Pitch Black by Leslie A. Kelly Read Free Book Online Page B

friend had exhibited a modicum of intelligence. But not enough to keep him from riding along to a cold and dark final destination.
    “Ahh, well.” He shrugged off the unease. Because misplaced loyalty was nearly as damning as outright stupidity. The world had no place for it.
    He studied the article on his computer screen for a moment longer, looking for nuances in the tone or quotes from the investigators that might hint at whether they had determined his involvement. The moment the FBI became part of the investigation, he’d know for sure, but there was no mention of that particular entity.
    Not yet, anyway. But there would be. His last taunting message to the boys’ parents, sent after he’d seen the story on the Wilmington news station’s Web site, had ensured it.
    Having studied every word of the article, and being unable to contact his latest project, the dull and unimaginative Wndygrl1, from here at work, he skipped over to another familiar site. The newest weekly “rant” column wouldn’t go up until late tomorrow night, and he would be alert and awake, hungering for her words, her thoughts, the entrée into her beautiful mind.
    Until then, he couldn’t resist reading over the entry from last Wednesday night. And the one from the week before. And the week before that. All the way back to the article warning about so-called finance ministers offering to make people rich.
    He tsk ed. “They really should listen to you, darling.”
    He’d certainly paid close attention. Close enough to know how to word his lure and cast his reel. He’d hooked quite a few prospects, but only one, young Mr. Todd, had followed the bait all the way into the net.
    “Youngsters. Can’t teach them anything.”
    Ahh, well. If the fools were incapable of appreciating the advice to be gained and the lessons to be learned on this, his favorite web site, he himself was not. After all, how better to test the intelligence of his prey than by seducing them with a promise that could be easily disproved with a few flicks of the fingers on a keyboard?
    Those too gullible to spend two minutes searching for the information that could save their lives didn’t deserve to live.
    As he gathered his things to leave for the day, he smiled in anticipation of tomorrow night’s column. The “deposed royalty” dating scheme was progressing nicely, but should be coming to its inevitable conclusion soon.
    After that it was anyone’s guess. He mightn’t find anything to amuse him for weeks, perhaps months. Or he could receive inspiration for his next project tomorrow at midnight. Not knowing simply heightened the excitement.
    Carefully choosing his destination to ensure safe distance from his real life, so he could cast his lures and toy with his online friend, Wendy, he drove into the cold winter evening. Though the car radio remained off, his fingers tapped on the steering wheel in time to an internal melody. It was classical and refined, nothing like the filth the people around him every day chose to listen to. The kind of music a woman with a brain would appreciate. Too bad he knew so few.
    Except her. A woman both smart and beautiful, she had become his muse, providing inspiration, quietly whispering suggestions through her articles.
    She was a kindred spirit, an inquisitive mind in a lovely physical package.
    He found himself thinking about her often. Dwelling in the memory of the softness of her skin when they touched. The slenderness of her hand in his own. The sheen of her hair. The lyrical sound of her voice.
    He knew everything about her—where she lived, whom she socialized with. Knew she was often alone, intelligent enough to know she needed no company. Oh, yes, he knew it all. He would, in fact, call himself her number one fan. A devotee.
    She had but one fault: her girlish desire to do good. But she could be cured of that, reformed. He knew a bit about curing the soul without crushing the spirit. He didn’t want to crush her; he