65...

She scanned a wide variety of web pages, most of them fakes, most them pages that people would only stumble upon accidentally. She looked at pages that showed lines of clothing that had never been designed by designers that had never been heard of. She looked at pages that chronicled bands that were the fantasies of boys turned to men who had never dared to dream it; including bland songs in MP3 form designed to be forgotten. She looked at a web diary of girl named Susan, knowing full well that Susan was actually three men and a twenty-one year old woman named Vana who had a mad desire for killing through strangulation. She looked at the biography for a figurehead spiritual leader which advertised autographed copies of his book, knowing that the picture of said leader was that of a man that had been engulfed in the flaming wreck of his tampered with car three years ago, and knowing that anyone who happened to try ordering the book would get an apologetic email stating that it was currently out of stock.
She quickly glanced over the HTML code before her, looking for tell-tale messages that would be addressed to her. She saw nothing that had not been there before. She went back to a page advertising forgettable sweaters, looking at the picture of a purple, cashmere, deep scoop, V-neck sweater. She read the description below.

Luxurious 4 season Mediterranean cashmere in a fine 12 gauge knit. Rib trim at neck and cuffs. Three quarter sleeves. Rolled edge at hem. Hits at hip. Import. Dry Clean. Item #3055708-7092653.

She had seen it 2 weeks ago, the coded message that had told her to lay and wait, told her where and what she should most likely do to keep inconspicuous. The advice was unnecessary, but sort of sweet when you thought about it in a certain way. It may be too hot out there for a phone call just yet, but she had hoped that someone would at least toss out a line, anything to keep her from letting her imagination get the worst of her. She felt like a lone sailor, lost at sea.
Alexis was doing her best to not feed that quick and dangerous little paranoia monster busy shaking its cage. If she got twitchy, jumped the gun on something, she could not only wind up dead but could royally fuck things up for other people. But, when you were involved in a business that could get you killed at anytime, the threat of death as a deterrent was a little silly.
But there was the threat of an awful, bloody, prolonged and painful death at the hands of someone who seriously enjoyed inflicting a death of this sort.
She quickly glanced through the sites again, looking for any sign of Vanessa Park. She found what appeared to be the last mention of her on website touting the productions of a theater company in Ukiah, California. A rousing edition of My Fair Lady was set to never arrive in November. From what she could tell, Vanessa was last supposed to be in New York. But Vanessa liked to flaunt procedure and she could be anywhere.
“Sheryl?”
Alexis spun away from the computer, senses jumping and at the ready, alt shifting away from the website automatically. Louis stood there behind the register counter looking up at her with a crooked grin.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked.