grider6_2000
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CHAPTER 1
Chloe continued to peck away at the keyboard, occasionally making notes as she researched the strange incidents that had taken place over the last two weeks. Several successful and prominent businesswomen had mysteriously turned up dead in the Smallville area; their accounts and all financial holdings cleaned out. But most interesting was that the autopsies yielded abnormally high levels of endorphins in the victim’s system, which suggested an intense pleasure before death.
“Any luck, Chloe?” Lana asked as she entered the school newspaper office.
“None. There’s no real hard evidence and I can’t find any signs of hacking into their financial accounts before their death, which means that they somehow did the transactions willingly. Or maybe they were forced to, but why not hold the women for ransom and get more money?”
“Maybe the whole hostage scenario was too dangerous,” answered Lana as she looked over her friend’s shoulder at the computer monitor.
“Maybe. So far the only clue the police have found is a smudge of lipstick on the collar of one of the women: Loreal Cherry Apple Red .”
“Big deal. I get lipstick on my clothes all the time.”
“Yeah, but it was a color that doesn’t match any in the victim’s house. And it was also near the back of her neck.”
“Hmmm,” Lana remarked, “sounds like a case for the police, not a school newspaper editor.”
Chloe ignored the suggestion to mind her own business. “I’m going to the scenes of the crimes to take a few pictures. The police probably won’t let me through the line, but maybe the scene will spark something.”
“Be careful Chloe. The killer is still on the loose.”
After school the following day Chloe was hard at work in her office, still trying to piece something together. Seeing the offices didn’t yield anything interesting, and her contacts in the police department told her that nothing new had surfaced. Just as she was about to give up she decided to hack into one of the bank’s databases and check the keystrokes that the victim typed in. After checking several different accounts she found one where the victim typed in Dominatrix as the password, which was wrong. Chloe couldn’t discover the real password, but the Rejection Message entry was clear: it was an obscure message to anyone who dug deep enough. Why hadn’t the police or bank caught that clue?
“I better call the police on this one.” Chloe thought out loud.
“Call the police on what? purred a sultry female voice behind her. Chloe instinctively closed out the database query on the computer and spun around, startled. It was almost eight o’clock and the school should be empty. She didn’t even hear the person come in. What she saw she didn’t expect: a tall and beautiful woman with jet black flowing hair and piercing blue eyes. She was wearing a tight-fitting black jumpsuit with knee-high boots.
“Who are you?” asked the startled blonde. She started to inch her way to the phone on the desk.
The woman didn’t answer. Instead she drew a small gun from her belt and aimed it at Chloe. “Please stay away from the phone, little girl.”
Chloe hesitated, and the woman pulled the trigger. A whoosh of air exploded from the end of the barrel and Chloe felt a stinging pain in her right arm. When she looked down she saw a small dart protruding out of her skin; then everything in the room started to spin. The last thing she remembered was the woman walking casually toward her as everything went black.
Chloe continued to peck away at the keyboard, occasionally making notes as she researched the strange incidents that had taken place over the last two weeks. Several successful and prominent businesswomen had mysteriously turned up dead in the Smallville area; their accounts and all financial holdings cleaned out. But most interesting was that the autopsies yielded abnormally high levels of endorphins in the victim’s system, which suggested an intense pleasure before death.
“Any luck, Chloe?” Lana asked as she entered the school newspaper office.
“None. There’s no real hard evidence and I can’t find any signs of hacking into their financial accounts before their death, which means that they somehow did the transactions willingly. Or maybe they were forced to, but why not hold the women for ransom and get more money?”
“Maybe the whole hostage scenario was too dangerous,” answered Lana as she looked over her friend’s shoulder at the computer monitor.
“Maybe. So far the only clue the police have found is a smudge of lipstick on the collar of one of the women: Loreal Cherry Apple Red .”
“Big deal. I get lipstick on my clothes all the time.”
“Yeah, but it was a color that doesn’t match any in the victim’s house. And it was also near the back of her neck.”
“Hmmm,” Lana remarked, “sounds like a case for the police, not a school newspaper editor.”
Chloe ignored the suggestion to mind her own business. “I’m going to the scenes of the crimes to take a few pictures. The police probably won’t let me through the line, but maybe the scene will spark something.”
“Be careful Chloe. The killer is still on the loose.”
After school the following day Chloe was hard at work in her office, still trying to piece something together. Seeing the offices didn’t yield anything interesting, and her contacts in the police department told her that nothing new had surfaced. Just as she was about to give up she decided to hack into one of the bank’s databases and check the keystrokes that the victim typed in. After checking several different accounts she found one where the victim typed in Dominatrix as the password, which was wrong. Chloe couldn’t discover the real password, but the Rejection Message entry was clear: it was an obscure message to anyone who dug deep enough. Why hadn’t the police or bank caught that clue?
“I better call the police on this one.” Chloe thought out loud.
“Call the police on what? purred a sultry female voice behind her. Chloe instinctively closed out the database query on the computer and spun around, startled. It was almost eight o’clock and the school should be empty. She didn’t even hear the person come in. What she saw she didn’t expect: a tall and beautiful woman with jet black flowing hair and piercing blue eyes. She was wearing a tight-fitting black jumpsuit with knee-high boots.
“Who are you?” asked the startled blonde. She started to inch her way to the phone on the desk.
The woman didn’t answer. Instead she drew a small gun from her belt and aimed it at Chloe. “Please stay away from the phone, little girl.”
Chloe hesitated, and the woman pulled the trigger. A whoosh of air exploded from the end of the barrel and Chloe felt a stinging pain in her right arm. When she looked down she saw a small dart protruding out of her skin; then everything in the room started to spin. The last thing she remembered was the woman walking casually toward her as everything went black.
