Chapter 29 MERCY

Chapter 29

MERCY

Day 6

Mercy poured her third cup of coffee from the sheriff's department pot. After the disaster of a town hall last night and the fact that her back looked like a gigantic purple flower, she'd barely slept. This morning she'd asked Bree for help taping her ribs. Mercy had thought she could get away with ignoring them, but breathing and any torso movement still hurt.

The tape helped a little. A very little.

In shock, Bree had stared at her back. "Christ, Mercy. It looks like you got kicked by a horse with giant hooves."

"Or shot," Mercy had added, sarcasm in her tone.

Now she and Bree were digging into more tips and checking Ken Wells's background. The reporter had no record. He'd been working in the area for six years but was originally from Ohio. She was still annoyed that he had fired up the audience with his mention of four tattoos. And she wanted to know where he'd gotten his information.

Is there a leak in Bree's department?

Mercy's phone chimed with a text from Detective Bolton.

Can we FaceTime?

Mercy sat down at her laptop and called him with the app. "Evan wants to talk," she told Bree. The sheriff immediately rolled her chair next to Mercy's.

Evan appeared, and she recognized his office in the background. His eyes were grim.

"What happened?" Mercy asked.

Instead of answering, he narrowed his gaze on her. "You look like hell."

"Thanks."

He looked at Bree. "She taking care of herself?"

"No."

"What happened?" Mercy repeated, in no mood for either of their opinions. "Was Paige's identity leaked?"

"No," said Evan. "But it's been hard keeping a lid on it. I've been reminding her friends daily that they can't talk to anyone about it. Her mom has received some inquiries about where she is, but told people that Paige is visiting cousins out of state. I've also posted several memos in the sheriff's department, referring vaguely to an extremely sensitive case where someone's life relies on silence from the people who worked on it. So far, it's been successful. But every morning, I'm surprised that it hasn't made the press."

"You and me both," said Mercy.

"I'm going to tell you what I found before I talk to the Holcrofts," Evan said. "I'll take it to them next. CuffMe.com finally allowed us access to Paige's account." He winced. "It's what we expected. She was talking with a few men and the conversations aren't pleasant reading. Basically the way the connections feature works is you post a profile and list topics you're interested in."

"Are there pictures in the profiles?" asked Bree.

"Yes. As you can imagine, a lot of people hide their face or are heavily disguised. Some people don't care and post a clear face shot. Paige wears a mask in her profile. She only posted one photo." He moved his phone so the women could see his computer screen.

The gold mask covered the upper half of Paige's face, but her heavily lined eyes were visible through the eyeholes. Her long hair was elaborately curled and in two high ponytails. Black lipstick covered her lips, and she held a finger in front of them as if telling someone to be quiet.

She does not look seventeen.

Mercy read the adjacent bio. Paige called herself Diana989 and said she was nineteen. Her height and weight were listed, making it obvious that she was small. Her interests included bondage and discipline, breath play, dollification, age play, impact play, voyeurism, blood play, and humiliation. She was seeking a male dom and was willing to travel.

"What is impact play?" asked Bree.

"Anything that involves striking the body," said Evan. "Can be a hand or whip or paddle. Age play is taking on different-aged roles, and we've all heard of breath play. Erotic asphyxiation. It's considered one of the more dangerous activities, along with blood play."

Mercy didn't want to hear an explanation of blood play. "Dollification?"

"My understanding is that it means the person has a desire to be owned. The dom will be able to dress her as he pleases—like a doll. Heels. Makeup. Dresses. And she will be subservient."

Mercy thought of the dress Paige's brother had described. And the pink nails. "You can't show her parents this profile," she said. "Maybe just tell them about it."

"I haven't even gotten to the messages," said Evan. "It gets much worse."

"She's seventeen," muttered Bree. "How does this happen?"

"BDSM information is everywhere," said Mercy. "Teens are curious. Something about it must have struck a chord with her." She eyed the picture of Paige. "Consenting adults can do whatever they want. We're not here to kink shame, and I can see how this site is a resource for certain communities. But damn, clearly it can become a hunting ground for predators."

"There are safety warnings all over the site," said Evan. "To open an account you have to agree not to hold CuffMe or its parent company liable for any injuries, libel, and another dozen issues. It also requires you to agree that you're over the age of eighteen.

"Paige's account was deleted a whole month before she disappeared. Obviously she thought she was covering her tracks, but we've been given access to her entire activity history." He changed his screen to a list of accounts that Paige had messaged. "She talked to sixteen people," Evan continued. "She blocked and deleted fifteen of them, but one she simply deleted their message history."

"That's got to be our guy," said Mercy.

"I agree. In my subpoena, I requested account information for everyone she talked to. The company didn't want to comply with that and dragged their feet, citing their clients' privacy." He raised a brow. "I—and the judge—made it clear that we consider the company responsible for allowing a seventeen-year-old on their site who has vanished. They reluctantly relented to our demands, and sometime this morning I expect to receive the men's account info."

Mercy scanned the list of usernames who had chatted with Paige.

Kinkplay492

NumberOneNiceGuy!!

