Password: Death

By Robin Zeller and Cindy Ziperman

Meet Robert Ashton, a Southern gentleman who can get inside of a womans head, and has a taste for blood. He has been killing lonely women with impunity and sees no reason to stop.

One night, while using her new computer for the first time on the World Wide Web, Laura Howard, a Doctor of Psychology and a researcher in the paranormal powers of the mind, sees a woman get murdered while using the computer. She has nowhere to turn to and no one who will believe what she saw except her friend Sydney Chase. Together they decide to go to the police and find out that a woman had been murdered exactly as Laura had described.

She soon finds out that there is a serial murderer on the loose and no one can get a handle on him. The cases are too far apart and the women too different to get a good profile on this killer. Laura offers her help to solve this baffling case.

Laura and Sydney find themselves teamed up with Bill Rowland, a cop who has his own set of rules and a beautiful FBI agent, Amanda Hawks. Laura finds the team she is on is both less and more than is first expected.

The team is viewed as an embarrassment by the suits in charge of the case. Lauras ability to "see" the crime makes her value in helping solve the case suspect to those in charge. After all, there is nothing to her research in ESP that could lend credence to her visions. Bill is also pigeonholed on the team because he is not a team player. While Sydney is just a computer geek who can help the police get the real professionals on line and after this serial killer. Their team leader, Amanda Hawks, is too beautiful to be taken seriously by her superiors, old style cops who think this beautiful woman is more body than brains.

Pushed aside, and held to the outer edge of the investigation, the team soon learns how slippery their target is, even with Lauras ability to sense his presence. Bills own skepticism in Lauras abilities suffers a number of blows when Laura seems to know things without being told. Things about the case, and things Bill holds closely inside. He finds himself falling in love with this woman, so different from any he has ever known, and for the first time in his life thinks he might just have found the woman for him.

But Robert knows the team is after him. He decides they are getting too close to figuring out who he is and decides to go after them. Amanda is taken out of the picture and Laura falls under his control. Now its no longer just another case for Bill, its personal.

Death is coming and it wears many faces. Its down to Bill, Laura and Robert. One will live, one will die and one will never be the same. Its time to sign on line and find out. Today the password is death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 4, 2000
• ISBN: 9781462817115

Robin Zeller

Robin Zeller lives in Yakima, Washington with his wife Theresa. He is the father of two sons, and two daughters, and currently works as a salesman. He enjoys sailing, medieval history, collecting puppets and nut crackers, and of course writing. He is currently working on three new novels. Cindy Ziperman lives in Indianapolis, Indiana with her husband and two daughters. A graduate of Indiana University, she is a Registered Nurse and a Civil War historian as well as a writer. Presently she is working in the capacity of historian and coordinator of Reenactor Programs at the Colonel Eli Lilly Civil War Museum in Indianapolis. She is also currently at work on a new novel having to do with Civil War History. Shortened Versions for Author listing. Robin Zeller lives in Washington with his wife Theresa and children. He enjoys sailing, medieval history, collecting puppets, nut crackers, and writing Cindy Ziperman lives in Indiana with her husband and daughters. She is a graduate of Indiana University. Presently she works at the Colonel Eli Lilly Civil War Museum.

Book preview

Password:

Death

1664-ZELL-layout.pdf

CINDY ZIPERMAN

&

ROBIN ZELLER

Copyright © 2000 by Cindy Ziperman & Robin Zeller.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Dedication

This book is dedicated to Theresa and Don. You never gave up on us, always supported us, and believed in us. Thank you.

Chapter 1

Robert Taylor Ashton walked the hallway of his home, Ashton Oaks. His footsteps muffled by the antique runners on the highly polished but well worn floor. He passed the door to the parlor, still furnished as it had been when the Ashton men were off fighting for the Confederacy.

His image was captured by the massive framed mirror hanging on the wall. He was considered a very handsome man. His reflections in the mirrors certainly looked handsome, and all of the ladies who knew him would agree. They never seemed to notice, however, that his eyes were dead. If you looked deeply into them there was nothing, no soul.

His face emotionless, Robert entered his study, closed and locked the door behind him. Sitting down at the huge, antique mahogany desk he turned on his computer.

The monitor glowed blue in the dark room and on it a message flashed:

>Sign On

Robert’s large, powerful hand engulfed the mouse and moved the pointer to a flashing option shown on the screen. A finger with its nail buffed to a high natural shine, clicked the left mouse button. From inside the computer came the melodic sounds of a telephone number being dialed, two rings and a connection.

