Page 51 of Just Curious

He ignored her question. This was way too much fun.

When the car got to the big open area, Ryker played games with it, making figure eights and zigzag patterns at top speed. The patterns grew larger and larger until he hit the edge of what he thought was Blacks’ Beach. All of a sudden, he lost control of the steering and the speed, and the car looked as if it were bumping up and down for a few second, and then all progress stopped.

“Huh. Look at that. It must have gotten stuck in the sand or something,” he told Deb.

“What sand? I thought you said he was up on Torrey Pines. There’s no sand up there.”

“Yeah, there is. Look at the map. It says right there, ‘Black’s Beach.’” Just as Deb read what Ryker pointed to, the screen went blank.

Deb’s eyes bugged out as she gasped in horror at what Ryker had just done. “Youidiot!” she cried as she shoved his arm. “Black’s Beach is at sea level! That’s not the edge of the sand! It’s a huge, steep drop-off! You probably just killed him. Is that what you wanted? The car went over the cliff. You’re a murderer!”

“No way, you lying piece of shit! It’s just stuck in the sand.” Ryker’s face didn’t look as confident as his words sounded.

Deb couldn’t stand it. “Google Black’s Beach and get a picture of it then, you’ll see what I’m talking about. Black’s is below a huge cliff that people climb down to get to it. It’s really steep.” She did a fast search on her phone and shoved it into Ryker’s face. “See?It says right here that it’sthree hundred and fifty feet high. I wonder how many other people you killed when that carlandedon them!”

“Holy fucking… I gotta get outta here!” Ryker ran to the closet and began stuffing random items into a gym bag.

“I thought you said no one could trace this back to you. That’s what you assured me anyway. Were you lying?”

“No oneshouldbe able to, but if I’ve killed a bunch of people that might just inspire them to work a little harder at it than if it was just me playing around with someone’s car for a while.”

“So, when the cops show up, what am I supposed to tell them? That you murdered a bunch of naked people with a car you hijackedfor funand then ran away to Timbuktu?” she shouted at him. “Wouldn’t you be better off destroying that computer and claiming you’re innocent?” She stepped into his space and yelled, “Use your brain, Ryker!”

“I can’t justdestroyit. It has all of my… work on it.”

“Then I’ll do it for you, you big idiot.” Deb reached for the can of grape soda sitting next to Ryker’s laptop, and as he watched incredulously, she poured the contents all over the keyboard.

“Nice try, you scheming shrew. Did you happen to notice the cover over the keys? That system is waterproof. It’s made for heavy use and for people who work in harsh conditions. All you did was make it sticky, you dumb bitch. Get out of here and get something to wipe it off with. Some paper towels or something. I’m gonna pack.”

“Like you were going to go on somemissionwith that computer? Who are you kidding?” she scoffed. “You need the emergency room for a hangnail, you big baby. Harsh conditions, my ass.”

“Hey, living with a klutz like you has its disadvantages. The sturdy protections just saved all of my work. So, who’s laughing now, huh?”

They went round and round like this for the better part of an hour, both slinging insults at top volume, and neither making any headway.

Eventually the doorbell rang, and Ryker ran and hid in the closet. “Don’t answer that!” he shouted.

The doorbell rang again and outside a man called, “FBI! We know you’re in there. We could hear you yelling all the way to the street. Now open the door or we’ll smash it in. We have a warrant for your arrests.”

Deb marched stoically to the front door, and three uniformed and armed men showed their IDs and barged in. One of them immediately handcuffed Deb, while the other two went to search for Ryker. They found him pounding the crap out of his beloved laptop with a shoe. It wasn’t doing anything to the basically bullet-proof case, especially since the shoe he grabbed was a sneaker.

He looked at their amused faces and asked, “What does the FBI have to do with this? There’s no federal crime here.”

Clapping handcuffs onto him, one of the agents said, “Buddy, we’ve been surveilling this house for days, and you are under arrest for the federal felony of internet crimes. You’ve used the internet to threaten or cause harm to another individual, and you’re in deep trouble. We have all of your online information on our computers already, so smashing up this little toy won’t do jack shit for you.”

Ryker knew that murder wasn’t a federal crime, but he wasn’t about to bring that to their attention. He wasn’tthatstupid. He did wonder how many people had died, though, and the idea was starting to make him queasy.

Chapter 33

The police who’d been dispatched to the Torrey Pines Road area drove around aimlessly looking for anyone who was speeding or seemed to be having car difficulties. They got to the top of the hill and looked around and still saw nothing. “Wow,” one of the cops said to the other, “it’s so damn windy; this area is completely deserted. Usually, the gliderport area is full of cars and people going out hang gliding and whatnot. I guess it closed early because of the winds.”

“Nature is being difficult today. The beaches are also closed because of a terrible riptide. I guess that goes along with this wind, but what do I know?”

“Well, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Why don’t you call in our 10-42? I’m getting hungry; it’s time to go off-duty.”

As the squad car left the area, a wisp of smoke drifted up over the edge of the cliff, but they were long gone and missed it. The smoke quickly dispersed in the wind.

Chapter 34

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