Heart of Ice

Chapter Fifty-two

Garden Grove

The invitation to be heard was almost too much. Michael Barton looked at the comment feature on Jenna Kenyon’s blog. He read what some of the other readers had to say.

Jenna! You rock! You are the most awesome consultant in the whole world. I don’t know what we would do without you and your advice!

—Cherie, BZ, Biloxi

Hey! If you ever come back to Huntsville, we have to hook up! You are smart, funny, and a blast to hang out with. Don’t forget your BZ sis Megan!

—Megan, BZ, Huntsville

I have some more ideas to brainstorm with you. I’ll send you a PowerPoint with the particulars! You know me, I love bullet points!

—Donatella, BZ, Bowling Green

Michael clicked the pencil icon that indicated he could leave a comment. A window popped open. The blank space stared at him. Yeah, he wanted to leave a comment. But what he had to say wasn’t going to be so upbeat. What he wanted to say could be traced back through his Internet provider or IP address.

He started to type.

Hi bitch! You think that you’re something pretty special, don’t you? You think that you’re so smart, talented, pretty. You’re a piece of garbage, that’s what you are. I’d like to use a dull knife and take my time hacking off your head from your bony ass body. I’d like to take dynamite and stuff it in every orifice and light the goddamn fuse. You’re nothing. You and your sisters think that you rule the world. But you don’t. I won’t let you. You’re indifferent to anyone who doesn’t fit into your predetermined plan. Bitch! Do you even remember Sarah? Do you ever think about her? Pretty soon you will. Believe me, it will be the last thing you ever think about!

He heard his wife stirring. Olivia was coming down the stairs. He minimized the window and opened another file. He looked up and smiled.

“Hi, baby,” she said, “it’s late. I want you to come to bed.” Her beautiful dark skin glistened from a bath. She smelled of the faintest hint of lavender. As she put her hand on his shoulder and tugged, her nipple protruded from the slit of her robe.

Michael looked in her eyes. “Hold that thought,” he said. “I’ll be right up.”

“You better. I’m a lonely girl.”

“I’ll power down now.”

Olivia disappeared up the stairs and he went back to Jenna Kenyon’s blog. He waved the curser over the box that said “post.” It was so tempting. He wanted so much for that girl to know that her fate was something to fear. Her future belonged to him.

He closed out the blog without saving it.

No need to warn her, of course. No need to get caught.