SonOfJor-el

TheMaster232

CommanderSpanky27

BabyBoi457

KhalDrago3058

"We need to investigate all the men she talked to," said Bree. "Even if she did block them."

"I'm one hundred percent certain the man we want is the one she didn't block," said Evan.

His confidence surprised Mercy. "Why do you say that?"

"I'll show you in a minute. But first take a look at some of her conversation with him." He clicked on TheMaster232. "It's long. They talked for days."

Mercy started to quickly scan. "He's very polite," she said, slightly surprised. "It reads like a get-to-know-you at a dinner party."

"Exactly," said Evan. "He's courteous and attentive. Letting her guide the conversation. The other men who messaged her jumped right into abrupt questions, sex talk, and requests for naked photos. Most of them she blocked the first day she spoke with them. This guy's style is to approach very carefully."

Mercy continued to read. "You're right. His questions are all softballs. She's the one who asks him what he is looking for ... and he states it very civilly."

I'm a kind and giving person. I have a lot of respect for the people who are interested in the life we enjoy. I appreciate you taking the time to ask about my needs.

"He's a ‘kind person.' Bullshit," said Bree. "He knew exactly how to rope her in."

Mercy continued to read. As the days passed, their banter grew more friendly and personal. He told her his name was Mark, and Mercy shook her head as Paige gave her real name. They discussed TV shows, movies, and favorite foods. Mercy could tell Paige was growing more and more interested in Mark as a person. She started to bare her soul.

I'm looking for a new start. I feel stagnant here. Your life sounds really wonderful.

Even though you're across the United States, you feel close. I wish we could meet.

"No, Paige. Don't even think about it," said Mercy. She wanted to grab the girl and shake some sense into her.

"I think it's too late to tell her what to do," said Bree. "Or what not to do."

Then the pictures started. Without being asked Paige sent him a selfie. No mask but with heavy makeup. A few seconds later Mercy exclaimed as a selfie of Mark showed up in the chat.

"I already checked out the photo," said Evan. "A reverse image search pulls that up as a stock image. ‘Man taking selfie.' But I think the photos he sends later are actually him. I didn't find them online."

Mercy rapidly scrolled and then yanked her gaze away. "Jesus, Evan. You could have warned us."

Mark had moved to nudes. None showed his face, but Mercy agreed with Evan that they were probably Mark, suspecting the man couldn't resist showing Paige his real junk.

Bree made a gagging noise. "I've never understood why men think women want to see this."

"Paige makes it sound like she does," said Mercy. "She's full of praise." She exhaled as Paige started sending her own nude photos. Some extremely graphic.

"This whole thing reads as if it should be on a Dateline special," said Mercy. "His manipulation is subtle. I have no doubts he's done it before."

"Definitely," said Bree. "To Vanessa and Tisha. And maybe others."

In the chat Mark suggested they switch to texting. Paige agreed, and he sent his phone number.

It was the number from the burner phone that had led Mercy to New York.

That was the final message.

TheMaster232's account was listed as having been deactivated on the same date as Paige's account.

Mercy sat back in her chair. "You're right, Evan. There's no doubt that this is him. Damn! We need his account information ASAP. I'm sure it's a bunch of bull, but there's got to be something in there we can use. Did you notice all the time stamps are late at night? If that's Pacific time since this is Paige's account, and our guy is in New York, he was communicating with her at two or three in the morning."

"Has a day job?" speculated Bree. "Or a spouse? Waits until she's asleep?"

Evan had turned his phone's camera back to himself. "I hate to take this to the Holcrofts without the man's account information first. I know they'll immediately want that info. If we had a lead from his account, maybe it would distract them a bit from the pictures."

Mercy didn't envy Evan. It would be painful presenting this to Paige's parents.

Paige sent him at least a dozen naked photos.

"One thing we haven't looked into is the local BDSM scene here," said Bree. "I doubt it goes on just behind closed doors. There's got to be a group or organization around here ... most likely in Albany. Scarlet Falls might be too small." She frowned as she thought. "I'm not sure where to start, though. I guess search on the internet. That's what someone looking for like-minded people would do."

"Hang on," said Evan. His screen blurred as he opened something on his phone. "This is it! They emailed the account information for Mark."

Bree held up crossed fingers, and Mercy joined her.

"Oh, nice," said Evan. "They included an IP address. That won't tell us exactly where he is, but we can get a general area—I'll look it up in a second. The account lists his name as Mark Verney. The phone number is the one we have from the burner phone, but there's a physical address in Scarlet Falls, New York. Hopefully that's not a fake."

Our killer is close.

Evan rattled off the address, and Mercy popped it into her laptop. "Registered owner of the home at the address is Sylvia Verney. She's seventy-nine," she said.

"The IP is from the Scarlet Falls area," said Evan. "It's a big location but it does include the home address."

"Mark Verney is listed under names associated with that address," said Mercy. "Sylvia might be his mother."

"I've got an expired driver's license under Mark Verney," said Bree, looking at her computer. "Age is forty-five. Same address."

"We gotta go, Evan," said Mercy, closing her laptop.

"I can look at who else Mark Verney communicated with," said Evan. "Maybe one of your victims is on here."

Mercy stood and looked at Bree. "Ready?"

"I'm more than ready."