>Enter Password: *****

His malevolent smirk was reflected in the monitor. The well-manicured fingers typed, KNIFE. The harddrive clicked and chuckled as the computer executed a series of automatic commands. The screen went dark for a moment, then lit up with the words: WELCOME TO YOUR ONLINE CLUB

Two options appeared across the bottom of the screen: JOIN IN THE FUN, and, YOU HAVE MAIL WAITING. In the lower left hand corner of the mail waiting box the number twenty-one was flashing. He smiled, so many to chose from. His cold eyes scanned the list of letters responding to his charming invitation.

From the list, he selected the third letter from the top. It read: RE: Super Secret, Super Sexy Date. A double click of the left mouse button, and the letter opened. It read:

To: ShyGuy

From: Candi69

RE: Super Secret, Super Sexy Date

Dear ShyGuy,

Can’t wait to meet you. Your idea for a romantic getaway sounds too good to be true. Gosh, I can’t believe that I’m doing this, I mean we’ve never even met and here I am planning to spend the weekend with you!!!! Don’t worry, I’ve done exactly what you asked. I haven’t told a soul. Let me know what weekend you want to meet and I’ll be there, lover.

Signed, Candi69

Robert scanned the message, and a blankness came over his face. Like a photograph, his face appeared to be two dimensional. His mind turned inward and deep inside a power stirred to life. An energy reached out and took hold of the words on the screen. An image of a group of young girls appeared in his mind. They were laughing and tittering. All of them were reading his offer of a weekend in the Caribbean.

Damn her. Damn her to hell! That fucking slut. He snarled and with a stab at the button on his mouse, he closed the screen and purged the message from his computer.

Focusing his attention again on the list of letters, he selected the next one and read:

To: ShyGuy

From: MeriXmas

RE: Date Offer

Dear ShyGuy,

I don’t know why you are so afraid to ask a girl out. You sound WONDERFUL to me. My last boyfriend was a real jerk. All he wanted to do was drink beer and paw me. You don’t sound anything like that. I was glad to hear that you might be in town this month. I know you don’t want me to say anything to anyone about going out with you, and I don’t mind doing that. I figure what we do is our business, so don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. Let me know when you’ll be here, I’d be more than happy to take you to that restaurant I told you about. They serve the BEST sushi.

OXOXOX,

MeriXmas

Robert took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. His hands gripped the padded arms. Again the feeling stirred inside of him. He saw a young woman sitting before her terminal reading his offer of one night on the town at her favorite restaurant, one unforgettable evening of fun and pleasure. She smiled a happy, hopeful smile as she typed back to him. In her heart she hoped that she had finally met Mr. Right.

Quickly he closed the letter, moving the cursor to the JOIN IN THE FUN option. A menu appeared and from the list he chose Find Member. When the on-line computer asked him for the name of the member to find, he typed in MeriXmas. The computer checked through its data base and answered:

MeriXmas is in Party Room. Would you like to go there?

He quickly typed yes, and waited. The screen blanked for a moment. The words You Have Entered the Party Room appeared. He typed:

ShyGuy> Hi, MeriXmas, it’s me.

MeriXmas> Hi there, ShyGuy. Thought you might be by.

ShyGuy> Read your letter, would you mind meeting me in a private room?

MeriXmas> Let’s go.

ShyGuy> I’m going to open room NYC. Meet you there, okay??

MeriXmas> Sure, my place is fine! (I liked your play on words.)

Robert gave the computer the instructions to establish a private room called NYC, and to send him there. The computer informed him that he was now in the room NYC. MeriXmas appeared in the room almost immediately.

ShyGuy> You have a nice place here.

MeriXmas> I knew you’d enjoy it once you got here.

ShyGuy> Speaking of getting here, I couldn’t believe that you would actually go out with me. I was so afraid that you would laugh at my offer. Does that sound silly?

MeriXmas> What could be more crazy than looking for love on a PC? We don’t always pick how romance finds us. And if it doesn’t work out—we just keep on searching. Right?

The power inside of Robert reached out and drew the feelings of the young woman deep inside of him. He saw her sitting at her console, reading his words with the hope in her heart expanding. Nervously she waited for his response. He smiled and typed:

ShyGuy> Do you really think anyone can find love on a computer? What if you don’t like me when we meet face to face?

