Predator (12 page)

S
ince the FBI didn’t want Ryan announcing that they were coming that night to spy on his employees’ computers, he could do nothing about them taking their laptops home. But that still left all of the desktop computers in the building, including those used on the customer service floors.

He let the cyber crimes agents in and paced the floor as they studied each computer’s cache, to see who had viewed Megan’s or Ella’s pages before their attacks. Because they were also working on his own computer, he lay on the couch in the Rumpus Room and tried to sleep while they worked. But sleep wouldn’t come.

Whose phone had sent Megan that text? Could it be someone here at GrapeVyne? Could he be working with an evil serial killer?

It couldn’t be any of his engineers. But maybe it was someone he didn’t know well. Someone from customer service. He hoped the agents found what they were looking for.

When they’d finally narrowed it down to sixteen computers that had viewed Megan’s or Ella’s pages in the days prior to their attacks, they enlisted Ryan’s help. He went from one computer to another with an agent named Levin, looking to see how the page was viewed, and what business that employee might have had there.

He sat down at Sharon Crain’s computer. “Sharon’s one of my photo screeners. So she could have legitimately hit both girls’ pages if they posted any photos.”

“Megan posted one just minutes before her kidnapping,” Agent Levin said. “Ella posted one the morning of her disappearance. So what does Sharon do here?”

Ryan showed them. “We try to filter out porn. So her job is to delete pictures that are pornographic. I only have women doing this, since the men might get hung up on it.”

“Makes sense.”

He pulled up a screen with a hundred thumbnail snapshots. “These are some of the pictures that were uploaded to our site today. Sharon would scan these pretty quickly, deleting anything that catches her attention.” He skimmed the page, found a picture that wasn’t appropriate, pointed it out.

“So technically, Sharon wouldn’t have necessarily gone to Megan’s page. She just would have looked at the photos Megan uploaded, and that would register as a hit on her page.”

“Right,” Levin said.

“She may not have even done more than glance at it. Moving at the pace she does, she would move right past it.”

“Okay, she’s fine. We’re looking for a man, anyway.”

They moved on to the next six on the list, who were also women who did the same task.

The next person on the list was someone in customer service. They pulled his computer up, and Ryan did a search to see how he’d used the girls’ pages. “Okay,” he said. “This guy checks for spam operations. Whenever a member adds too many Friends in one day, he goes to their sites to make sure they’re not just hitting people with spam.”

“What kind of client would do that?”

“Bands, for instance, or authors, or any other commercial enterprise that’s using our site to advertise. There are parameters they have to abide by according to our Terms of Service.”

“Can you tell if either of the girls did that on the day he viewed their pages?”

Ryan went deep into their program and pulled up a spreadsheet. “Yep. Megan added thirty-five new Friends three days before her attack, the same day this guy viewed her page. Perfectly legit.”

“All right, let’s move on.”

They went through everyone else on the list, and in every case, there was a reason the employee was drawn to Megan’s or Ella’s pages.

By the time they were finished, it was 4:00 a.m. Ryan felt the stress in his neck and down his back.

“So that covers every computer except for the laptops that went home last night?” Levin asked.

“Right. Those and the computers at Willow,” Ryan said.

“Wait. Willow has access to GrapeVyne members?”

“Technically, yeah. They handle the advertising data, so they have servers with information about our members.”

“Then we’ll need to examine their computers too.”

Ryan shrugged. “Guys, I don’t have any access to Willow.
I’m not even allowed to go through their building without security. They’re extra tight over there.”

“Then who do we need to contact?”

“One of the executives at Willow. John Stanley, Henry Hearne, or the big guy himself, Marvin Bainbridge.”

Levin sighed and looked at his watch. “Well, we’re probably not likely to get anyone on the phone tonight. If we have to go through those guys, we’ll have to have a subpoena and search warrant. By the time we get all that, the killer could have deleted all his information.”

It only then occurred to Ryan that he should have demanded a search warrant too. But that wouldn’t help them find the killer any faster. He’d wanted to help in any way he could. “Good luck with that, guys.”

