He smiled. Give the people what they want, and they will flock to your door. You’re welcome, people.
A hand tapped him on the shoulder. “So are you pro-Hazmat or anti-Hazmat?” asked a female voice behind him.
Gideon froze. The park was lousy with reporters shoving cameras and microphones in front of the gawkers, hoping to catch sound bites for the next newsbreak. Returning to the scene was crazy enough, but doing an on-camera interview would be insane.
He turned around slowly. Definitely not a reporter. Reporters don’t usually wear black sports bras on the job.
“I’m sorry,” Gideon said. “Were you talking to me?”
“Only if you feel like talking,” she said. “I’m Andie.”
She was at least five years older than him, brown eyes, brown hair scrunched up and tucked through the back of an FDNY baseball cap. She was just shy of being pretty, but she knew her best asset, which was why she had nothing on over the sports bra this late in October.
He pointed at her hat. “You a firefighter, Andie?”
“It belonged to my ex,” she said, rolling her eyes to let him know she was glad the creep was out of her life. “Me? I’m much better at starting fires than putting them out.”
Gideon was six two, with thick dark hair, full lips, and a hint of a bad-boy smile. He was used to getting hit on. And Andie was a pro. She positioned herself in front of him so he couldn’t talk to her without looking down at her world-class rack.
Damn it, honey, your timing sucks. As much as I would love to take your hot, sweaty body home and drill you senseless, this morning the only aphrodisiac I need is this crowd.
“Can you repeat the question?” Gideon asked.
“I asked how you felt about the Hazmat Killer. From the way you were smiling, I figured you for a big fan.”
I was smiling? Dumb. Thanks for the heads-up, Andie.
“You think this guy has fans?” Gideon said.
“Thousands, and I’m at the top of the list. You might think a nice Jewish girl from Queens would be a bleeding heart liberal, but you’d be wrong.”
“Doesn’t it bother you that he’s a vigilante?” Gideon said.
“No. What this city needs is a couple of hundred more just like him.”
“Wow,” Gideon said. “What happened to the nice Jewish girl?”
“Date raped in college. Rich kid. Daddy bought off the cops, the judge, and the school. That’s when I changed my politics. Y’know, sometimes a staunch conservative is just another schmuck liberal who’s been mugged.”
She held up her cell phone. “Did you see the video—the one Hazmat posted?”
“Not yet,” Gideon said.
“Get on it, man. It’s got like fifty thousand hits already.”
Eighty-nine thousand last time I looked.
“The victim’s name is Eleanor something,” Andie said. “She killed her girlfriend in cold blood, but she got away with it because she’s rich and her family knew how to play the system. But Hazmat gave her exactly what she deserved. I only wish I could shake his hand.”
Gideon was breathing hard. Shake his hand? Hell—this girl wouldn’t be satisfied with a handshake. Any other time, Andie. Any other place…
“It’s nice talking to you,” Gideon said, “but I have to run.”
Andie wet her lips and lowered them into a pout. “Too bad you’re not running my way,” she said. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“Brian,” Gideon said.
She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Brian.”
He took her hand and shook it.
There you go, Andie. You got your wish.
Chapter 9
Cates’s cell rang. She checked the caller ID. “Matt Smith,” she said to us, and took the call.
“This is Captain Cates. What did you come up with, Matt?”
She listened for twenty seconds, her expression never changing. She thanked Matt and hung up.
“It was our IT officer—our computer guy,” she said, simplifying it for the mayor. “He tried to trace the source of the video, but it was uploaded using VPN—that’s a virtual private network, sir. It masks the location of the originating IP address.”
The mayor threw up his hands. “Of course it’s masked. But we’ve got millions of dollars’ worth of equipment and all these computer geniuses running around. Are you telling me none of our people can unmask it?”
“Sir,” Cates said, “all of the uploaded data is encrypted. Whoever posted these videos creates a different user name and a different throwaway email address every time. So yes, we have a lot of equipment and a lot of smart people, but the killer knows how to hide his tracks. Hacking and tracing isn’t an option.”