Final Victim (1995) Read Online Free PDF Page A

program would reset the environmental control to the normal temperature of 72. But The Rat was clever, and he knew that there would be a record of this wild temperature fluctuation, so he had written another program, which he had named BogusLog. It would quietly replace a section of the building's environmental log and show a normal temperature record for 4-W. As its last act, WindLog would erase itself and leave BogusLog to reflect the incorrect time and temperature information, leaving no trace of The Wind Minstrel's magic.
    He waited until he felt the heat come on, then unplugged the small computer and packed it in with his other treasures. He left the office by the fire stairs, never bothering to look back at the mutilated body of Candice Wilcox.
    He went down the stairs and exited through the first-floor door on Center Street, never coming close to the security guard. He was careful to leave that door slightly ajar. He walked to his truck and put the large suitcase into the front seat. He would have to drive quickl y t o get back to Tampa by dawn. He stopped only once in Thomasville, near the Florida border, to get gas.
    It was 7:28 A . M . when he got to the computer store where he worked in Tampa. Sitting in the parking lot, he made the last call to the building's computer. Again, he used the root password, GOD. Once in, he accessed the security module of the computer. He added the Center Street door back into the system and erased his original deletion. He watched as the perimeter-breach alarm flashed on the computer graphic, indicating a break-in through the Center Street fire door. He then watched as the automatic dialer notified building security and the Atlanta PD.
    The Rat knew that when the body was found by the Atlanta police, the liver temperature would still be close to its normal 102 degrees. He knew that all homicide units measure liver temperature for time-ofdeath estimates, because it is the hottest organ in the body. The police would find no lividity and no loss of liver temperature, even though almost nine hours had past since the murder. The Rat knew they would place the TOD at approximately 7:30 A . M ., when the alarm triggered. He had a perfect alibi: He was at work more than four hundred miles away. The Rat was cunning and shrewd. His skin didn't hurt him now. His nipples didn't ache or sting, but he was again wretched and foul. He hurried into Tampa ComputerLand, where Leonard was a part-time PC repair tech. He punched in. His time card said 7:36. All he had left to do was call and tell Satan that he had possessed the arms.

    Chapter 4

AWESOME DAWSON
    She was standing naked in the cold shower, while icy water hit her face and ran like cold tentacles down her ribs, between her legs, to the tile floor. She had just come back from her morning five-mile run. Her skin vibrated with the needle-cold spray. She was beginning to suspect that her new job was another in a long line of disappointing mistakes. It always started with the decision to take up the challenge, then came the false euphoria and the fantasy expectations. But reality and boredom always followed. Despite all of her accomplishments, boredom always hovered, beating wings of emptiness and scaring her with its dark promise. Boredom was her dangerous stalker. She knew, of course, it explained a lot of things about her: the need to push herself, the life-threatening sports . . . The risks seemed to bring her alive. She had a doctorate in psychology and knew that her symptoms signaled a deep inner problem, yet she couldn't fathom why she could find nothing to hold her interest.
    She reached out and took her razor, turned the water warmer, then slid down, feeling the cold tile against her back. She sat on the floor of the shower, with the spray hitting her shoulders, and stared at the razor. It had been her father's, an antique with a twist shaft that released the blade. She had inherited it from him, along with his huge, unwieldy