Solitude Creek (Kathryn Dance 4)

"Texas."

His face gave a minuscule twitch. He knew what was coming.

"If you agree, I've spoken to the prosecutor here in California, and he'll accept a death penalty waiver." She gazed at him steadily. "And will guarantee no extradition to Texas. We subpoenaed your credit card statements, Andy. You were in Fort Worth six months ago, finding clients for your website. The same time of the stampede at the Prairie Valley Club. You used that homeless man for your fall guy there. But there'll be some forensics tying you to that incident, I'm sure. They'll go for capital murder. And they'll get it. The daughter of a state politician was killed in the stampede there."

The tip of his tongue eased against a lip and retreated. "And here? I'll get life."

&

nbsp; "Maybe a little shorter. Depends."

He said nothing.

"Or call your lawyer."

March's eyes scanned her from the top of her head to her waist, leaving a chill repulsion in the wake of his gaze.

"You'll guarantee that? Personally." He dragged the word out, almost seductively.

"Yes."

"I have one condition."

"What's that?"

"I can call you 'Kathryn.'"

"That's fine. Now, what's the condition?"

"That's it. You let me use your first name."

He could call me whatever he wants. But he's asking my permission to use the name? The sensation of ice brushed the back of her neck.

She forced herself not to react. "You can use my name, yes."

"Thank you, Kathryn."

She opened her notebook and uncapped a pen. "Now. Tell me, Andy. How did you meet Chris Jenkins?"

Chapter 84

The two men had become acquainted in one of the snuff forums online.

Dance recalled the websites that Jon Boling had found featured not only pictures that could be downloaded but also forums where members could post messages and chat in real time.

Jenkins was former military. While on tour, he'd taken a lot of pictures overseas of battlefields, bodies, torture victims. He himself had no interest in the images themselves but learned he could make good money selling them to news media or, even more lucrative, private collectors.

March explained, "Every night I was online, looking at this stuff. It's the only thing that kept the..."

"The what?" Dance asked.

A pause. "Only thing that kept me calm," he said. "He had good-quality pictures and I bought a number of them. We got to know each other that way. Then he started running low on original material--he'd been out of the army for years. I asked if he'd be interested in buying some from me--pictures he could resell. I didn't have much but I sent him a video I'd done of an accident during a bungee jump. I was the only one who'd gotten the actual death. It was...pretty graphic.

"Chris told me it was very good and he knew a collector who'd pay a lot for it as an exclusive. It would have to be private--if it was posted, then a video lost its value. I got to work and started to send him material. After a few months we met in person and decided to start our business. He came up with the idea of a humanitarian website, with pictures of disasters. Sure, some people went online to give money. Mostly people downloaded the pictures. I took a lot of them myself, traveling overseas or to disaster areas. They were good, the video and the pictures. People liked them. I'm good at what I do."

"Where did you get this material?"

A smile crossed his face. His eyes stroked her skin and she forced the cold away. He said, "Next time you find yourself at any tragedy, a train or car crash, a race car accident, a fire, a stampede..." His voice had fallen.