His Personal Mission Read online

  For one of the few times since he’d known her, she looked as if she didn’t know what to say. And at this point, neither did he.

  “We’ve been through this before. We should get back to work,” he said, rather abruptly. “You really think she…fell for this guy online?”

  Sasha seemed glad of the switch. “I think there’s something to the idea. All of a sudden the world was a brighter, more colorful, happier place. And if, as you said, her getting into her choice of schools wasn’t that doubtful, maybe it wasn’t simply getting accepted that changed her outlook.”

  “Damn,” Ryan muttered.

  “That’s also about the time that ‘SadBreeze’ appeared on her friends list. And they exchanged a lot of public posts that got a bit more than casual before they suddenly stopped.”

  He’d seen that, had registered the name and wondered, but because they’d stopped, he hadn’t gone beyond that. But Sasha’s phrasing made him realize he should have.

  “Public…you mean you think they went private?” He could think of several reasons a communication like that would go underground, and he didn’t like any of them. “You think they got even more personal? Starting saying things they didn’t want the whole world to see?”

  “Maybe. She kept chatting with others publicly, including some guys, but this guy suddenly vanished. Did you check his page?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t spend a lot of time,” Ryan said, turning back to his own keyboard and calling it back up.

  “When did he show up?”

  Ryan checked. “About a year ago. A month after Trish.”

  “Does he talk about where he lives?”

  He vaguely remembered a photo of the Space Needle, but checked the profile before saying, “It says near Seattle. Across Puget Sound.”

  “What’s he look like?”

  Ryan blinked. “I don’t know. A guy. Dark hair, kind of tall, I guess, judging by this pic with his buddies.”

  Sasha leaned over to look. “Killer grin,” she observed. “Pretty cut, too. Tan, sparkly teeth…very cute. Yeah, a teenage girl would be ripe for that.”

  She said it with such detachment it almost amused him. Almost. “It says he’s got dogs, and a horse. So they’d have that in common.”

  Sasha scanned the entries, the pictures and captions. Stopped at one of a lolling pair of Golden Retrievers and read it aloud, “‘I know it’s way too emo, but I love my dogs. They’re the coolest.’ Nice touch, the sheepish embarrassment about a tender feeling. Very masculine, but guaranteed to melt any girl’s heart.”

  Ryan’s mouth quirked. “If only I’d known.”

  Sasha flashed him a quick smile, the tension between them apparently forgotten now they were back on the hunt.

  “The posts he left on her page said he found her because he searched for people who liked what he liked, and they had everything in common.”

  “Looks like they do,” Ryan said.

  “Or he wanted her to think they do. She was pretty open on her page.”

  “Meaning?”

  “His page came after hers. He could have set it up to mirror hers. Lure her in with the similarities, make her think she’d met her soul mate.”

  “You mean he set it all up? That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? After all, the whole purpose of these sites is to meet people with like interests, right?”

  “But you’re not meeting them actually doing those things. You only have what they say to go by.”

  “But to set up a whole page just to get one girl to think you have stuff in common?”

  “It happens. And at that age, when this started, girls are very vulnerable. Their emotions are confused and complicated. It makes them easy prey.”

  “Prey?” He didn’t like the sound of that.

  “They think they’re getting romance, someone who really cares about them, who wants to know them, and be with them forever. What they’re really getting is some jerk of a guy looking for no-strings sex.”

  No strings, that’s the way for me….

  His own thought flashed through his mind, jolting him. He shifted uncomfortably, glad that her lightning-quick brain hadn’t progressed to being able to read his mind. She was worried Trish had run into someone intent on only one thing. Someone who wanted not a long-term commitment, but carefree, heart-free, un-entangled sex.

  Someone like him.

  Damn, he muttered to himself.

  He didn’t like the thought of being like some teenage Romeo. He wondered if Sasha had meant the observation as a jab at him, told himself he was doing it again, making it all about him. It didn’t help much.

  He should have known. He should have known this would happen. She would toss his life into turmoil.

  She always had.

  Distracted, he only belatedly arrived at where Sasha already had.

  “You think she’s gone to meet him? This kid?”

  “Let’s hope.”

  He blinked. “What? You want her to have taken off to meet some kid she met online?”

  “I meant, let’s hope it’s a kid. That he’s for real.”

  His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that he’s acted exactly like a horny kid who’s out to seduce some impressionable young girl.”

  He managed not to wince at the unflattering portrait, given his own recent thoughts. “And?”

  “That’s also the way many Internet predators operate.”

  “Internet preda—”

  He broke off as her meaning hit home. Hard. “God, I’m an idiot,” he breathed. “How could that not be the first thing I thought of? Me, of all people?”

  “Your emotions are involved,” Sasha said gently. “Nobody thinks clearly when their emotions are in high gear.”

  “But it’s my work! I should have—”

  “You would have. Eventually. You know how they set up an entire false front, a persona, incredibly detailed. All a mask for who they really are.”

  Ryan felt a queasiness in the pit of his stomach. The thought of Trish being talked into hooking up with some kid she’d never laid eyes on before was one thing. The thought of his little sister in the hands of some pervert who used networks like this to lure girls was something else altogether.

