Page 48 of Saving Meadow

“Since you’re all here and I would like to stop talking about dog shit and my sex life, I think I found something.” I pointed to the list in front of me.

“Hold up. We were talking about your sex life? What’d I miss?” Ben asked.

“Meadow spent the night last night. Though Nick’s grumpy today, so either he was denied, or it was so good he’s pissed he had to get out of bed,” Mike helpfully told Ben.

“Shit. I’m pissed I gotta roll outta bed every morning and leave my hot wife to come in here and see you assholes. So, I can’t say I blame him for being less than pleased. By my calculations, it’s been at least a year since he’s been laid.”

I would’ve been pissed that Ben and Mike were discussing my sexual activity or lack thereof if I didn’t find it so interesting that Ben was mostly right about the last time I’d been with a woman.

“It is a tad disturbing that you’ve paid that much attention to my personal life and when I’m having sex,” I told him.

“The neuroscience behind human sexuality is fascinating. You can learn a lot about a person by their sex drive, lack of, or when they’re unable to find a sex partner.”

“Sometimes your brain scares me,” Mike laughed. “Your poor wife. Do you study her as closely as all of us?”

“Lucky for her I study her more. Trust me; she loves that I know how to crawl into her mind and pull out what I need. Besides, Nick’s easy, he can’t hide the symptoms of sex deprivation.”

Christ.

“We’re moving along,” I told them. “The case.” I pointed to the list again.

“The case is interesting and all. But I have to know, what are the symptoms?” Mike asked.

“My dry spell is none of your fucking business,” I snapped.

Mike and Ben threw their heads back and laughed. Assholes. When Ben recovered, he said, “First symptom, extreme hostility, and bitchiness. Friend, a year is not a spell, it’s a drought.”

“Fuck you.”

“Wow. Nice greeting.” Kristy smiled and held out a folder. “I cross-referenced those names. You were right. All the bars that used cloud-based storage - while the companies were all different, when cross checked, all of the smaller companies did indeed purchase space from Fusion Telecom.”

“Fuck!”

“There’s your connection.” Kristy smiled, and I took the folder from her.

“Conference room?” Mike asked.

I grabbed the papers off my desk and followed Mike and Ben into the other room. Sally padded along behind me, hackles still up. If I’d had time, I would’ve taken her home. I didn’t like the way her ears were at attention and she was on alert.

“What’s the connection?” Ben asked, breaking my concern of Sally.

I looked at the whiteboard. Becky’s picture had already been added to the other fourteen women we couldn’t save.

“Fifteen dead women. All found after a night out at a bar. Eleven on the seventh. Four on the twentieth. All security footage erased. Fourteen, if you count Meadow’s attack, were stored on a cloud server; two stored on an onsite computer. Each bar used a different small company to buy their space. All fourteen of those companies bought space of Fusion Telecom servers to resell to their clients. How much you want to bet that Fusion had access to the two onsite computers as well.”

I spread out the papers that Kristy had given me, Ben and Mike scrutinizing the data.

I grabbed the landline on the table and dialed Kristy’s office extension, hoping she was back in her office while ignoring the knot that was growing in my gut. All the murders tied back to Fusion Telecom, the very place Meadow was at right now.

“Keep a lid on it, Clark,” Mike said as if he’d read my mind.

“Hello?” Kristy answered.

“How many women does Fusion Telecom employ?” I asked, placing the call on speaker.

“Hold on.” There was the sound of the tapping of her keyboard before she said, “Damn. More than I thought. Fusion has 482 employees including executives and 290 are women.”

“Narrow that to single women, between thirty and forty,” Ben told her.