location. What’s left, Pandora donates to virtual charity.”
Again the half smile. “She’s a community activist.”

As was Eve. “You designed
all
these faces?”
Noah asked and she nodded.

“I wanted to be an artist, long time ago. But my hand
was damaged, so I got into graphic design. Drawing faces was much easier with a
mouse than a pen.”

That she’d begun creating faces when hers was scarred
was insight he didn’t think she’d want him to pick up. “You’re very good,” he
said and her cheeks pinked.

“Thank you. I’ve studied faces for a long time. People
make instant decisions about whom to trust, and facial features are key. I
track the faces my customers choose with what kind of character they become.
Kind of a side psychology hobby. Where to next?”

“Martha’s virtual house first,” Noah said.

“Let’s get Greer.” A redhead appeared, very buxom and
very sparsely clothed.

Abbott choked on a laugh. “Well, nobody’s gonna be
able to describe her face.”

“That was the idea,” she said, embarrassed, then
rolled her eyes. “Geeze.”

Noah bit back a smile. “I got the meaning behind
Pandora. Why Greer?”

She shrugged self-consciously. “It means ‘guardian’ or
‘protector.’ ”

“I see.” And what he saw, he liked. Very much.
Fate
,
he thought.
Maybe
.

A cell phone rang. “Mine,” Olivia said. “Miss Lee,
Siren Song, just checked in for her flight to Vancouver. I’m meeting Kane at
the airport. You’ll bring me up to speed?”

“Of course,” Noah said. “Call us when you get Miss Lee.”

“Thanks, Olivia,” Eve called. “This is the trendy part
of the city,” she said as Greer strode confidently down a crowded street.
“Martha’s Desiree lived well.”

“Is it always dark outside?” Abbott asked.

“No. It runs on real time. If you work real-world
days, you play in virtual-world nights.”

“Or you can spend eighteen hours a day online like
Martha did,” Noah said.

“Too many do.” Eve walked Greer down a hallway.
“There’s Martha’s black wreath.”

It spanned the width of the door. “This wasn’t there
yesterday?” Noah asked.

“No. You want me to go inside?”

“Depends,” Noah said dryly. “Do you need a virtual
warrant?”

Eve smiled. “I have connections. If I need a warrant
later, I can get one.”

“Then by all means.” But levity vanished when Greer
opened the door and he stared, stunned. “Damn. It’s just like the real scene.
Down to the shoes.”

Eve zoomed in on the avatar’s face. “Whoever did this
accessed Martha’s online file. He made up her Desiree face like a hooker’s,
which means he edited her avatar.”

“I thought it was your avatar,” Abbott said. “Your
design.”

“Some designers lock their code so clients can’t alter
anything. I leave mine open.”

“Don’t your customers go in and edit themselves?” Noah
asked.

“Sometimes. Mostly they just change their dress colors.
Whoever changed Desiree’s face was in Martha’s file and may have left something
behind. Did you find her computer?”

“Yeah, but it was wiped,” Noah said. “We’re trying to
lift data from the drive.”

“That would be a way,” she murmured, emphasizing the
a
.

Noah leaned forward a hair. “There’s another way?”

She leaned back a hair. “Well, sure. You can ask
ShadowCo nicely to let you into her file or… your forensic people can hack
their way in from another computer.”

“You wouldn’t know how to do that, would you, Eve?”
Abbott asked.

“Eve,” Matthew warned from his seat at the table.

Noah had almost forgotten he was there. He wondered
how to make him leave.

Eve smiled wryly. “It’s really not that hard. High
school kids do it all the time.”

She hadn’t denied hacking, Noah noted. “Take us to the
club. Ninth Circle.”

The club was a neon castle where flames burst from the
turrets. Greer pushed her way in, stride confident. Eve moved that way, tall
and sure of her own space. He wondered how she’d managed that given her past.

“The band sucks,” he said, wincing at the screeching
noise.

“True. But nobody comes here for the music. What do
you want to see?”

“Do you see who Christy was dancing with last night?”
Noah asked.

She searched the room bursting with gyrating avatars.
“No. He was one of Claudio’s. Claudio runs the most exclusive avatar shop in
Shadowland. But the dancer-guy’s not here now. And I never spoke to him so I
don’t know his screen name.”

“Write down a description,” Abbott said. “We can track
him through his registration.”

“Maybe,” Eve said doubtfully. “If he used his real
name. Hardly anyone does. The only place you’ll find real personal info is
through the banks and money exchanges.”

“Follow the virtual money,” Noah said. “I guess that’s
true everywhere.”

She logged off. “I’ll get on later from home. If I see
him, I’ll call you right away.”

“Don’t approach him,” Noah said. “We’ll take it from
here.”

She nodded, her dark eyes serious. “Of course.”

He knew she lied, but didn’t care. Let her hack in. It
would save them a lot of time.

Matthew Nillson had also risen. “I’ll take you home,
Eve.”

I don’t think so
, Noah thought. He thought about the flash of hunger he’d seen in her
eyes the night before. That their paths had crossed today could be no accident.

“I’d prefer if someone could take me to my car,” she
said. “It’s still up at Christy’s.”

“Then I’ll take you. It’s still a crime scene,” Noah
said when Nillson started to object.