Read Online Out of the Blue: A Pengram Mystery by Scarlett Castrilli - Free Book Online
Authors: Scarlett Castrilli
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just been too shy and socially incompetent to chat.
That was heartbreaking to me. When I finally escaped into the adult world, I’d been a mile behind the starting gate compared to my peers. I was so used to moving from one place to another and taking care of my irresponsible mother that I hadn’t had much time for friends or dating. I wasn’t as shy as Chloe, but I had definitely been awkward in my efforts to make up the distance. She’d just needed some time to find her footing, but someone cut it short.
Or would this man have gone for any female? A female who looked like she was alone? He wouldn’t have gone after a woman with a guy right beside her, probably not even a woman dancing in a group of female friends.
Although he was a definite risk-taker, he hadn’t wanted to be remembered. I imagined a shadowy figure prowling through the dark corners of the club, a big cat eyeing a herd of wildebeest for the weaker, unprotected one he could catch. In that light, Chloe was the perfect prey. Small. Alone. Drinking.
He attended to the most minute of details. He had to have been in Bounce on some previous date to know where the staff room was. Had the manager or any employees caught people wandering around in the back in recent weeks? That was something to ask. We needed the security videos going as far back as they had them.
And he couldn’t be very old. Bounce skewed to people who were in their twenties, thirties at most. A much older man would have stood out among them, the antithesis of what this perp liked to do.
He worked. He owned a home. He could even have a girlfriend, or be married with kids, if that was something he had an interest in. He blended. He thought through every detail of this crime, whiled away his time in collecting props and scouting locations for his maze and his prey. My brain chewed on that for some time, debating what kind of job and family situation would allow him such copious amounts of free time. Perhaps there were no children in his house. He could be divorced, and his ex-wife raising them. Or there was no family, and his job wasn’t a professional one that would be time-consuming.
I wished we had similar crimes in the database to compare this one against. But the man who had stranded women in the wilderness for the sick joy of hunting them down died years ago in prison. There was also a chasm of differences between that crime and this one.
The man who had killed Chloe Rogers might never have encountered the law, although I was sure he had broken it in some capacity in the past. But he wasn’t prone to rash acts. He flew under the radar. His coworkers and neighbors might know that he had some quirks, but they would describe him as a nice, quiet guy. He could play the game.
These were the perps that bothered me the most.
My phone vibrated with a text. Sure it was Halloran wanting to bother me with further details of that bizarre documentary, I was surprised to see the message was from Tyler. I am so sorry .
Sure you are, I thought, writing, Thanks, Tyler . Unable to help myself, I goaded him with a follow-up message. You should be sorry.
A minute later, another text came in. I sent that before I meant to. My name is Brendan Cavil and Tyler is my fourteen-year-old son. He and a friend were goofing around on dating sites and contacting local women. I just found this on his phone today.
That jackass who wanted me to reimburse him for condoms was only fourteen? I almost laughed. And you’re making his apologies for him?
No reply came. Then several messages arrived all at once.
I’m handling the first round and explaining the situation to you and the two other women he contacted. He’ll be making the second round either by text, phone, letter, or in person, depending on what you prefer. Again, I am so sorry for this. I had no idea. He’s grounded for a very long time. It was all fun and games in his head. I should drag him into the police station so someone can talk to him
That was heartbreaking to me. When I finally escaped into the adult world, I’d been a mile behind the starting gate compared to my peers. I was so used to moving from one place to another and taking care of my irresponsible mother that I hadn’t had much time for friends or dating. I wasn’t as shy as Chloe, but I had definitely been awkward in my efforts to make up the distance. She’d just needed some time to find her footing, but someone cut it short.
Or would this man have gone for any female? A female who looked like she was alone? He wouldn’t have gone after a woman with a guy right beside her, probably not even a woman dancing in a group of female friends.
Although he was a definite risk-taker, he hadn’t wanted to be remembered. I imagined a shadowy figure prowling through the dark corners of the club, a big cat eyeing a herd of wildebeest for the weaker, unprotected one he could catch. In that light, Chloe was the perfect prey. Small. Alone. Drinking.
He attended to the most minute of details. He had to have been in Bounce on some previous date to know where the staff room was. Had the manager or any employees caught people wandering around in the back in recent weeks? That was something to ask. We needed the security videos going as far back as they had them.
And he couldn’t be very old. Bounce skewed to people who were in their twenties, thirties at most. A much older man would have stood out among them, the antithesis of what this perp liked to do.
He worked. He owned a home. He could even have a girlfriend, or be married with kids, if that was something he had an interest in. He blended. He thought through every detail of this crime, whiled away his time in collecting props and scouting locations for his maze and his prey. My brain chewed on that for some time, debating what kind of job and family situation would allow him such copious amounts of free time. Perhaps there were no children in his house. He could be divorced, and his ex-wife raising them. Or there was no family, and his job wasn’t a professional one that would be time-consuming.
I wished we had similar crimes in the database to compare this one against. But the man who had stranded women in the wilderness for the sick joy of hunting them down died years ago in prison. There was also a chasm of differences between that crime and this one.
The man who had killed Chloe Rogers might never have encountered the law, although I was sure he had broken it in some capacity in the past. But he wasn’t prone to rash acts. He flew under the radar. His coworkers and neighbors might know that he had some quirks, but they would describe him as a nice, quiet guy. He could play the game.
These were the perps that bothered me the most.
My phone vibrated with a text. Sure it was Halloran wanting to bother me with further details of that bizarre documentary, I was surprised to see the message was from Tyler. I am so sorry .
Sure you are, I thought, writing, Thanks, Tyler . Unable to help myself, I goaded him with a follow-up message. You should be sorry.
A minute later, another text came in. I sent that before I meant to. My name is Brendan Cavil and Tyler is my fourteen-year-old son. He and a friend were goofing around on dating sites and contacting local women. I just found this on his phone today.
That jackass who wanted me to reimburse him for condoms was only fourteen? I almost laughed. And you’re making his apologies for him?
No reply came. Then several messages arrived all at once.
I’m handling the first round and explaining the situation to you and the two other women he contacted. He’ll be making the second round either by text, phone, letter, or in person, depending on what you prefer. Again, I am so sorry for this. I had no idea. He’s grounded for a very long time. It was all fun and games in his head. I should drag him into the police station so someone can talk to him
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