  “That’s one of the things I meant,” Sasha added quietly, “when I said sometimes computers can be weapons. Or, I suppose, traps. Snares.”

  He wanted to smash something. And the computer sitting there glowing, tempting, was the best target he could see.

  Snares. His beloved computers. Trish.

  No matter what happened, he knew nothing was ever going to be the same for him.

  Chapter 9

  “We’ve already gone through all her cell phone bills. There are no strange numbers, just the usual,” Ryan said. “And I tried a GPS trace, but it’s not registering.”

  “She may have not actually talked to the guy. It’s not uncommon for the whole thing to be conducted online.”

  Especially if the guy isn’t who he says he is and knows his voice will give him away, Ryan thought, his stomach knotting once more. He tried to quash it by asking his next question.

  “If she paid cash for an airplane ticket, how do we find out if that’s really where she went?” He gave Sasha a sideways look as she dialed a number on her cell. “Short of hacking into the airline Web sites, that is. Not that I couldn’t do it, but it’s kind of frowned on these days.”

  “It was always frowned on,” Sasha said, as blandly as if he’d been talking about stealing a drink from a public water fountain. “It’s just that today there are teeth behind the frown.”

  “Then what do we—”

  He stopped when she held up a hand.

  “Lauren? Sasha Tereschenko. Yes, it has been a while, but that’s good, isn’t it?”

  There was a pause, then Sasha laughed. “Yes. How is that darling little girl of yours?”

  She listened, apparently to a gushing mother, before getting down to business. Ryan
tried to rein in his impatience. But he could tell by the change in her tone when she shifted gears.

  “I need the usual. Except this one’s personal.” Ryan liked that she felt that way. “I know without the police involved and a warrant you can’t tell me specifically what I need to know, but can I tell you what I think and you tell me if I’m right? Or at least tell me if I’m warm, so I don’t waste precious time in the wrong skies, so to speak?”

  Ryan was still working that one out when Sasha went on.

  “One week ago, on Tuesday. Trish Barton. Southern California airport, probably John Wayne, to Seattle.” There was another pause. “I know it’s a pain when there are so many possible airports, but I think O.C. is a good bet.” A pause again. “Thanks, Lauren. And send me a photo of that kidlet.”

  When she’d hung up, Ryan lifted a brow at her.

  “Lauren Shepherd. She used to be a travel agent, now she’s on an FAA committee. She’s worked with us before.”

  “They let her do this kind of check?”

  “Usually it’s the police who come at her with a warrant or the promise of one, and we’re just the liaison. But Lauren would do anything for Westin, and for Zach.”

  She seemed to hesitate. He just waited for her to go on. She seemed surprised, but then she’d always said patience had never been his strong suit. Finally she answered.

  “Zach found her little girl, when she was taken by a sex offender neighbor. And he found her before the creep had the chance to do anything. Lauren or her husband would probably kill for Zach if need be.”

  He had the feeling she meant that quite literally.

  “She’s good,” Sasha added reassuringly. “If Trish is there to be found, she’ll find her.”

  “What if she doesn’t?”

  “Then we try something else.”

  “And what if we can’t find anything else? What if she really just vanished?”

  Sasha eyed him with an odd sort of intentness. “And tell me, mister sunshine, when did you become a pessimist?”

  After you walked out of my life, he almost said.

  “This is my little sister,” he managed to say instead.

  “Yes,” Sasha said gently, “it is.”

  Her mouth curved just slightly upward. He wondered what the hell there was to smile about. Especially when confronted with the possibility that Trish had been lured by some twisted, dirty old man posing as a teenager. He knew it happened, he’d just never expected it to happen to anyone he knew.

  Let alone someone he loved.

  Sasha continued her perusal of Trish’s page while she waited for Lauren to return her call. She knew the woman had picked up on the urgency in her voice, knew that she would set all else aside for the time it took to get her answer. She’d meant what she’d told Ryan; Lauren or Mike Shepherd would probably risk anything for Westin and Zach. So they were always careful not to ask too much, or push her for anything that would get her in trouble.

  The more she looked at the page, the more she was convinced she was on the right track. There was just something…giddy about the tone of Trish’s entries after she and SadBreeze had been exchanging comments for about a month. Even the entries that weren’t to him, or about him, held that same excitement, as if the endorphins of falling in love had spilled over into all aspects of her life and outlook.

  Not that she knew from firsthand experience. She didn’t. She’d never been in love like that. Maybe it went hand in hand with that pessimism Ryan accused her of.

  You’re always looking for the dark side. Doing what you do, how could you not?

  His words came back to her then. They had been fairly perceptive. Yet another apparent change in a guy who before had rarely even thought about the way people reacted, let alone why.

  When her cell rang, the quiet, discreet ring she’d chosen to be the least disturbing to frantic parents, she grabbed it quickly.

  “Lauren?”

  “You’re in friendly skies, Sasha. Your bird definitely flew.”

  “Bless you, Lauren.”

  “Oh, no. You have that backward.”

