Strong, Sleek and Sinful - By Lorie O'Clare Page 0,28
opportunity didn’t arise for her to get close to the victims. Kylie got to know the town, walked the streets where the victims had lived, and then stalked her predator, enticing him to make her his next victim. Then she struck, taking the perp down and putting him where he belonged, behind bars, where no teenager would be hurt again by his disgusting brutality.
Kylie went to the last bedroom, her bedroom, and opened the top drawer to her nightstand and pulled out the small key that unlocked the doorknob to the middle room. After unlocking it, she returned the key and made herself comfortable at the desk Paul had helped her set up the day before.
“He’s going to come back,” she whispered, chills rushing over her flesh at the same time a heat swelled inside her. “Even if he doesn’t have the evening off, or possibly it will be tomorrow, but you know he’s going to show up here again.”
She knew this beyond any doubt for two reasons. The first made her fingers trip over keys when she allowed the knowledge to sink into her brain. The physical attraction she felt for Perry was mutual. If he returned alone, she really needed to be on her toes. There wasn’t any evidence confirming his innocence or guilt yet.
“I need to know he’s innocent.” Which meant spending more time with him. Let that be the reason she wanted to see him again.
Swallowing the lump of apprehension that rose to her throat, she forced her attention to the computer, and to her task. An hour later, she was chatting with several kids and updating her Facebook page, making the kids she was chatting with her friends. At the same time, she had several other windows open to help her with knowledge of bands, movies, and other current events the kids were talking about.
She chatted with different kids from different schools, and after an hour she’d talked about everything from music and movies to sex.
Kylie worked to keep up with the fast-paced chatting without getting a headache as the kids, who ranged in age from thirteen to eighteen, openly talked about oral sex, French kissing, and whether or not they were virgins. It never ceased to amaze her how easy it was to get kids to talk openly online. And finally, when asked by a boy who was eighteen and enrolled at a local high school, she typed that she wasn’t a virgin and that sex was great.
As another private instant message box popped up in front of her, startling her with its popping sound, Kylie realized it was now dark outside. Her blinds were still open, and headlights trailed down the street when a car slowed and then parked in front of her house.
“He’s back,” she whispered, standing and closing the blinds while butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She glanced back at the computer screen and at the instant message box now sitting in the middle of her screen. “Oh, shit,” she hissed, sliding back into her chair.
The screen name at the top of the box was PeteTakesU. She stared at the message in the box: Do your parents know you like sex?
Kylie stared at the small flash drive where all her chats were being saved. Perry was walking up her sidewalk. Crap. Talk about bad timing.
Returning her attention to the instant message box, she typed: duh. PeteTakesU typed: LOL.
There was a firm knock on her door. Kylie stared at the far wall, as if she could see through it and take in the man standing outside her front door. The instant message box chimed again: You sound hot. Where are pictures of you?
On my Facebook profile. My profile is Kayla2010, same as my name here. G2G parents are near. She finished typing and minimized the chat box. Even though the program on the computer would save and log every chat she had, Kylie worked better saving her own chats. She liked being able to review them on her own, without having to head over to the field office to request seeing the logged files.
Her heart thumped in her chest when she turned off the light, locked the door to the middle room, and headed down the hall to the front door.
“Yes?” she said, placing her hand on the door handle and leaning against the front door.
“Open the door, Kylie.” Perry’s deep voice sounded all business—or pissed.
She slid the chain into place on the door and unlocked the dead bolt. Opening it as