MeriXmas> Why wouldn’t I like you? And yes, I think people can fall in love anywhere, even on a computer.

ShyGuy> I do much better when I only have to type, I get tongue-tied around women. That’s why I don’t have a girlfriend now.

MeriXmas> Listen, my last boyfriend was really silver-tongued when I first met him and where did that lead? I like what you write. You sound like a nice guy. We have a head start at getting to know one another. Besides. . . . if you get too bashful, we can still type to one another on my PC. What do you think?

ShyGuy> Okay, it sounds good. Please don’t tell anyone about our date, I want it to be special, so very special for us. If other people are in on it, it would become a topic of discussion, i.e. gossip. I want it to be something just between you and me. Like a princess and her prince.

MeriXmas> So THAT’S the reason you don’t want me to say anything! Gives me goosebumps, my prince.

ShyGuy> My princess, my sweet. I’ll be there Friday and pick you up about 7PM, if that’s all right with you.

MeriXmas> See you then, Prince Charming!!!

They exchanged pleasant closing comments to one another, and Robert signed off. Chuckling, he thought, This is getting easier all the time. It is remarkable how stupid these little whores really are.

It had started as an ordinary Friday evening for Laura. She had walked into her elegant apartment around six o’clock, and as always, had kicked off her shoes. The lush cream carpet felt wonderful on the soles of her tired feet, especially when she dug her toes into it. Her bright red toenails disappeared into the thick pile of the rug. She sighed contentedly and headed toward the bar.

Laura was a tall woman. At first glance she appeared to be thin, but on closer observation, her athletic build showed under the exquisite blue silk blouse which matched the color of her eyes. She wore her blonde hair loose around her shoulders. The black silk slacks she wore clung seductively to her shapely, long legs.

Dropping ice cubes into a glass, Laura poured in two fingers of Glenlivet Scotch and added a splash of water. She raised the drink to her lips and took a sip. The amber liquid warmed her as she swallowed. Over the rim of the glass, she stared at the adversary she had been dreading facing all day. There it was. Her new personal computer. It was two weeks old, and it looked very nice and harmless sitting on her desk. Laura took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and walked toward it. Taking another pull at her drink, she set the glass down on the corner of the desk, reached out and flipped on the power switch.

An hour later, the tranquillity of the apartment was suddenly shattered by a scream and the sound of a chair hitting the floor. Laura was standing in the middle of the large room with her hands reaching out toward her desk.

What? What more could you possibly want? I’ve done everything you have told me to do. What else is there? Laura Anne Howard, Ph.D.., holder of two degrees in Psychology and Parapsychology, author of numerous books dealing with these subjects, head of the Department of Parapsychological Studies, New York University, was throwing a temper tantrum.

She began to pace back and forth, glaring at her desk and into the baleful eye of the computer. It sat there quietly, patiently, unmoved by the distraught woman who was screeching at it. Laura stopped her pacing. She looked at the little machine. Why am I yelling at you? It’s not your fault. It’s Sydney Chase’s fault. He’s the one who talked me into buying you! All I wanted was a new typewriter, but nooo. It’s ridiculous to pay all that money for an archaic typewriter, when for just a little bit more, you can have a wonderful little computer with all these WONDERFUL programs, and this WONDERFUL online service. Laura was imitating Sydney’s voice. Yes, this is all wonderful, if you are a computer geek like Mr. Sydney Albert Chase.

Laura marched to the bar to fix herself another drink. I’ll be an alcoholic before I get this computer to contact this Online Club. Sydney told me this is the easiest thing in the world to do. Now, I’ll admit that I am getting accustomed to this computer, and I do like the word processing program very much. And. . . ., Laura put her head down on the cool surface of the glass bar, I’m standing here talking to myself.

She straightened up. Biting her lower lip, she walked over to the computer again. She reread the Online Club instruction book, out loud, following the instructions exactly as she read them. Once again, the words, "error- the connection cannot be made at this time" flashed on the screen. Laura’s fists were clenched. She looked over her right shoulder, out the large sliding glass door that led to the balcony, and wondered what a fall of seventeen floors would do to the computer. She felt some degree of pleasure as she pictured it shattering into a million pieces. Finally, Laura decided it was time to swallow a little of her pride. She reached for the phone and dialed Sydney’s work number.

The phone in Sydney’s offices was answered by an automated computer answering system. As soon as instructed, Laura punched in his private extension number, and wondered if there were any phones left that were actually answered by human beings.

