The Rogue Reviewer (Primrose, Minnesota Book 3) (16 page)

“166.137.134.25.”

“What the heck am I writing?”

“This computer’s IP address.”

“Why?”

She stuck her tongue in her cheek.
“Curiosity.”

“Dara, you are one smart chick. You’re going
to trace your emails aren’t you?”

“To the best of my ability.” She pressed a
few more keys until the login screen reappeared. She stood and
shouldered her purse. “Bury that piece of paper deeply in your
pocket.”

“I’ll do better than that.” Marnie grinned as
she reached under her blouse and poked the paper into her bra.

“You’ve read too many novels.” She turned the
knob and gestured her best friend out with a wave of her arm.

“Only yours, Dara.” Marnie returned a
mischievous grin. “Only yours.”

Once she’d dropped Marnie off at home, Dara
headed to her townhouse with the IP address tucked in her skirt
pocket. Anxious to investigate, she went straight into the house,
poured herself a glass of wine, and nestled into the cushions of
her sofa with her laptop in tow. She would have to answer her email
alone. Since Reagan had a double shift and Annie had a deadline,
they had all agreed to skip DRAMA this week. She really missed
meeting with her friends. Distraction would be nice.

She powered up her laptop and scanned the
home page as she sipped her wine. Then she updated her Facebook
page and read her Twitter feed. The paper crinkled in her pocket as
she changed positions. It wasn’t that she procrastinated, really,
answering mail just didn’t feel right without her girls. However,
it needed to be done.

She took a big gulp of wine and clicked on
the envelope icon. Twenty seven unread messages appeared on the
screen and as usual, a familiar address joined the ranks. She
replied to each one, purposely saving the familiar address for
last.

Dearest Dara:

Once again you have filled my heart with your
beautiful words.

Your stories burst to life on the page.

That cocky reviewer had no right to demean
your work.

She has been silenced and will never have the
opportunity to do it again.

This is my gift to you.

I remain,

Romantically Devoted

Dara read the message again, hoping upon hope
the words would change and knowing, of course, they wouldn’t.
Adrenaline filled her veins while she opened the previous messages
from the same author. How could she have misinterpreted them? A
cold shiver traveled her body. Her biggest fan had most likely
killed The Rogue Reviewer!

She frantically clicked more keys, digging
deeper behind the source of the messages. Finally, the information
she sought flashed on the screen. There, in black and white was the
IP address of the computer Romantically Devoted used to send the
messages. With a hard swallow, she pulled the piece of paper from
her pocket and held it to the computer screen. Something between
relief and disappointment poked her when she discovered the two
numbers did not match.

Still not deterred, she folded the paper in
half, tossed it to the cushion, and began to type again. She surfed
the information highway for several minutes, elated when once again
she found exactly what she needed. Now extremely determined, she
shoved her computer to the side, grabbed her cell phone from her
purse, and dialed Marnie.

She didn’t even give Marnie time to say
hello
. “Grab your catsuit. We’ve got another lead.”

“Dara,” her friend drawled, “we are not Bond
girls and I refuse to burglarize anything.”

“I’ll pick you up in a few.” She
disconnected, stuck her phone in her bra, grabbed her purse and
keys and literally flew out the door.

Just as she pulled out of the parking lot and
onto the street, a fleeting thought that she should consult Mace
crossed her mind. She quickly dispelled that brief insanity and
accelerated. She fully intended to fill in him, just not until she
had more information.

Marnie waited at the curb in front of her
house, dressed in black from head to toe.

“I was kidding!” Dara giggled at her friend’s
wardrobe.

“I figured what the hell? Might as well have
some fun. Now, spill.”

“You will never guess in a million years what
I have to tell you. I can’t
believe
I didn’t figure it out
before now! Really Marnie, this is big. Huge!”

Marnie grabbed her shoulder and gave it a
shake. “I need to know …. Now!”

“You know I like to build tension.” She
swatted at the other woman’s hand. “It makes things more
dramatic.”

