The Dying Breath: A Forensic Mystery

it’s fun playing together again?
    Justin’s words were like bullets. “What is collateral damage ? Ask him why he killed Safer and Stein.”
    The message had barely been sent when Kyle’s words chimed back.
    Their deaths were pure, random chance. I broke into Leather Ed’s and toyed with his drugs. It was like a lottery ticket, you know? I mixed in only a few bad bags with the good. Then I watched to see what would happen. It was wild that one of the men who ended up with my concoction was a BIG celebrity. There is a truth in that: the rich die just like the poor. Leather Ed snorted his last line in his room, sitting in his chair, while I waited in his basement. He didn’t know what hit him.
    Another ping sounded just as they finished reading.
    Is Justin with you?
    Cameryn whipped around to look at Justin, who in turn shook his head hard. “Tell him no.” His voice cracked like breaking ice.
    No.
    And then the one word typed back:
    Liar.
    At that point she heard a commotion at her front door, then her mammaw leading Andrew the FBI agent and Sheriff Jacobs up the stairs, their boots matching the pounding of her heart. Justin quickly filled them in on what was happening, finishing up by saying, “I don’t know what to do now. It may be a bluff or O’Neil might be watching.” The panic was rising in his voice. “My goal was to keep him communicating but I can’t see my way to the next move.”
    It was Andrew who took control. In a calm voice, he said, “Deputy, you did a fine job. We’ve got our people tracking him but it’s going to be next to impossible now that he’s using the chat room.”
    “What’s the answer, then?” asked Jacobs. Cameryn could hear their voices behind her, but she didn’t turn around. As she watched their shadow images flicker across the screen, her mind pulsed against the one word. Liar. Did Kyle know she was surrounded by people, or was he somewhere far away, playing games?
    “We need to get him to use a phone,” Andrew said. “We’ve checked the inventory of Leather Ed’s belongings and his cell phone is missing. Our guess is that O’Neil’s got it. Try to have him call you on that phone, Cameryn. We can track it if you do.”
    Now she did turn around. “How am I going to get him to do that?”
    Andrew was dressed down today, in khakis and a tan shirt. His hair looked silver in the light, his jaw more square. “I want you to type exactly what I’m going to tell you to say. Are you ready to catch him?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re a brave girl. Now, the first thing I want you to do is to type to him that you really care about him.”
    Cameryn gasped, balking at the idea. “No!”
    “You’ve got to get him to trust you,” Andrew said. He was leaning close to her shoulder, and she could smell the faintest whiff of aftershave. “Write down a memory you two shared, then tell him you are worried about what will happen to him. We’ll do this one piece at a time.”
    “Justin?” She looked to him for confirmation, but he nodded in agreement.
    “Do it,” he said. “If we catch him it’ll be over.”
    She searched her memory, trying to find a strand she could pull from her memories with Kyle, thoughts she’d tried so hard to forget.
    Do you remember when we were in the church and I told you about my mother? I told you all about Hannah. I told you how she left me when I was little, and you sat and listened to me.
    “Good, good,” Andrew crooned. “Keep going.”
    I think you understood how hard that was. I know your mom left you, too. Kyle, you have to be careful. You could get killed.
    She swallowed hard before adding a line that was a lie that was not venial, but mortal. A black mark on her soul. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.
    Patting her shoulder, Andrew said, “Perfect. You need to connect with him in a way that makes him feel safe. We’ve got to get his guard down. Send it.”
    She did.
    That’s just the thing, Cammie. I don’t care anymore. I’ve played the game and I’ve won. There’s nothing left for me now.
    Andrew looked excited. With darting movements he assessed the room, then made a steeple with his hands, crossing his thumbs, and tapped his fingers against his pursed lips. “He’s showing vulnerability. That’s exactly what we want. Keep him typing. We have to go slow and draw him out carefully. This is all about strategy.”
    Andrew droned on in her ear as Cameryn, compliant, typed the words. She wrote that what Kyle