It only took two rings for Sydney to answer his phone. He was always at work and in fact, was the worst workaholic Laura knew. When she heard his voice, she could picture him sitting hunched over his keyboard. She kept warning him that he was going to end up looking like a question mark if he didn’t stand up and stretch once in awhile.

Hey, Freckle-face, how’s it going? he asked when he heard Laura’s voice.

Laura frowned. She hated it when anybody made reference to the splash of freckles across her nose. Her biggest mistake was letting Sydney know that it bothered her. From that moment on, he had never missed a chance to make some reference to them. His favorite was freckle-face.

Laura rewarded Sydney with an exasperated sigh. She could hear him chuckling. Are you finished? she snapped. I have some questions, and I could use a few minutes of your time.

Okay, Honey, my time is your time, or night and day time, you are the one, or as time goes by, you must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss, a sigh is just a sigh, he warbled.

Laura stayed absolutely quiet. She had learned years ago that when Sydney went into his Robin Williams mode and started free associating, the best thing to do was let him finish.

Laura? Are you there?

Yes, Sydney, may I ask my questions now?

Shoot, Honey.

Don’t tempt me, she thought. Sydney, I’m getting ready to sign on this Online Club, Laura lied, and before I do, I was wondering if there were any problems I might have that would keep me from making the connection properly?

Sydney tried to hide the amusement in his voice. Well, Laura, I don’t know. Did you have something specific in mind?

Laura didn’t have to use her considerable psychic power to know that Sydney was on to her. She was in no mood to be teased.

Okay, I lied. I’ve been trying to sign on to this damn Online Service for the last two hours. This stupid computer keeps telling me that the connection cannot be made at this time. Laura’s tone of voice was rising and the words were coming faster. I’ve typed my ID number in twice, the password that came with the book, I’ve checked and double checked the phone numbers until I know them by heart! What else am I supposed to be doing?

Sydney was well aware that Laura was more than a little frustrated. He knew that she was very close to losing her temper, and that was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. The last time she lost her temper with him, it took him three days to recover his ego. . . .not a good state to be in when you are the chief trouble shooter for computer services, including the Online Club.

Quietly, he said, Well, Laura, it sounds as if you’re doing everything right with the software. Now, I need to ask you a question. Don’t get mad.

Laura closed her eyes. She could feel Sydney’s reluctance and fear of her anger. It made her feel bad. She let out a deep breath.

Sydney, I’m not going to get mad at you. I just want to learn how to use this, this thing. You convinced me to buy it, even though all I wanted was a typewriter, but now that I have it, I absolutely refuse to let a piece of machinery get the better of me.

Laura, I’ll hold you to that. Now, the first thing I want you to check is the phone cable. Is it plugged into the computer correctly?

Laura pushed back from the desk a little, and looked at the floor. A sinking feeling pulled at her when she saw the phone cable coiled up, resting against the baseboard. The connector that was supposed to be plugged into the wall jack was sticking out of the coil. It looked like the head of a snake with its tongue sticking out. She felt like a complete idiot.

Listen, Sydney, I don’t want to waste your time. This is such a stupid little problem. I’m probably typing a number wrong. I’m going to let you go. I’ll work this out, I’m sure. Thanks, anyway. I’ll talk to you later?

Okay, honey. Good luck. Sydney collapsed over his desk laughing hysterically. He could only hope that Laura didn’t sense it.

Laura hung up. She bent over and took hold of the phone cable. She plugged it securely into the wall jack, and had the computer dial the number again. After a few moments she was rewarded with the message on her screen: WELCOME TO THE ONLINE CLUB.

The next message on the screen informed her that the system knew she was a first time user and asked if she would like to fill out a personal profile for the member directory. Intrigued, Laura started to answer the prompted questions.

Hmm, this might be fun after all, she thought.

Across town, Robert Ashton was standing in the hallway leading to Mary Stewart’s apartment. In his hand was a bouquet of red roses. Outside her door, he stopped and allowed his psychic power to lick out and touch the young woman behind the closed door. He saw her in front of her mirror, putting on the final touches of her makeup. He could feel how nervous she was about their meeting. A sick smile touched his lips.

The little fool, he thought. So sure of the power of the trap she is setting for me. Well, we’ll just have to see about that.