“Maybe you could put in a word, get them to invite us to do the same thing over there.”

“They don’t listen to me,” Ryan said. “They have their own agenda, and they’re pretty tough to convince of anything. I’m the stepchild of the whole company. They can’t ignore me completely, though, because of how much money GrapeVyne makes the company.”

By the time the agents left, Ryan was wiped out. He locked up behind them, got a change of clothes out of one of the file cabinets in his office, and went to take a shower. When he’d gotten dressed, he stretched out on the couch again and tried to get a couple of hours’ sleep before his people began arriving for work.

B
rennie was a good friend. On the first day of classes, she drove Megan to the Liberal Arts building and let her out at the curb. Though Megan had learned to get around fine with the crutches, walking all the way across campus was a little too difficult, especially with a backpack on her back. After class, her friend Jennifer, who didn’t have class until the afternoon, would pick her up and deliver her back to the dorm.

Staying around other people at all times would keep the killer from coming for her. At least, that was what she hoped. But he was bold and hungry, and didn’t think like a sane person.

She limped into her class and took a seat at the back of the room. A couple of people spoke softly to her as she
passed. Others just regarded her with sad eyes. Some ignored her altogether, as if they feared embarrassing her.

She emptied her backpack and laid her books on her desk, then slipped into it. One of the girls who’d spoken when she came in got up and came to her. “Do you need something to prop your foot on? I could run get you a chair.”

Already she could feel her leg swelling under the brace. Propping it up would help. “If you don’t mind,” she said. “I don’t want you to be late.”

“No problem, I have plenty of time.” The girl rushed out and came back in with a folding chair.

She set it up sideways, then lifted Megan’s leg and carefully placed it on the chair.

“Better?”

“Much. Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

The girl went back to her seat as the rest of the class filed in. Finally, the professor came in. Megan had had her before and knew how tough she was. The only way to pass her class was to take copious notes, then spend hours going over them. She tried to focus as the woman began.

Ten minutes in, she found herself watching the door, almost expecting the killer to step into the doorway with an AK-47 and mow down the entire class, just to make sure Megan died. Her heart raced, her chest felt tight again. Her vision went from bright to black, then back again.

“Miss Quinn? Are you all right?”

She blinked. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“You looked like you were about to faint.”

She decided to make a joke of it. “My skin looks really white against the black of my bruises.”

Nervous chuckles rippled over the room.

“Let me know if you need anything,” the professor said.

Compassion from this, the most hardened of her professors? She felt that shame again. She hated pity.

She tried to tune back into the lecture, but couldn’t focus. Her gaze drifted across the room. Several students had their cell phones on their desks, carefully hidden behind the people in front of them, texting. Some of them were probably Tweeting or doing Facebook, or filling in Thought Bubbles on GrapeVyne. She felt that panic again, and she wanted to fly out of her seat and beg everyone to stop telling the world where they were at every moment of the day. She wanted to beg them not to mention that she was in this room. She wanted to tell them that their lives were like vapor, and that they could evaporate as quickly as Karen’s life had. That evil lurked in cyberspace, and may be lurking in the halls of academia.

But she stayed quiet, trying to write down what her lecturer said. By the end of the class, perspiration dripped from her face. She tried to control her breathing, in…deep breath…out…long breath.

When they were dismissed, she found herself afraid to step outside the room. But she had to. Everyone was leaving. She couldn’t be found here alone. She got up and loaded her books back in, slipped on her backpack, and put her crutches under her arms. When she went through the building’s glass doors, she saw Jennifer waiting in her car. As she went toward it, she looked from side to side for a brown-haired man who personified evil.

She didn’t see him anywhere. But she knew he was around, somewhere, waiting for the right time.

R
yan wished he could skip the Tuesday board meeting, because he knew what was coming. Reports of his visit to the hospital last week hadn’t just come and gone—for the past week the
Houston Chronicle
had had daily editorials about GrapeVyne’s responsibility in the murders. He’d already had lengthy conversations with each of the board members, but none of them was satisfied. And if they’d found out that the FBI had swarmed the place last night, and that he’d allowed them in without a warrant…well, it would only get worse. So as soon as the meeting was scheduled, he’d invited Krista to speak to them. Maybe hearing her plea for changes would make them listen to his ideas for change.