“Well, I don’t. I’m
dying
over
here.”

“Marnie!” Dara smashed her breaks and watched
Marnie’s neck wobble like a bobblehead. “You know how I feel about
that word!”

“Sorry,” her friend mumbled as she pounded
her forehead with the palm of her hand.

“Stop. You’ll give yourself a headache.”

“Then tell me!”

“I know who killed Evelyn.”

Marnie’s eyes widened and Dara thought her
eyeballs might possible pop from the sockets. “No freakin’
way.”

“I do. It was Romantically Devoted.”

“You’re sure?”

“Almost one hundred percent.” She gave Marnie
all the sordid details.

“I think you’re right,” her best friend
agreed. “So how do we find out the person behind Romantically
Devoted?”

“I researched online. I have the IP address
of the computer used to send me the messages. We’re headed there
now.”

“You hacked your way through it again, didn’t
you?”

Dara shrugged. “All in the name of research,
really.”

“Wait, we’re not going to his house, are
we?”

“No, even I’m not that devoted to research.
When I searched the IP address, it gave me a physical address.
We’re on our way to
Café Latte
.”

“He used a public computer?”

“I guess so. I’ll know as soon as I get
inside and match the numbers.”

Dara pulled into an empty parking spot and
they went inside. Six computers occupied one wall and at the late
hour, not one of them were occupied.

“Lucky us.” She grabbed a few dollar bills
from her purse and handed them to Marnie. “Get whatever you want,
my treat. I’d like a caramel iced latte.”

She left her friend at the counter while she
sat behind one of the computers and began to type. After several
unsuccessful attempts to log in, she sat back and frowned.

Marnie set the cups of coffee on a nearby
table and then took the chair in front of the computer next to her.
“What’s this code on my ticket?”

Dara almost fell from her chair in relief.
“That’s the password. Can you read it to me?”

“Caf76vg4.”

Within seconds, she had logged in and
maneuvered around each screen until a series of numbers flashed in
front of her. She pulled the paper from her bra, held it against
the screen, and then sat back with a grin.

“What do I type?” Marnie asked from beside
her.

Dara spouted each command.

“Okay, I have numbers.”

Although she already knew that Marnie’s
numbers matched hers, she decided to let Marnie in on the
excitement.

“Read them to me.”

Her friend recited the numbers. Numbers that
matched the ones on her screen. The same numbers that identified
this network as the one used to send Romantically Devoted’s email
messages.

“We found the network, Marnie!”

“We did? Why do my numbers match yours?”

“Because the address belongs to the router.
All of these computers are connected to the same router.”

“This is good.” Marnie tapped her chin with
her index finger. “But we still don’t know his identity.”

“No, we don’t,” Dara conceded, “but at least
we have something to go on. Let’s get out of here.”

Both women logged off and then headed back to
Dara’s car. The drive to Marnie’s house was comfortably quiet, the
sound of spinning brain wheels evident between them.

“You are going to call Mace, right?” Marnie
opened the passenger door and stepped out.

“Yes. I’ll call him as soon as I’m home.”

“Promise?”

“Absolutely. I can’t keep this to
myself.”

Marnie closed the door and Dara gave her wave
as she backed out of the driveway. All the way home she attempted
to think of who she could attribute to the identity of the person
who sent the emails. Personally, she didn’t know of anyone within
her writing circle that would be capable of such a thing. Those
people only
wrote
murder; no one actually intended on
carrying out the task.

As she parked back in front of her house, she
felt an uneasiness slide over her body. Even with newly-keyed,
locked doors and a security system she didn’t feel safe anymore.
She took a deep breath and made a mad dash for the front door.
.

She only took time to throw the deadbolt and
punch in her code before she pulled her cell phone from her purse
and called Mace. Her heart thumped so rapidly she was afraid it
would explode right out of her chest.

“Turner.”

She took a second deep breath in an effort to
remain calm. If he heard her fear, he’d take control and she
couldn’t allow that. “Hey Detective, solved any crimes lately?”

“Harassment is against the law.”