He walked up and rang the bell. It was exactly seven o’clock. He could hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. The sound of a lock being turned preceded the opening of the door.

Her hair was red and her skin was covered with the freckles which seemed to plague people with that hair color. She was fairly short with a medium build, dressed in a tight fitting black dress which contrasted well with her fair skin and flaming hair. The dress was cut low enough in the front to give Robert a very good look at her well endowed bust. Her makeup was understated and applied with a light hand. All in all she was a very pretty woman.

Her heart pounding, Mary stood in the doorway admiring Robert’s fine looks and dark hair. He was so much more handsome than she had dared hope. She could not take her eyes off his face. He had such a nice mouth. Finally, she found her voice.

ShyGuy? she asked tentatively.

Robert executed a perfect bow. At your service, princess. He picked up her cool hand and placed a delicate kiss on it. Actually, now that we’ve finally met, and you have not slammed the door in my face, I suppose you should call me Robert, Robert Taylor Ashton.

He hid his impatience while he waited for Mary to quit staring at him and invite him in. Finally, he asked, Would you rather I wait here, or may I come in while you finish with whatever you were doing?

Mary shook her head as though throwing off a spell, and said sheepishly, Oh no! I mean, no, yes, she stuttered, yes, please come in.

She followed him through the door. He was not the smallish man she was expecting. He was tall and muscular. He moved with a grace she had never seen in a man. His voice was as smooth as silk. Funny though, she couldn’t remember what color his eyes were. She would have to look again.

Mary gestured toward the sofa. "Would you like to sit down for awhile? We can talk a bit. Our reservations are for 8:30, and the restaurant is very close, so we’ll have plenty of time.

Robert struggled to keep from giggling.

He extended the flowers to her. I brought these for you. But now that I see you, these poor blossoms pale next to your beauty.

Mary reached for the flowers. Robert’s fingers touched hers. His power licked out at the girl and he felt her desire. He drew her to him and kissed her lips. He grasped her by the shoulders and pressed his mouth to hers even harder, feeling her yield to him.

Suddenly, he let her go. Mary was flushed. So many thoughts raced through her mind. Was this the man she had been waiting for? Could this beautiful man really want her? Flustered, she turned away.

Robert sat down on the sofa. Letting his power search around him, he found that there were very few people actually nearby. He smiled, knowing that there would be no need to take Mary from the apartment tonight. No one would be close enough to hear him give Mary the most memorable night of her short life.

Mary turned and saw the smile on Robert’s face. She felt her heart sink. So many times she had seen a similar smile on the faces of men who saw her as just a body instead of a person. She knew that men found her attractive, short but curved in all the right places. She had hoped that Robert was different, it was hard not to show her disappointment. She didn’t want him to be like all the other men she knew.

Picking up on the disappointment Mary was feeling, Robert said smoothly, Mary, you don’t know how lucky I feel having met you. It’s strange, but just watching you arrange flowers brings me an inordinate amount of pleasure. Do you think that’s childish of me?

Mary smiled at him, her heart filling with hope again. Oh, no, Bob, I like having you watch me.

Robert smiled at her. He hated the name Bob, but he gave no indication of it. She would learn soon enough that she could not treat men anyway she wanted. Mary, darling, how about a glass of wine?

Oh, sure. I have some in the fridge. She turned and walked into the kitchen.

In a few moments, Robert rose slowly from the sofa and followed her. He entered the kitchen just as Mary was opening the bottle.

How predictable, he thought. A cheap bottle of white wine.

Mary heard his footsteps on the kitchen floor. She turned, smiling, to offer him his glass. Then froze. For an instant she was held by his malevolent smirk and the lifelessness of his eyes. The smile began to fade from Mary’s face. As she opened her mouth to say something, Robert swung his fist and smashed it into the side of her head. Mary crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Grabbing her by her long red hair, Robert dragged her down the hallway to the door he knew led to her bedroom. The room was decorated in pinks and white. A canopied bed stood in one corner. He threw her onto the bed. A quick search of the dresser produced several pairs of pantyhose. With them he tied her spread eagle on the bed. Her closet provided him with more clothes to make a gag. Stuffing a tank top into her mouth, he tied it firmly in place with a thin silk scarf.

Robert hurried to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawers until he found her carving knife. It was dull, but it would do. He quickly returned to the bedroom. He didn’t want his little princess waking up without him there to greet her. He sat on the nightstand next to the bed until Mary regained consciousness.

