[Alex Mercer 01.0] Girl in Trouble

by Stacy Claflin

  “Turn yourself in!” someone shouted.

  Alex clenched his fists. “I didn’t do it!”

  “Arrest him!” someone yelled.

  “Yeah!” agreed others.

  “Arrest Alex!”

  “Arrest him!”

  So many shouted it, it sounded like a chant. They repeated it, growing louder each time. The group—now at least twenty—walked slowly toward him, crying out for his arrest.

  His stomach dropped. There was no way he could take on that many, and more were joining, making the protests louder each time they called for his arrest.

  Luke grabbed Alex’s arm and yanked. That time, Alex didn’t fight him.

  Collaborate

  Alex rubbed his sore cheek and stared at the picture—it looked like him dragging a body into a black van next to the Ball Palace. It was either a photo that had been altered or it was of someone who could have been his twin.

  If Fleshman didn’t believe him, Alex was in trouble. He’d texted the picture to him, and Fleshman was supposed to have forwarded it to some photo experts, but the picture looked bad—really bad.

  Alex studied the picture. He hadn't been wearing those clothes when Ariana had been taken. In fact, he didn't own any of those clothes—a faded, brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a blue beanie with AF across the front. He’d never owned anything like that other than the jeans.

  That had to count for something, right?

  He paced the living room, staring at his phone. How long would it take for Nick to call him back?

  “You’re going to make yourself dizzy.” Dad glanced up from behind his laptop.

  “Is everyone else falling for it?” Alex asked. “Online?”

  Dad frowned. “I’m not reading any of the comments.”

  “Well, tell them it’s fake. That’s not me!”

  “I believe you, but it’s hard for anyone who doesn’t know you. It looks—”

  “Just like me. I know.”

  “Tell them I was never there. Those aren’t my clothes.”

  “Unfortunately, even if I said anything, nobody would believe me. I’m your dad, remember?”

  Alex pulled his arm back, aiming to throw his phone across the room. He stopped. That wouldn’t help anything, and he sure couldn’t afford a new one.

  His phone rang. It was Fleshman.

  “Did your photo expert prove it wasn't me?” Alex demanded.

  “They’re both looking at it now. In the meantime, you should come here.”

  “What?” Alex exclaimed. “I’m not going down to your office.”

  “I’m not talking about the station.”

  “You’re not going to arrest me, are you?”

  “No. Come to my condo—totally off the record. Just two guys hanging out, talking about our kids over beer and chips.”

  Alex’s mouth dropped. He struggled to find his voice. “Y-you’d do that?”

  “Off the record—as in, it never happened. Got it?”

  “What never happened?” Alex asked facetiously.

  “Good. I’ll text you my address. Parking’s crap around here just to warn you. You’ll have to walk a block or two.”

  “Sure, no problem. Thanks, Fleshman.”

  “I told you to call me Nick.”

  “Okay. See you soon, Nick.” Alex ended the call and backed everything up on the cloud before powering down his laptop. Fleshman—Nick—was actually going to hear him out. It was strange to call him by his first name—it was like calling one of his old teachers by their name. But maybe if they were equals, he’d be able to convince Nick to take what they’d found out about the other kidnappings. Alex was growing more convinced they were all connected the longer he spent looking at the cold cases.

  His phone buzzed with the text—Nick’s address. Alex slid on his coat, put the phone in a pocket, and stuck his laptop in the case. He grabbed his keys from the desk and headed downstairs. His parents sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee, yet looking exhausted.

  “Going somewhere?” Dad rubbed his eyes.

  Meeting Fleshman never happened. He thought quickly for a cover story. “I’m meeting… a friend to look deeper into the cold cases.”

  “Didn’t the cops say that was a dead end?” Mom clung to her coffee mug.

  “They just don’t think there’s enough dots to connect yet. I know there are.”

  “Anything we can do?” Dad asked.

  Alex shrugged. “I appreciate you posting about it on your blog.”

  He frowned. “It reminds me of the early days, posting about Macy’s disappearance.”

  “It helped then,” Alex said. “I’m sure it’ll help now. I gotta run.”

  “Do you want to take my car?” Mom asked. “It’s probably more reliable.”

  “Mine’s fine.” Alex hurried outside and plugged Nick’s address into the ancient GPS unit. It wasn’t too far away. He planned what he would say to convince the captain as he drove—he didn’t want to forget a thing.

  Alex had to park a block and a half away from the entrance to Nick’s complex. He held the laptop case close and hurried to the condo, using the extra time to think more on what he would say to the captain.

  Nick answered, wearing a black Nirvana t-shirt and blue track pants. His brows came together as he stared at Alex’s face. “What happened to you?”

  “Some people didn’t want me at the candlelight vigil. I’m fine.”

  “Tell me you didn’t hit back.”

  “I didn’t. I hit first.”

  Nick swore. “We talked about this. You—”

  “We talked about not hitting the kidnapper. These people came after me. I was peacefully attending my daughter’s vigil.”

  “I hope so. Come on in.” Nick took a deep breath and stood back, allowing Alex inside.