  When she disconnected the call and closed her phone, she turned to look at Ryan. He looked like he was holding his breath.

  “We were right. She flew to Seattle.”

  He let out the breath. “You were right.”

  He spoke the correction mildly, but she appreciated the distinction. Or rather, that he’d felt compelled to make it; she didn’t care who got the credit as long as the job got done.

  “Now what?” he asked, clearly deferring to her expertise.

  “First, we need to find out everything we can about this guy. If he’s who he purports to be, then we may have some time. If he’s not…”

  His jaw tightened, and she knew he understood. If they were dealing with a simple teenage romance, or even some more nefarious kind of teenage game, that was one thing.

  Dealing with an adult masquerading as a teen for his own evil purposes was something else entirely.

  “Is this where I come in?” he asked, his voice nearly as tight as the muscles of his jaw.

  “It would go a lot quicker than if I tried,” Sasha said. “But I don’t want to get Westin in trouble.”

  “Since what I’m about to do isn’t exactly by the book?”

  She looked at him levelly. “Yes. Problem?”

  “It’s my sister. No problem.” He stood up abruptly. “And you’re right, I don’t want you, or this place, to get into any trouble. I’ll do it from my place. I have a couple of programs on my computer that might help.”

  She stood up then as well, glad to be moving. “Let’s go.”

  He went still for a moment, clearly nonplussed. At the mere idea of her setting foot in his inner sanctum? She never had, before. She knew where he lived—if he was in the same place—but she’d never been inside.

  “All right,” he finally said.

  Face it, she reminded herself as they headed back outside to the courtyard parking area, you were too hot for him to trust yourself to go home with him.

  Besides, it would only have confirmed her suspicions, she was sure. It would be so full of his beloved computers and nothing else, and that would have depressed her.

  But now, it didn’t matter anymore. And now, the more and better computer equipment he had, the better for their purpose: finding Trish.

  She was aware of his easy stride as they walked. She’d not been surprised to learn he’d had some skill as an athlete, being a promising baseball player before the lure of computers had overtaken him.

  “Do you ever play baseball anymore?”

  He looked startled. “I…Yeah, now and then. Some guys from Redstone get together and take on some other guys, just for fun.”

  “Good,” she said, not sure why she cared. So not sure that she quickly changed the subject. “Do you want to go by and pick up your car from The Grill and take it home, then I’ll follow?”

  He nodded. “Good idea.”

  They made the drive back to the popular restaurant in relative silence. Ryan sat staring out the front, his fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest as if he were already at his keyboard. She stayed quiet, assuming he was planning his approach, if that’s how you did such things. She was competent with computers, in that she could get what she wanted and needed done, could hook up peripherals and get them to work, and had even helped a girlfriend set up a wireless network, but she knew Ryan was on a whole different level.

  When they got to The Grill, he directed her to the side of the building, where the locals knew to park because the building itself provided shade in the afternoons, critical in the heat of a Southern California summer. She was a little surprised when he pointed at a bright blue PT Cruiser.

  “New car?”

  He shrugged. “I have to lug around equipment sometimes. It’s easer than having to switch back and forth to a Redstone truck or van all the time.”

  “Cute,” she said, wondering why he winced at the
word. “Are you still in the same apartment?”

  “No. I’ve got a condo down off Coast Highway. You can follow me.” She wasn’t sure what her expression had been, but he grimaced. “Don’t look so shocked. A guy can’t live in a tiny apartment forever.” He shot her a sideways look before adding, “Besides, I needed more room for my computers. You know, my only friends?”

  “I never said that!”

  “Bet you thought it, though.”

  She had, in her more sour moments, even knowing it wasn’t strictly true. “I knew you had friends,” she said. “I just wasn’t sure you had any that didn’t live and breathe computers.”

  “A couple,” he said. “Now I have more.”

  She wondered if that was a jab. Told herself it didn’t matter, because if it was she probably had it coming. It seemed Ryan had grown up a bit in the past two years. It didn’t seem that long a time, and she herself didn’t think she was that much different than she had been, but she’d always heard it happened later for guys, the maturing thing.

  She’d also heard that for some, it never happened at all. She’d pretty much put Ryan in that category when she’d walked away from him. Now she was wondering if maybe she’d been a little hasty. He seemed different, in some ways at least.

  He drove toward the ocean with a bit of urgency but no recklessness, she noticed, changing lanes to gain some speed now and then in the coastal traffic, but not crazily. He was in a hurry, but wanted to get there alive.

  She was surprised when they turned into a newer, slightly upscale two-story complex set on a hill that had a partial view of the Pacific over the tops of the buildings below. It wasn’t one of those luxury places, but it was better than nice.

  She caught his gesture as he pointed at a series of unmarked spaces labeled guest parking, in a gap between the series of individual garages they were driving along. She flipped on her turn signal to show him she understood, and pulled into one of the empty spaces.

  She picked up the folder of things she’d printed out from Trish’s page, things she hadn’t gone through yet. She’d brought them figuring she’d go through them while Ryan was…doing whatever it was he was going to do.