“What?”

“If you’re calling me, I’m sure it’s to
harass me.”

She ran a shaking hand across her forehead
and sighed, her willpower broken. “If you say so.”

“Dara?”

“Sorry to bother you. I’ll call Jackson or
Jake.”

“Tell me why you called.”

“No.”

“Dara,” he growled.

“Or, Bri and I can discuss it and figure out
something …”

“Where are you?”

“Home. Why?”

“Put on some coffee. I’m on my way over.”

“Say please and I’ll consider it.”

“Just do it!”

When the dial tone sounded in her ear, she
realized that she may have just pushed too far. Maybe coffee wasn’t
such a bad idea – especially since Detective Turner obviously
needed a pick-me-up.

Her nerves tingled beneath her skin as she
headed to the kitchen to start the coffee. Perhaps she’d pushed the
panic button when she read the email. After all, sometimes email
and texting were hard to analyze. All sorts of maybes crowded her
brain and by the time the coffee pot began to perk, she really
didn’t know what to think. She would just have to let Mace in on
the discovery and be prepared for his wrath.

And when his forceful knock sounded on the
front door, she realized there was absolutely no time for
preparation.

“Dara, let me in.”

She threw open the deadbolt and opened the
door. The alarm screamed.

That
did not make Detective Turner
happy.

“Did you enter the code?” he bellowed over
the racket.

“What do you think?”

She braced herself against the sofa on one
hip and pretended to ignore the noise. He simply gave her a cursory
stare and turned to punch numbers on the keypad. As soon as he
entered the last digit, she took advantage of the silence.

“You told me to lock the door and set the
alarm,” she reminded him.

“I also told you to enter the code before you
opened the door.”

“And I would have had you not attempted to
knock my door down and scare my neighbors in the process.”

He released a deep sigh. “Is the coffee
ready?”

“I hope so. I’m thinking you need a cup.” She
gestured at the kitchen with one hand. “C’mon, I’ll fix it for
you.”

“No, thank you.” He stepped around her and
closed the distance to the coffee pot. “I’ll do it myself.”

“Are you insinuating I can’t make a cup of
coffee?”

“Not at all. I’m implying I don’t want you to
slip something in it.”

“Like what?”

“With you, there’s no telling what you have
up your sleeve.” He grabbed a mug from a hook on the wall. “Can I
make you a cup?”

“No, thank you.” She waited until the hot
liquid was in his cup before she picked up where she left off. “And
what makes you think I would drug you?”

“Just a feeling.” He moved to take the bar
stool next to hers. “Why did you call?”

“I’ll tell you but first, we make a
deal.”

“No deal.”

“I want to help.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?”

“This isn’t one of your novels, Dara. This is
a true to life murder with a real weapon that quite possibly won’t
have a happy ending.”

“I realize that but I can’t sit idly by and
hope to God someone won’t decide to give me another gift. I can
help.”

“My position remains the same. It’s the job
of the Primrose Police Department to catch this maniac and we’re
really good at what we do.”

She folded her arms across her chest and
glared at him. He had no idea just how stubborn she could be.
“Fine. We’ll play your way. I have information and if you don’t let
me help, I won’t share it with you.”

“You’re withholding information.”

“Maybe, but at least if we’re teammates you
can keep your eye on me.”

She felt the ice thaw around him as he made
another attempt to dissuade her. “What’s in it for me?”

“The satisfaction of solving your case.”

“What else?”

“You want a bribe, Detective?”

He dropped his arms and moved closer to her.
“That’s illegal. How do I know you have information I need?”

Oh, I have exactly what you need
. She
swallowed hard and although it sounded ludicrous, she hoped there
was absolutely no way he could read her mind.

“I know you don’t think I have any real
skill, but I have researched police procedure quite
extensively.”

“Researched?”

“Extensively.”

The tense silence that followed almost caused
her to question her sanity. Who in her right mind challenged a
hungry lion, anyway?

“Tell me what you’ve got then I’ll weigh the
options.”