  He stepped inside the mostly-bare entry. Everything was white—the walls, ceiling, the tile flooring. “Nice place.”

  “Wife got everything in the divorce.” He led him to the equally sparse living room and gestured toward a faded brown leather couch with mismatched throw pillows on each end. “Beer or pop? I also have instant coffee and energy drinks.”

  A beer sounded so good, especially after everything he’d been through in the last day. “Beer.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  Alex sat, sinking deeper into the couch than expected, while Nick grabbed a couple bottles from the fridge—the one thing decorated in the place. It was full of children’s drawings and paintings. Nick closed the door and pulled out a bag of chips from the pantry.

  He tossed Alex a bottle and then opened the chips, setting it on the scratched glass coffee table. “Whatcha got?” Nick grabbed a handful of chips.

  “First, what did those photo guys say?”

  “It was altered.” Nick twisted the cap off his beer. “Pretty obvious job. Nothing to worry about. Did you find anything new with the cold cases?”

  Alex set his laptop up on the coffee table and turned it on. “There are a lot of small similarities between the cases. I—”

  “Right. That’s why I gave you what I had.”

  “But there’s enough of them to make a difference.”

  “Yeah, but we need something big. The FBI looked into it, but they couldn’t find anything convincing. Now they have their attention elsewhere. The hotline is getting hundreds of leads every day. We need to convince them this is worth looking into, and they have me so busy with other stuff, I don’t have time.”

  Alex took a swig of his drink. “Not enough to look at Flynn or these cases?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I thought you were the one in charge of the case—that they’re only there to help you.”

  “True, but they’re not going to waste any time or resources looking into anything they don’t believe to be valuable. Especially not the ones they sent this time. If it’s not airtight, they don’t want to hear about it.”

  Alex groaned. “They’re idiots.�
�

  “No comment.”

  Alex laughed, nearly snorting his beer out his nose. “So, you agree with me?”

  “Of course I do. Like I said, show me what you’ve got.”

  “Gladly.” He brought the laptop to his knees and opened up his notes file. “It’s a lot more than just lakes with an island. They’re all small and have a dock.”

  Nick arched a brow.

  “They’re not usually located all that close to where the girls were taken. And here’s something interesting.” Alex pulled up the map he’d been working on. “If you draw a line from each lake, they’re all about equal distance from this town.”

  “Let me see that.” Nick grabbed the laptop and zoomed in on the picture. It showed one of the richer parts of town. He swore.

  “What?” Alex exclaimed.

  “That’s Flynn’s neighborhood. Actually, that’s almost right on top of his house.”

  They stared at each other, both wide-eyed.

  “Is that enough to convince the FBI to look into it? I’m starting to run out of ideas, actually.”

  “I don’t know, but it’s enough for me to at least try. How did you think to try that?”

  Alex shrugged. “I was measuring the distances between the lakes, and accidentally figured it out.”

  Nick swore again. “Show me everything. Don’t leave out a detail.”

  They spent the next two hours going over everything Alex and Macy had found. Finally, neither one of them could keep their eyes open.

  “Want to crash on the couch?”

  Alex could feel the bottom of the couch through the cushion. “No, but thanks. I’ll just head back to my parents’ house.”

  “At least let me get you an energy drink. Email all that to me real quick.”

  “Sure.” Alex send him everything as an attachment. As soon as he was done, Nick handed him a black and orange can.

  “This’ll keep you awake.”

  Alex glanced at the ingredient list. “Sure it won’t give me a heart attack, too?”

  “It’s not supposed to.”

  “Great.” Alex opened it and drank it down as fast as he could. His body started to vibrate almost immediately. “This stuff is crazy.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m going to the station with this first thing in the morning.”

  “Not now?”

  Nick shook his head. “The FBI agents aren’t there now, anyway, and this isn’t something urgent enough that I can wake them.”

  “It’s not? It gives more reason to suspect the kidnapper actually did it.”

  “Trust me. Get some sleep.”

  After the energy drink? Right. “Okay. See ya.” Alex made his way back to his car and started it. At least Nick was now willing to show everything to the FBI. If they actually looked into it, they would probably put the guy behind bars and then find Ariana. At least there was still time before Halloween—the day he killed his victims.

  Alex’s blood ran cold.

  Just as he was about to pull out of the spot, his phone buzzed.

  Had he left something in the condo? Or had Nick figured something else out?

  It was a text from a blocked number.

  I told you to leave it alone. You didn’t listen.

  Stress

  Kellen helped Zoey onto her couch and covered her with a blanket. She hadn’t said a word since speaking at the conference. He’d ended up turning up the music just to distract himself as he drove.

  “Can I get you something, Zoey?”

  She barely shook her head and continued staring at a blank wall.

  He sat next to her and pulled some of the blanket over himself. “You did really well tonight.”

  Zoey shook her head again.

  “That was a really moving speech. I’ll bet people will do more to help find Ariana.”

  She sighed, still staring ahead.

  Sharp pains started at Kellen’s temples and ran to the base of his skull. He took a deep breath and rubbed his neck.

