Last Breath by Michael Prescott Read Free Book Online Page B

a shot. You’ll see what I mean.”
    She was almost tempted to say yes, if only to get him off her back. And well, maybe for other reasons too. He really wasn’t a bad guy.
    But she knew she couldn’t date him. It was too soon—or too late—or something. “I’ve got to get going,” she said. “Better see what Adam wants.”
    “I can guess.” Tanner took off the shades, and she saw his gray eyes narrowed in thought. “He wants you, Killer—I mean C.J. You dumped him, and he hasn’t gotten over it.”
    “How do you know he didn’t dump me ?”
    “No way.” The glasses went back on, masking his eyes. “He wouldn’t be that dumb. No one would.”
    She thought she might blush, which would be a disaster, so she rallied her reserves of cynicism. “Thanks for the compliment. But you’re still not getting to first base.”
    “What’ve you really got against me, C.J.? I’m not as much of an asshole as I appear.”
    “I know that,” she said softly.
    “Do you?”
    “Sure.” She found a smile and beamed it into the black lenses of his sunglasses. “Nobody could be that much of an asshole. See you, Tanner.”
    She turned away, certain that the conversation was over, but Tanner surprised her.
    “I have a first name,” he said. “Better use it, unless you want me to go back to calling you Killer.”
    She looked at him. “See you ... Rick. That better?”
    “Sounded just fine.

7
     
     
    Rawls knew he should resist the temptation to visit the site again. He had more pressing priorities. Anyway, he and Brand were nearly done for the day. The sun had long since set, and when he peered through a gap in the drapes, he saw a crescent moon, low over the horizon, gleaming on sooty piles of unmelted snow. Baltimore in January. He shook his head and tried not to think about the chill wind gusting outside, or about the Web site that was unlocked with Bluebeard’s key.
    But he couldn’t help himself. His right hand, of its own accord, moved his mouse across the customized mouse pad displaying a family photo—himself, his wife Felicia, their son Philip—and guided the mouse pointer to the Internet browser icon on his screen.
    He logged onto the mystery site and returned to the page containing the video stream. He had hoped that by now the bedroom would be occupied; at least he would have a better idea of what was going on. But the room remained empty.
    Still sunny too. The sunlight had a slightly orange quality that suggested late afternoon. He checked his wristwatch: 6:47. Must be two or three hours earlier in the location he was observing. If the woman worked from nine to five, it might be an hour or longer before she showed up.
    Move along, folks, an inner voice chided. Nothing more to see here.
    Even so, he lingered at the site, his hand moving the mouse idly, letting the pointer breeze around the screen.
    In a corner of the screen the arrow icon changed to a pointing finger.
    Hidden link. He had stumbled on it by accident. The hypertext string had been rendered in white, making it invisible against the white background of the page.
    Rawls clicked the link, and a page opened in a new window, headlined VOTE TALLY.
    Below the headline were columns of figures alongside three names.
    MISS NOVEMBER 76
    MISS DECEMBER 54
    MISS JANUARY 109
    At the bottom of the page were the words Cast your ballot for the best babe of the bunch!
    “Three women,” Rawls said quietly.
    Brand looked up. “What’s that?”
    Rawls drummed his fingers on his desk. “The Bluebeard site. There have been three women under observation. The one whose bedroom is now on display is only the latest.”
    Brand got up and came around to look at his partner’s computer. “She’s Miss January, I take it.”
    “Must be.”
    “The most popular of them all. I’ll bet she’s a looker. She home yet?”
    “No.”
    “Shoot.” Brand was disappointed. “So what do you make of this?”
    “I’m not sure.” Rawls studied the screen. “Judging by