Which brought me back to Veronika. Was it just a coincidence that she’d been pregnant and dating a mystery man? And if Mia had been the target, what was Veronika even doing in Mia’s trailer? I’d never been a big fan of puzzles, and this one was making my head hurt.
I was just about to reach into my purse and dig for an aspirin when the “William Tell Overture” burst out from its depths. Officer Mustache glanced at me through the bars in the divider.
“My cell, ” I explained, flipping it open. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Jasmine.”
My heart instantly sped up, and I gave a guilty glance at Officer Mustache, as if he could telepathically feel a “harebrained scheme” being cooked up in the backseat.
“Hi, ” I said in a low voice. “What’s up?”
“Why are you whispering?” she asked.
I cleared my throat. Then louder: “No reason. What’s up?” I gave Officer Mustache a reassuring smile in the rearview mirror. It came off a little feeble, but I think I saw him return it under his bristled lip.
“You asked me to call when he logged on, ” Jasmine said in a bored voice.
I held my breath. “Yes?”
“Well, he’s on. Logged on a couple of minutes ago.”
“A couple of minutes? You were supposed to call me the second he showed up!”
“Hey, I have stuff to do. I can’t just jump when you tell me, Blondie.”
I thought a really bad word.
“Okay, fine. Look, just keep him on. I’ll be right there.”
Officer Mustache glanced at me in the rearview, seemingly picking up on the panic in my voice. I sent him a one-finger wave. No return smile this time. Crap.
“Fine. I’ll try. But hurry.” Jasmine punctuated this by hanging up on me with a loud click.
I flipped my phone shut and tapped on the divider.
“Uh, excuse me?”
Officer Mustache glanced in the rearview again. “Yeah?”
“Um, could we possibly make a little stop?”
He frowned. “No can do. Detective Ramirez was very clear: I should take you straight to your place and wait for him there.”
Damn. My babysitter was well-informed.
I shifted in my seat, the vinyl giving an unladylike burp, as I tried a different tactic. “Um, what address did he give you?”
“Ten Ocean View Road.”
I crossed my fingers and hoped that Ramirez was up for forgiving me just one more time. “That’s the wrong address.”
Officer Mustache gave me a confused look over his shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘wrong’?”
“I moved. Recently. Ramirez gave you my old address.”
Mustache gave me a scrutinizing look. I held my breath, trying to look as innocent as possible.
“Maybe I should call Ramirez to verify it.”
“No!” I shouted.
Mustache jumped in his seat.
“I mean, uh, no need to do that. No need to bother him over something so trivial. Right?”
He narrowed his eyes at me again in the mirror. I did a poor imitation of Dana’s eyelash-batting thing.
Officer Mustache gave me a long stare, then slowly nodded his head. “Yeah, okay.”
Mental sigh of relief.
“Anyhoo…let me give you my new one.” I recited Jasmine’s address and felt a little lift of triumph as he pulled off the 2 and made a U-turn, heading back to the 101.
I quickly dialed Felix’s number, which, fortunately, he picked up this time.
“Felix Dunn.”
“Where are you?”
“On my way home from the studio. Why?”
“We’re a go, ” I said.
“Cyber guy?”
“Yep.”
“All right, I’ll get the trace on him ASAP. Just keep him logged in.”
“I’ll try. Call me the second you have him. I’m not sure how long Jasmine can keep him on the line.”
“Done.”
Felix hung up, and I felt a little lift of excitement. With any luck, we’d have our baby-daddy identified in a matter of minutes.
As it turned out, Officer Mustache was a cautious driver, and by the time we pulled up in front of Jas-mine’s den of iniquity, I’d picked every bit of nail polish off my fingernails and was tapping my foot so hard I feared I might break a heel.
“You live here?” Mustache asked, doing a low whistle as he parked at the curb.
“Yup. Thanks for the ride!”
“Detective Ramirez told me to wait.”
“Oh. Right. Okay, sure, whatever.” Honestly, at the moment I couldn’t care less whether Officer Mustache cooled his heels at the curb. All I cared about was whether or not Veronika’s boyfriend was still logged into the system.
I practically raced up the pathway to Jasmine’s front door, the mix of adrenaline and sudden exertion leaving me panting like a Saint Bernard by the time she answered my knock.
“Is”-in-“he”-out-“still”-in-“logged”-out-“on?”
Jasmine gave me disgusted look (apparently Barbies don’t pant) and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep him hooked.”
I followed her into the house, past the living room, and up a set of curved wrought-iron stairs. Jasmine then led me down a wide hallway full of closed doors, the walls punctuated with pictures of half-naked women doing acrobatics on the hoods of sports cars.
“I’ve got Anna entertaining him in one of the private chat rooms, but he’s already losing interest, ” she continued. “He’s already typed, ‘I gotta go, ’ like, three times.”
I looked down at my cell, willing it to chirp to life with Felix’s number. Nope. Silent. “Can’t she keep him on just a little longer?”
“She’s trying. But Anna’s a brunette. This guy really prefers blondes.”
“So, send in a blonde.”
Jasmine shook her head. “With Veronika gone, the only blondes I have are the twins, Mandi and Candi. They’re off today shooting a Doublemint commercial.” Jasmine paused, then gave me a slow up-and-down, her eyes settling on my down-to-there neckline.
Uh-oh.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Not me. I can’t do this kind of thing!”
Jasmine raised one eyebrow at me. “Really? ’Cause you’re certainly dressed the part.”
“No, I’m not…I mean, I don’t…Look, I can’t even talk dirty to my boyfriend without blushing.”
Jasmine scoffed at me. “It’s easy. Guys don’t need anything flowery. Just talk ‘tab A, slot B, ’ and pout a lot, ” she said, pushing me toward a closed door at the end of the hall.
“But what if he wants me to, you know…play cards?” I asked, lowering my voice.
Jasmine smirked, and I had a feeling this was some sort of divine revenge on her part. “Don’t worry. Just ask him what he wants.”
“But I-”
Jasmine cut me off, opening the door and shoving me in ahead of her. In the center of the room sat a large, canopied four-poster bed covered in layers of pink and ruffles, in the center of which sat a brunette in her skivvies doing kissy-faces at a camera mounted in the corner of the room. Beside the bed sat a computer screen with a bunch of cables running from the back of it. On the screen were lines of text written by someone named BigBoy78. I squinted and made out the words you’re so hot and take it off.
Oh boy.
“Anna, ” Jasmine said, playing to the camera. “I need you downstairs. Maddie is going to take over in here.”
Anna did a seductive little wave to the corner, then followed Jasmine out the door.
“He’s all yours, ” Jasmine said. And I could swear I heard her Barbie laugh as she shut the door.