Free White Collared Part Two: Greed by Shelly Bell Page B

Benediction. But after thirty minutes, she hadn’t found any profile matching both Alyssa’s physical description and pain requirements.
    She checked her work e-mail and read over the messages forwarded by Eric Graham. Sure enough, they were signed with Jaxon’s name. None of the e-mails provided much information, but she printed them out to show to Jaxon and Nick. Maybe they’d pick up something she missed.
    With a few minutes of free time, she finished her coffee and clicked open her personal e-mail account. Her friend Caden had sent her a message asking for her date of graduation so he could make arrangements to come down for a visit. It instantly put a smile on her face.
    She wrote him back and told him not only did she expect him to come in for graduation, but she wanted him to consider moving down and staying with her permanently. She had no intention of ever going back home.
    Ten pointless e-mails later, she opened one from Facebook that indicated she had a message waiting for her. She clicked on the link to take her directly to the message.
    A moment later, her stomach cramped, and her breakfast threatened to reappear.
    It was a picture of a naked blond woman bound on the St. Andrew’s cross, red welts from a whip visible on her breasts and legs. Her head hung to the side, her long hair blocking the view of her face. Underneath the photo the message read, “Isn’t Katerina Martini beautiful? You can look, but you can’t touch. She belongs to me.”
    She covered her mouth and swallowed back the bile.
    Her pills. She needed her pills.
    Her hands shaking uncontrollably, she managed to dump a handful in her palm and, using her long nails, pinched two between her fingers and dropped them on her tongue.
    The girl’s hair and body were similar enough that anyone else might think it was Kate.
    Who sent this and why? To scare her off Jaxon’s case?
    The message was private. What purpose did it serve?
    Following her intuition, she checked her home page. There on her timeline was that same picture, but the message was different. “Hit me with your best shot.”
    There were more pictures. A deer lying on a field of tall yellow grass, its glassy eyes frozen in death. A familiar brand of rifle. Her graduation photo from her senior yearbook. And from an old newspaper, her father, dressed in his Sunday best, in front of the town hall.
    He’d gotten an award for saving the life of the mayor’s prized hunting dog, which had fallen through the ice of the lake. Later he’d told her he didn’t deserve an award for doing what was right. Even at that young age, she’d understood her father was special. That most people wouldn’t have risked their own life for a dog.
    Someone had hacked into her account, making it appear as if she had posted the pictures.
    Was the e-mail from her mystery caller?
    Whoever it was knew more than just her former name. While her juvenile file was sealed, the story had run in the newspaper. The media kept her name out of it, but it didn’t take a genius to infer who had made the fatal shot that day.
    “Whoa, is that you?” a male voice asked from behind her.
    Her heart leapt to her throat.
    She minimized the screen and twisted around in her chair.
    Logan stood over her, dressed in sweats. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He grabbed a chair from another desk, dragged it over, and plopped down. “What the hell were you looking at?”
    She tried playing it casual, forcing a smile and waving her hand. “Someone hacked my Facebook account. I’ll just delete it. No big deal. I’ve got only fifty Facebook friends anyway.”
    With a narrowed gaze and seriousness she’d never seen in him, he leaned forward. “That wasn’t the typical ‘click here to see who’s spreading rumors about you’ virus. Can I see it?”
    What did she know about this man? “Logan, really. I doubt . . .”
    “I promise you can trust me, Kate. My undergraduate was in computer science, and I’ve been