Mary’s eyes fluttered open. Robert leaned over her and muttered, Well, let’s see what surprises you had in store for me tonight, shall we, Mary?

He took the knife and cut through the front of her dress. He was very careful not to cut the skin beneath the cloth. Slowly, he laid the dress open exposing her black bra and half-slip. He cut the slip open. Underneath, she wore a pair of brief lace panties. Her legs were bare.

Oh, my, look at this. I bet you thought that I would do anything for you just for a glimpse of these little pieces of fluff, didn’t you? With his free hand he roughly squeezed her breasts. You know, my mother was the same way. She thought all men were weak and gullible, but she knows differently now, just as you will know, Princess. He practically spat the words at Mary.

She began to thrash her head from side to side. She was terrified, but she thought if she were as cooperative as possible, he would rape her and leave.

Oh, I know what you think. What you all think! I know how you love to control men with your pretty hair, and your jewelry, and your make-up and perfumes. How these little lacy things you wear are supposed to drive us crazy with desire, and make us do anything you want us to do.

Reaching down, he took a handful of Mary’s hair and began to saw it off with the knife. Many times the knife slipped and cut deeply into her scalp. Blood flowed and stained the pillow beneath her head. Staring at her earrings, he took hold of her earlobes and sliced them off, dropping them to the floor. Mary was trying to scream, but the gag effectively cut off almost all sound. Robert stood over her, watching her. He was reveling in her terror.

And those pretty arms and legs, so weak in strength, but strong enough to bind us, you’d like to bind me to you, wouldn’t you, Mary?

Her back arched as he began to make long slow cuts down her arms. Mercifully, her body went into shock. She no longer felt the pain of the mutilation as Robert slashed at her legs. Mary began to die.

No you don’t! roared Robert, slapping her. Not until I’m done with you! Bending down so his face was close to hers, he stabbed deeply into her pubis and pulled the knife toward her heart. He watched as the life drained from her face.

He remained bent over her for a few moments. In a very juvenile voice, he whispered to her, See Mommy, I can, too, do things right.

He walked to the kitchen, found a pair of rubber gloves, and began to clean up. He washed the knife carefully and put it back where he found it. He picked up the bottle of wine where Mary had dropped it when he hit her. He cleaned up the broken glasses and washed the floor. You never know when company will stop by, he thought. And everything must always look perfect. When the kitchen was spotless he went into the living room and did the same thing in there. He looked around, satisfied with his job. He turned and walked back to Mary’s bedroom.

Her pale body was surrounded by a puddle of blood, the scent of it was heavy in the air. Robert noticed a loop of small intestine protruding from her abdomen. He walked over and tucked it back in.

Mary, he said, You’re such a messy little girl. If you don’t change, Mother will come and punish you. With a giggle, he turned and left the room.

On his way out of the apartment, Robert stopped by the vase with the roses. Breaking off the blossom of one, he placed it in the button hole of his lapel. He picked up the card and put it in his pocket. With a final glance at the apartment, he assured himself that it was in perfect order. He walked out the door. It was not until he reached the stairwell that he realized he was still wearing the rubber gloves. Shaking his head, he removed them and dropped them down the garbage chute.

Walking from the building to his car, he thought, This really is all too easy.

Back in Mary’s apartment, with the patience of the dead, her computer sat in the corner of the spare room. From the printer, a white trail of tractor feed paper extended from the top of the machine and lay in a pile on the floor, a long torturous road leading to Robert.

Laura was beginning to feel the effects of the two drinks and no dinner. She had finally finished filling out the profile questions asked by the computer. After a few moments of processing, the machine asked if she would like to talk to some people or just browse the service. She was advised that there were many software programs that she might like to look at, or, maybe access the large information sources and resources.

She was about to select the option which would take her to the information network when a box suddenly appeared in the center of her screen. It said:

Hey, you made it!!!!

Across the bottom were three choices for her. Answer Comment, Ignore, or Wait.

She moved the cursor to Ignore and pressed the mouse button. The box vanished. She attempted to choose the information network again, but another box appeared in the middle of the screen. This time it said:

Yoo-hoo! Oh, yoo-hoo, Laura! Welcome to the ONLINE CLUB.

Laura noticed at the top of the box was the name of the sender. It was someone named Wizard. Intrigued, she picked the option to answer the message and typed into the conversation box: Sydney, is that you??

The box cleared and flashed again.