Fighting the fatigue in his bones, he headed down the stairs. When he got to the second-floor landing, he saw
down to the first floor, where Krista waited nervously in the lobby. She had her laptop open on her knees, probably going over her PowerPoint presentation.

She looked as tired as he. Maybe they should have done this another day.

As he hit the first floor, he crossed the lobby to Krista. “You ready for this?”

She closed her laptop and stood up. “I don’t know. I’ll do my best.”

He met her red eyes, noted the shadows under them. “You okay?”

“Just tired. I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Yeah, me either. We can do it another day if you want to.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s important. I want to do it now.”

“Okay, then let’s do it. We meet next door, in the Willow Internet Division. Come on with me. You’ll have to wait downstairs until I can let the board know you’re coming. I’ll call you up when it’s time. That place…they have more security than we have, so you have to stay in the lobby until I get them to come down and get you.”

“What’s all the security about?” she asked as they went out and crossed the lawn to Willow.

“Industrial spies,” he said. “A lot of companies would love to get some of our code and check out our technology. And then there are hackers, who could get in and mess up accounts. Willow has a lot of interests, and way more equipment and computers and companies than we do.”

He said good-bye to her in the Willow lobby, then went with a security guard onto the elevator.

His hands were clammy as he got to the conference room and pulled the door open. The board members were
around the table already, sipping coffee. Newspapers were strewn across the table.

They all looked up at him. No one was smiling.

“Hello, gentlemen.” He set his briefcase down, pulled out his laptop, and took his seat at the table. “I see you’ve been reading the papers.”

Henry Hearne sat with arms crossed over his chest. The other board members had looks of restrained anger on their faces. The silence was deafening.

Ryan hated this. The whole reason he’d started a business in college was so he wouldn’t have bosses to answer to. Now he had a roomful of them.

“Look, I know you guys are upset. Who knew the chatter about my hospital visit would go on this long? But I think one sure way to put it to rest is to help locate this killer.”

“Kid, do you have any idea how you’ve made us look?” Henry asked, his chin set.

“I hope I made us look like we have compassion for the victims, and concern for finding this madman.”

“Are you blind?” John Stanley bit out. “The news isn’t touting our
compassion.
They’re making us look like a shopping center for predators.”

“I know what they’re saying, but I plan to do a few interviews explaining the new security measures we’re going to implement and letting people know that we’re as concerned as they are about what’s going on.”

“No, absolutely not.” Henry sat straighter and pointed at him. “You will not do any interviews. You will stay out of the public eye until this blows over.”

Ryan looked at the man who’d been his mentor. Was he really forbidding him? “Henry, I represent GrapeVyne. I created it. No one cares more about it than I do. We can do the right thing without hurting revenue.”

John Stanley coughed into his hand, cleared his throat. “What security measures are you referring to, Ryan? Because I don’t recall agreeing to any new measures.”

Ryan thought of going over his ideas, but these men were in no mood for that. Maybe Krista could soften them up. “If we could just pause this discussion for a little while, I have someone here who’d like to weigh in. I’ve asked Krista Carmichael to come speak to us today, so that you can see from her perspective what needs to be done.”

Henry hit the table. “I’m not interested in her perspective! How dare you invite her here without clearing it with us first? You are not in control here, Ryan! You are an employee of this company!”

“Henry, I’m asking you to hear her out. Her sister’s dead! She deserves twenty minutes of our time. Then we’ll discuss it.”

Henry looked at John Stanley, then at the others. Turning his palms up and muttering, “Unbelievable,” he sat back hard in his chair.

Ryan knew this was not a good idea, but he couldn’t leave Krista sitting down in the lobby. It would be too embarrassing to tell her that he didn’t have enough clout, as CEO of GrapeVyne, to make the board members listen to her. He hoped they’d put their anger on ice until she was finished.

