She blinked at the screen. “Who are you chatting with?”
“Oh, that.” He turned to look, and grimaced in dismay. guess ur busy, bye 4 now, Jared had written.
“Oh, shit,” he moaned. “I lost him. Damn!”
“Lost who?” Cindy’s wet eyes brightened with curiosity.
“It’s a work thing. For Connor. I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Aw, shut up.” Cindy peered at the monitor. “The gain and asymmetry of a parallel compressive gammachirp filter is comparable to…jeez, Miles, what does Con have to do with this techno stuff?”
“Nothing. There’s this predator who’s killing science geeks,” he admitted. “I’m creating characters with profiles similar to his victims. Then I put them out there in cyberspace, and hope he’ll hit on me.”
“Brr.” She squinted as she read the screen. “WitchywomanBware? You mean, you’re a girl? Oh, Miles. That’s, like, kinky.”
His face got hot. “It’s just the way I work. This guy Jared really likes Mina. I was hoping he’d make a move, but he’s wandered off.”
“Sorry.” Cindy shot him a sidewise glance, and read. “Chatter personal profile: Mina. Where’d you come up with that?”
“Dracula. We’re hunting a vampire. Not the sexy TV kind. The kind who sucks out your blood and kicks your corpse out of its way.”
Cindy shuddered. “Creepy. That is so negative.”
“Dealing with serial murderers will do that to you,” Miles said loftily. “Get out of my dungeon, if I’m too creepy for you.”
Cindy leaned closer to read the box headed Physical Description. “Height, five feet, four inches,” she murmured. “110—115 pounds. Eyes, dark brown. Hair, long, dark. Bra cup size?” Miles had duly filled in B-cup. Under Distinguishing Characteristics, he’d typed, pierced navel.”
“Hmm,” she murmured. “So, um…basically, you told this guy that you were me.”
Miles’s rolling chair shot back and hit the table behind him with a crash. Cindy jumped back, eyes big. “That’s the thing about you that bugs the shit out of me, Cin,” he snarled. “You think it’s all about you. It’s not, OK? So take your perky tattooed ass and get it out of my face.”
Cindy squeaked, and fled.
Miles dropped his head onto the keyboard and swore, the most vicious, horrible epithets he could come up with.
It didn’t help worth dick.
“Change your name? Run away? You’re out of your mind! You’re giving in already? Where is your backbone? Where is your pride?”
Her mother’s ringing tone made Liv’s head throb. Reasoning with Amelia Endicott was difficult under the best of circumstances, and these were far from the best. “Pride isn’t the issue,” she said. “I just—”
“An Endicott does not hide and cower and skulk! You should be proud! Grateful for the sacrifices your family has made so that you could have all these privileges! Go look at the statue of Augustus Endicott in front of the library, and reflect upon all that he did for you!”
Yeah, giving T-Rex a perfect opportunity to blow her head off with a sniper rifle, at his leisure. Liv squeezed her reddened eyes shut to block out her mother’s outraged countenance. Right now, cowering and skulking sounded very good to her. Very calm and restful.
“Sure I’m proud of being an Endicott, Mother,” she said wearily. “But this guy is trying to kill me. I don’t want to be dead. That’s all.”
“Stop being overdramatic,” Amelia Endicott snapped. “Are you insinuating that I don’t care about your safety? I’ve tried your whole life to help you make all the right choices, and have you ever listened?”
Liv forced herself to exhale, and slowly inhaled again. “This is not my fault.” The words fell one at a time from her lips, like little rocks.
“Saying ‘it’s not my fault’ will get you nowhere. Just look at yourself!” Her mother gestured at the mirror on the dining room wall.
Liv looked, and wished she hadn’t. She was wild-haired, holloweyed, white-lipped, grimy. A chimney sweep from a Dickens novel, but for her out-of-control bosom. Just one more of the many things that offended Amelia Endicott. She’d tried for years to convince her daughter to get those indecorously bouncy boobs surgically reduced. Ouch. Not.
Her father gave her an uneasy look. “Honey, maybe you should ease off,” he murmured, in a wheedling tone. “It’s been quite a day.”
“All I want is what’s best for her.” Amelia’s voice quivered on the edge of tears. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“I know that.” Liv fought off the weariness that rolled over her like a tank whenever she argued with her mother. “The policewoman told me that changing my name and starting over is an option to consider when you’re dealing with a dangerous—”
“Not an option,” Amelia said crisply. “Not for you. Other familes prominent in politics or business make high security part of their lifestyle. They simply adjust their attitude and expectations!”
Liv sighed. “But I—”
“Your father and I are willing to invest in round-the-clock protection so that you can live your normal life as an Endicott!”
Liv tried again. “But I don’t—”
“I don’t want to hear that negative attitude,” her mother warned. “You’ll have to give up this whim of running a bookstore, of course. Far too much exposure. The same goes with library work. I can’t fathom why you ever wanted to do anything so dusty and fusty in the first place, but never mind. Let it go, and move on, honey!”
“But I’m not fit for anything else,” Liv protested. “All my training and education is in literature and library science.”
“You can do what I’ve been trying to persuade you to do since you were in college,” her mother announced triumphantly. “You can go into the advertising department of ECE! Any location you like, darling. Seattle, Olympia, San Francisco, Portland, Spokane. Location is virtual these days. You could work from home, with this new video conferencing technology. You’re so creative and imaginative, Livvy. You were wasted as a librarian, or a shopkeeper, for God’s sake. In fact, this whole thing might just end up being a blessing in disguise.”
Hah. Liv gritted her teeth. “I wouldn’t be any good at—”
“Nonsense. You’d be brilliant. And the best thing about it is that anywhere you worked, you’d be guarded by ECE corporate security! Imagine what a load off our minds, honey! Knowing that every day, you’re as safe as if you’re locked in a bank vault!”
Liv winced. “I’d go bonkers if I worked for ECE.”
“Stop doubting yourself, Livvy! We’ve always believed in you!”
Believed in who? Whoever this person was that Amelia Endicott so ardently believed in was light years away from the daughter she actually had. But there was no point in trying to make her understand.
“We’ll find a high security condo, wherever you decide to settle,” her mother went on. “You’ll have to give up all that hiking and running, but you can work out indoors. There’s always grocery delivery…”
Her mother’s babble faded into a faraway hum in Liv’s ears, as if she were alone beneath a glass bell. She thought of her mother’s collection of antique dolls in the parlor of her Seattle town house. Each stood alone, stiffly poised, a perfect ceramic smile on each painted face.