  “If I’m bothering you, you don’t have to stay.”

  “It’s not that. I have a headache.”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” Her voice was flat, but she’d managed a joke. The Zoey he loved and adored was fighting to come out.

  Kellen put his arm around her. “We’re going to get through this.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re strong and so is Ari. She’s going to fight, and you’re going to make sure we find her.”

  Zoey leaned her head against his arm. “I hope you’re right. I completely blew it out there.”

  “No, you were real. Everyone could feel your pain.”

  “I never have trouble talking in front of a crowd. I thought I was going to die up there.”

  “Give yourself a break. You’re living every parent’s worst nightmare.”

  She turned to him. “What if we don’t find her?”

  “We will.”

  “What if we don’t?” Zoey repeated, starting at him with an intensity that made him want to back away.

  “Keep looking. Never give up. Isn’t that what you did when Macy was gone so long?”

  “What if we find her, but she’s dead or seriously maimed?”

  “First of all, you can’t think like that.”

  Zoey’s brows came together. “You can’t tell me what to think.”

  Kellen sucked in a deep breath and counted to ten. Then twenty. “Well, it won’t do you any good.”

  “And thinking fluffy thoughts will if she’s in a ditch somewhere?”

  “You can’t—it will make it hard for you to get through each day if that’s what you’re imagining.”

  “But if it’s the truth, what does it matter?”

  Kellen counted again. This was good practice in case he ever ended up on trial. “What do you think Ari would want you to be doing?”

  She gave him a double-take. “What?”

  “Ariana loves you. Do you think she wants you to be miserable and negative?”

  “Do you think she wants me to throw a party?” Zoey snapped.

  Kellen took another deep breath. He was running out of methods to calm himself. “That’s not what I said, and you know it. She’s a positive, upbeat kid. She’d want you to hold out hope.”

  “We’re almost at the forty-eight hour mark.”

  “It’s barely been twenty-four hours.”

  “And we’re no closer to finding her than we were last night!”

  “We don’t know that,” Kellen said. “You may have planted a seed of doubt in the kidnapper’s mind. Maybe right now he’s thinking about the possibility of returning her?”

  Zoey opened her mouth, but then closed it.

  “Maybe we should get some sleep.”

  “You think I’m going to be able to sleep?” she exclaimed.

  “Yes. You’re exhausted, and we’ll be able to do more tomorrow if we’re rested.”

  The corners of her mouth curved down. She seemed to be trying to figure out a good comeback. “Do you want her living with us after we get married?”

  Kellen’s headache intensified. “Why are you bringing this up now?”

  “Do you want her to live with us?” Zoey sat up straight.

  “Can we talk about this after she’s back safe and sound?” Kellen removed his arm from around her shoulders.

  “You said we need to think positively, right? When she comes back and we get married, do you want her living with us?”

  “Why are you doing this, Zo?”

  “Because you need to explain that expression on your face when I brought it up.”

  “I was surprised because it was the first I’d heard anything about it! You didn’t give me the respect of even giving me a heads up, much less asking my opinion.”

  “So, you don’t want her to live with us?” Zoey accused.

  “Why the hell are you trying to trap me? I never said that.”

  “Then say you want her to l
ive with us. It’s not that hard.”

  “You could have at least given me a warning that you were thinking about it, you know? When we first got together, you told me you had a daughter, but that you’d given up all rights. It quickly became clear how much she means to you and that you two are close, and that’s great. I’m sure you both need it. But never once have you mentioned even the possibility of splitting custody—which by the way, if you want to discuss shocked faces, your parents seemed just as taken aback as I was.”

  “So, you don’t want her living with us.”

  Kellen jumped up from the couch. “Give me some time to let the idea sink in! It’s common decency. You’re changing everything and not giving me two seconds to digest the idea. You couldn’t even give me the courtesy of talking to me privately first.”

  She folded her arms. “At least I know how you feel.”

  “You have no idea! I don’t even know what I want. I’m sure I’d be excited by the idea if you’d have given me ten minutes to let it sink in first.”

  “You think you’d be excited?” Zoey arched a brow.

  “At this point, I’d be thrilled just to have her back safely. I’d raise her all by myself if it came down to that. But, honestly, it’s our relationship that I have to question.”

  Her mouth dropped.

  “That’s right. How can I trust you after pulling that stunt? What makes me think you won’t blindside me with something else equally important? It’s obvious how poorly you actually think of me.”

  “Now you’re turning me into the bad guy?”

  “Did I say that?” Kellen exclaimed.

  “That’s what it sounds like.”

  He threw his arms in the air. “I can’t take this. I’ve been questioned by the FBI—interrogated, really—and I’ve always done everything to support your relationship with Ari. And now when everything hits the fan, this is the thanks I get?”

  “Hold on.” Zoey rose from the couch, too. “It’s not like that.”

  “It’s exactly like that. And another thing, I saw the way you were looking at Alex at the party. I tried to ignore it. Deny it, actually. But now I can’t.”

  “What are you talking about?” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t looking at Alex any way, besides irritated.”