Murder 42 - A Thriller (Sarah King Mysteries Book 2) by Victor Methos Page A

Stefan and then stepped forward. “I wanna have a tech search your computer.”
    “For what?”
    “To see if this video is sitting on there. Your phone and any tablets, too. I can have him up here in an hour. It’s either that or I arrest you now and call the AG. Your choice.”
    He shrugged. “Fine, man. Do your thing. I ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” He paused. “Can I see the video again?”
    Gio started to leave without saying anything. Sarah glanced back at the living room and noticed a woman sitting on the couch: she was nude and wasn’t looking at them. That was life in California—the bigger the scumbag, the more lovely the woman sitting on his couch.
     
     
    Sarah sat on the front steps as two FBI computer systems technicians searched California Bill’s devices. So far, they had turned up nothing but droves of pornography. Disgusting, horrible pornography, they said, but nothing illegal.
    Sarah wrapped her arms around herself though it wasn’t cold. Not too far off was the ocean, and she could hear the waves rolling into shore. She closed her eyes and listened, imagining she were on a ship far out at sea. The waves making the wood of the boat creak, lolling it from side to side, a storm sprinkling rain on her before the sky cleared and the sun shone brightly again.
    “You doin’ okay?” Stefan said, poking his head out of the house.
    “Fine, thanks.”
    “Won’t be much longer. We’ve contacted several of the actors in the videos, and so far they all said it was consensual. We’ll try to catch a red-eye back to Scottsdale. I don’t think this company has any connection to the video.”
    “Sorry, it’s my fault we wasted so much time.”
    Stefan sat down on the steps next to her. “Don’t be ridiculous. We had to follow up on this. It was too similar. You did a great job finding those videos. And if nothing else, I know way more about scat porn than I ever thought I would.”
    “What’s that?”
    “You don’t want to know.” He checked his watch. “You still hungry?”
    “Starving.”
    “Let’s go. We’ll be back before they finish up.”
    “Maybe we should wait for Gio?”
    Stefan looked back into the house. “I think he’s happy as a clam. He won’t mind. I promise.” He rose and held out his hand. Sarah took it, and they headed to the car.

17
     
     
     
     
    The elderly couple stepped out of the home, and Oliver Farkas ducked lower in his car. He didn’t think they could see him anyway; he knew they both wore strong prescription glasses and that the wife, Gloria, had severe cataracts. It didn’t matter. When it came to caution, he would rather have an overabundance than not enough.
    The couple got into their Subaru and pulled out of their driveway. They were off for a well-earned trip, one that cost them a good quarter of their savings. But Gloria was dying of lymphoma. It was a new diagnosis that the couple was still digesting, and they had always wanted to see Europe.
    Farkas figured he knew more about the couple than they knew about themselves. He knew that Gerald, the husband, had a pornography addiction. It intrigued Farkas, as eighty-two-year-old Gerald shouldn’t have cared much about sex anymore. That was one of the perks of growing old, Farkas had always figured. Sex wouldn’t dominate the male mind. But now he thought that maybe it always dominated the mind, but the body’s ability to perform went away.
    Once the couple had left, Farkas waited a good ten minutes. When he was certain they weren’t coming back, he started his car and pulled up the driveway. He used his garage door opener, programmed two weeks ago to the frequency of the couple’s, and then closed the garage behind him.
    Inside the garage, his stomach fluttered. This was the moment that made it all worth it. Everyone else could have the act and the memory. The anticipation was what he lived for. He got out of the car.
    The door leading into the home was up two stone steps, and he used the key