Leslie Parrish - Pitch Black

He said you could work on it.

Months ago, Wyatt Blackstone had told her she could offer assistance in the investigation into Satan’s Playground, the now defunct Internet world where the Reaper had aired his videos. There he had hooked up with a perverted client with the handle Lovesprettyboys who had paid to have a young boy raped and murdered for his viewing pleasure. That was the boy they’d saved. The boy who sometimes wore Zach’s face.

But while he hadn’t forbidden her to assist, Blackstone hadn’t been enthusiastic about it, either. He’d insisted that it not interfere with her current job. So she’d done it quietly. She’d offered after-hours assistance to the child-protection CAT trying to track down Lovesprettyboys and others like him.

She had no choice. Because since the moment she’d first seen the pedophile’s vicious avatar having his fun in the cyber world, she had known he had to be stopped before he could move his crimes to the real one. If he hadn’t already.

“You know this is probably a waste of time,” she said to Brandon as she glanced at her watch, wondering how much longer they would have to be here.

“I know. Unless this guy is some kind of idiot, he didn’t write from an IP address that might actually lead back to him.”

Judging from what she’d learned about their unsub in the past thirty-six hours, he most definitely wasn’t an idiot. He’d never be careless enough to use an easily traceable computer.

“Okay, I’ve isolated all the individual e-mails between Jason and this Dr. Waffi,” said the specialist, Parker, who sat before a state-of-the-art terminal. “They came from three areas: Philadelphia, Wilmington, and Trenton. I’ve been able to determine via some hidden software coding that they all came from the same computer. But the IP addresses come from a half dozen different servers, one of which, I can already tell you, is from a fast-food restaurant chain offering free wifi.”

“Playing terrorize-the-teen while scarfing a burger,” Brandon said. “Nice.”

Lily sighed. “So he packed up his laptop, cruised around to find hot spots in a tristate area, jumped online, and then moved on before writing again.”

“Looks like it,” Parker said. “As for the original message opening contact with Jason Todd, it looks like he used a ’bot net. Probably generated thousands of these ‘former finance minister’ letters, spammed them all over the place, and Jason was gullible enough to respond.”

Gullible enough. Or just a kid dreaming big.

The specialist continued going over his findings. As they’d supposed, the Professor hadn’t been stupid. He certainly wouldn’t have written from his home or work computer, and he would never have paid for Internet service at a café or a hotel, where there would be some record of his presence. Not when it was so easy to cruise around and steal access from any unsecured system. Sure, if they ever found a suspect, they would be able to link his computer to all the messages. But first they needed to find him.

Smothering her disappointment, Lily listened to the report, even while wishing Parker would hurry. When she spied a familiar face, she knew the wishes hadn’t helped. Damn .

“Hey, Fletcher, back so soon?”

Cursing her luck, she offered a brisk nod to the agent-Anspaugh-who was heading up the very investigation she’d been helping on.

“Caught another case,” she explained, hoping Brandon was paying careful attention to their own tech, and not her conversation.

“Is it a big one?”

She wasn’t sure how much Blackstone had shared beyond the walls of the Black CATs’ den. The BAU had to know they’d gotten a lead on the Professor, but that might be as far as it had gone. “Possibly.”

Anspaugh smirked, reminding her of how little she liked the man. He had a big bully’s personality and a big bully’s body, and, unfortunately, a big bully’s tiny brain to go with the package.

She liked him even less when he added, “So, did Blackstone manage to find another Reaper to justify his team’s existence?”

It wasn’t the first time Lily had heard snide comments from others in the bureau. Wyatt had burned bridges and made enemies by blowing the whistle on some of his colleagues. The evidence tampering and manipulation had run deep, from the forensics lab all the way up to the deputy director’s office, and a whole lot of heads had rolled. The friends of those heads placed the blame squarely on Blackstone, who’d done nothing more than the right thing.

“Why do you ask? Hoping to nose in the way you did the last time, with Satan’s Playground?” The retort didn’t come from Lily, but from Brandon, who had obviously been listening. Double damn .

“Cole,” Anspaugh said with a brief nod.

“I’m not sure you guys have thanked us enough for handing that case to you on a platter.”

Anspaugh’s body stiffened; he hadn’t liked taking somebody else’s leftovers, especially since the cyber playground had been belly-up before he’d gotten hold of the case. “Good thing you didn’t keep it yourselves. You mighta cost another teenager her head.”

Direct hit. Brandon ’s eyes narrowed behind his wire-framed glasses. Lily instinctively put a hand on his arm, though she felt the sting of the accusation, too. Because it was true. They hadn’t found the Reaper in time to save the last young woman who’d crossed his path. Her body had been found in the Pennsylvania woods a few days after her kidnapping.

“We were just leaving,” she said.

“Yeah, right. Let’s hit it, Tiger Lily,” Brandon muttered, snapping his gum as if he were trying to save his own tongue from being bitten off.

Anspaugh, pleased with himself for inspiring a reaction, turned his attention back to her. “You should stick around. We’re getting somewhere. It’s been a long trail, but we’re close to isolating Lovesprettyboys. We know his general vicinity; now we’re zoning in on his real identity.”

Lily had longed for that day for months. But now, she had another case to work. Her team needed her, and she wouldn’t have the time to help anyone else until the Professor was captured. “Keep me posted, okay? I’d like to hear how it pans out.”

His Cro-Magnon brow furrowed in confusion. Lily didn’t wait for him to ask why she was acting as if she had only an impartial interest. Her hand still gripping Brandon ’s arm, she tugged him toward the exit, not releasing him until they’d left the room.

“Asshole,” Brandon snapped.

“Yes.”

“Acting like Wyatt should hide and pretend he’s not even around anymore.”

“That’s exactly what some people want.”

Wyatt Blackstone had gone from rising superstar to ostracized outcast. After he’d blown the whistle and received public commendations, he had quietly been shoved into the Cyber Division. Handed a Cyber Action Team nobody thought would succeed, he’d been expected to keep his mouth shut and put in his time for the next twenty years until his retirement, never to be heard from again.

Fortunately her new boss wasn’t wired that way. He was given a job to do, and by God, he was going to do it.

“He should have gotten recognition after the Reaper case. Not to mention support and resources for the team.” Brandon sounded as frustrated as Lily felt when the subject came up.

He was absolutely right. But it hadn’t happened. Oh, they’d gotten credit for solving it, but the investigation hadn’t been deemed entirely successful. The team had known someone was going to be killed and had known how it would happen, yet they still hadn’t been able to prevent it. Plus, once they had identified him, the perpetrator had leaped out of the hands of justice by leaping into his own noose.