Ryan called security and asked them to escort Krista to the conference room. When she came in, he moved his chair to the side and plugged her computer into the projector. He introduced her, but the board members couldn’t have been colder.

That clearly made her nervous. Her voice was shaky as she started her plea for changes, but after the first moment or so, that passion he’d heard as she’d spoken to the high
school kids returned. He watched the closed faces of his board members as she spoke, and tried to keep her going with encouraging looks.

When she was finished, he thanked her and escorted her out. He knew the men were slashing him with their tongues, lambasting him behind his back. When he returned to the conference room, they did it to his face.

“Ryan, we’re busy men. The next time you want to parade a victim in front of us, why don’t you ask us if we’d like to hear it?”

“It’s pertinent to what’s going on,” he said. “Did you hear anything she said?”

Henry cut in. “We heard plenty, Kid.”

“And you still don’t want to make changes?”

“There’s no need. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

Ryan couldn’t leave it at that. “All right. What if I told you that the killer is still taunting Megan Quinn? That the moment she bought a new cell phone, she saw a text from him? And when police pinged the number the text came from, they found the phone…in our Dumpster.”

Everyone gaped at him.

“What are you saying, Ryan?” Henry asked.

“I’m saying that the killer could very well be someone who works here.”

“That’s absurd!”

“Is it? The people who work in these buildings have access to a lot of information. They wouldn’t have to be accepted as Friends. They could get on anyone’s account, anytime, and gather all the information they need. And whether you accept that or not doesn’t matter. The FBI is looking into it.”

John rubbed his face. “This is getting worse and worse. Has this cell phone business gotten out to the press?”

“Not yet. But it’s just a matter of time. That’s another reason we need to make these changes. Even if we implement a Band-Aid fix, it would make us look like we were trying to do the right thing. In fact, let’s get crazy and actually
do
the right thing. Henry, I’d like for you to give us the software for Willow’s Data-Gather program. My team would like to take that software and modify it with some new search strings that might help us locate the killer.”

Henry looked as if he’d just been asked to sacrifice one of his children. “Absolutely not. That software isn’t for anyone’s eyes but those in my employ who’ve been given clearance for it.”

“But we’re your employees too. We can be trusted. I’d only give access to my people at the top tier of GrapeVyne, and they know what they’re doing.”

Henry passed a do-you-believe-this look to his colleagues. “We’re already gathering all the data we need. Tell me what you want, and we’ll get you that information ourselves.”

Ryan didn’t like it. If he did it that way, anyone on Willow’s staff could leave out the info they didn’t want him to have. No, he’d feel better if his own people were doing it. He leaned back in his chair. “Why won’t you trust us with it?”

“Because if one of your people ever leaves GrapeVyne, they’ll take that information with them. I don’t want them to have it. It’s proprietary information…”

“That information technically belongs to the individual GrapeVyne members, not Willow. Besides, my employees won’t leave GrapeVyne if we keep them happy here. And even if they did, these are people with integrity. They’re not going to pirate that software. In fact, they could probably build their own, and it would be even better than what you’ve got. But that would take time. I want this done immediately, and you already have it.”

Hearne set his jaw. “Not going to happen. Sorry, Kid.”

He could see in the man’s face that he wasn’t going to change his mind, so he let up. It was probably a good thing, after all, that Ian had hacked into their computers and had already gotten the software. Henry underestimated the power of Ryan’s team.

He changed gears back to PR. “Can you at least look at this from a marketing standpoint? We could be the company that cares. We could make other social networks look like they don’t care. It could actually drive business to our community. And again, I’m willing to do interviews setting the record straight. But first I have to have something to tell them. Changes we’re making. We need to decide on what to do, and fast.”

“I say we implement a study to see how much revenue will be lost with each suggested change. Then we can decide,” John said.

Ryan sighed. “All right, I’ll get it started immediately. But I hope you understand that timing is of the essence. The sooner we act, the sooner we can stop these predators from going after our customers. These Houston murders have got to stop, and we might be the ones to stop them. Don’t you want to be heroes?”

His board members only stared at him.