Free Serial Killer vs. E-Merica by Robert T. Jeschonek Page B

hands dirty."
    "I'll do what I have to." Antarctica rose, smoothing the glittering, ice-blue gown that she wore under her fur wrap. "Missouri was a great state."
    "Aren't they all?" said Nevada.
    *****
    Panama was no help. Neither was Jamaica or Wyoming or any of the other states who had been around Missouri before his death.
    After hours of questioning one e-rep witness after another, Nevada was no closer to solving the murder. According to the witnesses, Missouri hadn't said or done a thing out of the ordinary, and no one in his orbit had said or done anything suspicious.
    Frustrated, Nevada marched out of the House chamber through the big double doors and into the halls of the digital Capitol building. "I need some fresh air." Antarctica followed him.
    Except for Nevada and Antarctica, the halls were empty. The e-reps, whose sole reason for existing was to vote on legislation according to the will of the electorate, rarely ventured outside the House chamber. Neither did the e-senators.
    "What's next?" said Antarctica.
    Nevada shrugged. "Missouri's office, I guess. Root around for some kind of clue."
    "Like what?" said Antarctica. "What are we looking for?"
    "How should I know?" said Nevada. "I'm no detective."
    Antarctica frowned. "What did Sinaloa mean when he said you have experience losing e-reps on the job?"
    Nevada sighed. "Didn't anyone ever tell you about Idaho?"
    "I'm new around here," said Antarctica. "There's a lot I don't know."
    "Idaho disappeared five years ago," said Nevada. "I was sergeant-at-arms at the time, and I couldn't find her."
    "So they blame you for losing her?" said Antarctica.
    "Some of them." Nevada listened to his lizard-skin cowboy boots echoing down the corridor. "And some think I might have killed her."
    Antarctica gaped at him. "How could they think that ?"
    "Because we were lovers." Nevada stopped in front of an office door. The print on the frosted glass bore the name of Missouri. Nevada turned the knob.
    Antarctica walked in after him and closed the door. As Nevada rifled drawers and flipped through papers on Missouri's desk, Antarctica circled the perimeter, watching him with a guarded expression.
    "Nothing here." After ransacking the desk for a while, Nevada planted his hands on his hips and shook his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
    "What about that?" Antarctica pointed toward the door through which they'd entered. At the base of it, a single sheet of blank paper lay flat on the floor.
    "Someone must have slid it under the door while we were busy," said Nevada.
    Antarctica picked up the paper. "Why would somebody slip us a piece of paper with nothing on it?"
    "Depends." As soon as Nevada's fingers touched the page, black lettering appeared on it. "Depends who it's addressed to."
    Antarctica leaned in close enough that Nevada could smell her sweet gardenia perfume, and they read the note together.
    Statue of Liberty, 3PM, Come Alone.
    "It's an invitation," said Nevada. "Somebody wants to tell me something."
    "Or maybe this is from the killer," said Antarctica. "Maybe he wants you to 'come alone' so he can kill you."
    "There's only one way to find out." Nevada crumpled the paper into his tux jacket pocket and headed for the door.
    *****
    From the windows in the tiara of the Statue of Liberty, Nevada gazed out over the digital realm that was his home.
    He could see everything spread out before him--a world of American landmarks, brought together to provide picturesque backdrops for the e-reps' and e-sens' press conferences.
    In the middle of it all, Nevada saw the gleaming white dome of the Capitol building. Northwest of the Capitol jabbed the ivory needle of the Washington Monument; to the southwest rested the Lincoln Memorial. The Liberty Bell hung in a golden tower to the southeast, and Plymouth Rock perched on a pedestal to the northeast.
    Straight across the bubble of the digital realm from the Statue of Liberty, Mount Rushmore spanned the horizon, its giant presidential heads