Wizard> Yes, tis me Little One, the one and only Sydney!!!

Laura looked at the answer and frowned. She sensed it was Sydney, but never in all the years of their friendship had he ever referred to her as little one.

She typed back: How can I be sure??

Back came the response:

Wizard> WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP!!!!!!! RED ALERT RED ALERT!

We have an identity crisis. Sulu, set a course for 3768 mark 2, Chekov, warp factor three!!!!!

Laura looked up at the ceiling, shook her head, and laughed. Sydney was a Trekkie. He was free associating again, so there was nothing to do but sit and wait to see where he was going with this. Another line appeared on her screen:

Wizard> ARM PHOTON TORPEDOES! CHARGE ALL PHASER BANKS!!! Spock, I need sensor readings of this disbelief phenomenon.

Laura marveled at his mental gyrations. More was coming.

Wizard> I have it, Captain. It seems to be hovering around an earth dwelling located in the New York City sector. I have it on screen.

Wizard> This is Captain Sydney Chase of the United Federation Starship, ONLINE CLUB. You have ten seconds to believe or face total annihilation.

As the bizarre text ran across her screen, Laura held her hand to her mouth and laughed out loud. She was very familiar with Sydney’s fantastic flights of imagination. Across her screen came another message.

Wizard> Ten . . . Nine . . . Eight . . . Seven . . .

She quickly typed back: Okay, okay. I believe it’s you.

Wizard>HOLD YOUR FIRE. SECURE ALL WEAPONS AND BATTLESTATIONS. CANCEL RED ALERT!

Wizard> Whew, good thing you said that. Didn’t want to have to vaporize your apartment building.

Laura looked at the screen and typed back: How come everything you type has Wizard in front of it?

Wizard>Oh that. It’s called a screen name, gave it to myself. You can have a screen name, too, just need to get into a real dialog area.

How do I do that? Laura typed.

Wizard>Take mouse, move screen cursor to top of screen. Open dialog box, push right mouse button twice. Computer will do rest.

Laura read the message and found the option. She did as Sydney suggested and saw on her screen: Laura 1968>

She typed back to Sydney:

Laura1968> Why do I have a number after my name?

Wizard> Means you are 1968th Laura on line in service’s data base, Kiddo.

Laura> Sydney, you are talking in sentence fragments, did you know that? If I am the 1968th Laura on line, how many people are signed up on this service?

Wizard>Yep, easier that way. Get same info across just use less words. Right now bout 295,000. Big service, huh?

Laura1968> I don’t believe that many people can be using the service at one time. What do they all do once they are on line?

Wizard> Not all on line at same time. But many use the service.

Wizard> They talk or use online to look for info on things they like or are interested in. Sometimes look for other people with same interests.

Laura1968> How do you do that? Look for people with same interests?

God, she thought, now he has me talking in sentence fragments.

Wizard> Go to top screen with cursor, move to option selection. Choose: Find Info on Members. Answer questions, can be as exact or general as you want.

Laura1968> Okay, I’ll try, but what do I do after I make my selections?

Wizard> Computer will give list of names, highlight name with cursor, double click mouse, computer will give you info. See what people have to say about themselves. Send mail.

Laura1968> Okay, then what do I do?

Wizard> Once you find someone you want to talk to, send me a message, I’ll be back and help from there. Got to get back to work, Kiddo. TaTa for now!

Before Laura could respond to Sydney’s last message, his name winked off the screen. With a shrug of her shoulders she did as he had directed her to do. When the computer asked her the question: What type of interests do you want to search? Laura was at a loss. She tipped her head back and glanced around the room. Her gaze came to rest on the wine rack in the bar. She typed in the word wine, and clicked the button. A happy face beside the message Please Wait A Moment appeared and stayed on the screen for thirty seconds. Finally, a box appeared in the middle of the screen. At the top it read, 2318 matches found, and a list of twenty-five names appeared below the box with another message, Push enter for more names.

Out of curiosity, she moved the mouse pointer to the name, BillyJoeBob, and clicked the mouse button twice. The list of names was replaced with a white square . On the square was printed:

Screen Name: BillyJoeBob

Name: William J. Roberts

Home: Palatine, Illinois USA

Sex: Male

Interests: Hunting, Football, Wine, and Camping.

Laura was feeling a little daunted at the thought of having to go through a list of over two thousand names to find someone to talk to, so she went back to the menu and started again. This time when she asked