by James Swain
He looked up to see Karl next to the chimney holding a pair of binoculars and watching the Intracoastal for trouble. He hadn’t seen Karl when he’d pulled in, but that was no surprise. Karl, Mike, and Carlo were ex-SEALs and were adept at blending in to whatever environment they inhabited. Their main business was protecting celebrities and politicians who came to town. Lancaster had served with them and now had an arrangement where they’d help him out if they had downtime, and vice versa.
He got out of the car. “I’m not going to be long. Are you guys still good with staying the night and watching the place?”
“Absolutely. Our calendar’s wide open right now,” Carlo said. “Can I ask you something? The wife invited us in earlier and served us iced tea. The husband and kid were there. The family seems totally normal and down to earth. Who’s after them?”
“Someone’s after the kid. A whole bunch of people, actually.”
“What did she do?”
“I don’t know. And neither do her parents.”
“She’s innocent?”
That was a good question. Deep down in his heart he wanted to believe that Nicki was as pure as a freshly fallen snow, only there was a nagging feeling in his gut that wouldn’t go away. Her stalkers were obsessed with images on their cell phones, which he’d come to realize were of her. It was the only logical answer to what was going on. But what did the images show, and where had they come from? Carlo’s cell phone vibrated, saving him from replying.
Carlo had a brief conversation and put his phone away. “Mike just spotted a suspicious-looking boat trolling past the house. I need to go have a look.”
“Talk to you later,” Lancaster said. As Carlo disappeared into the hedge, Lancaster walked up to the front door to ring the chime. The door opened, and Nolan Pearl ushered him in with an expectant air.
“Hello, Jon. How did your trip to Delray go?” Pearl asked.
“It was a home run,” he said. “I talked to the ex-girlfriend of our stalker from the Cheesecake Factory. She gave me the link that ties Nicki’s stalkers together.”
“That’s good news. Can you tell me what the link is?”
“Nicki’s stalkers are sexual deviants who fantasize about young girls. Part of their fantasy is looking at images of girls on their cell phones. I need to ask Nicki some questions. I’d like you and your wife to be in the room when I do.”
Pearl blinked. The words sunk in, and he took a moment to compose himself. “Do you think there are images of Nicki on these men’s phones?”
“I’m afraid the answer is yes.”
“But where did they come from?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“You don’t think Nicki is posting photographs online, do you?”
“I don’t know who’s behind it. It could be one of her friends or a classmate at school. Or it could be a stranger who’s fixated on her. I only know one thing for sure: there are photographs of Nicki that are being circulated on the web, and her stalkers are fantasizing over them when they’re pursuing her. That’s the link.”
“Oh my God,” Pearl said.
Nicki was at her father’s desk on her laptop when they entered the study. Melanie sat on the couch, engrossed in her cell phone. The German shepherd sprang to life from the floor, and in atonement for past mistakes, curled its upper lip.
“Jon needs to speak with us,” Pearl said.
Nicki closed her laptop, came around the desk, and quieted the dog. “You made a breakthrough, didn’t you? I can see it in your face.”
Nicki was a smart kid, there was no question about that. But was she as innocent as she acted? Or was she hiding a dark secret from her parents? He didn’t know her well enough to know the right answer. He sat on the free end of the couch so he faced her.
Pearl pulled up a chair while Nicki remained standing.
“I did make a breakthrough this afternoon,” he said. “I’m going to tell you and your parents what I learned. In return for my doing that, you need to answer some questions for me, and be totally honest with your answers. Do we have a deal?”
“Sure,” the teenager said.
“Good. Here’s what I learned. Your stalkers share one thing in common. Each is holding a cell phone when they’re following you. That’s because the stalker is fantasizing over photographs of you that are stored on his phone. I want to know where those photographs came from and who posted them on the internet. Do you know?”
Nicki’s mouth dropped open but no words came out.
“Honey?” her mother said.
Still nothing. A long, excruciating moment passed.
“Nicki, answer Jon’s question,” her father said.
“It must have been Tyler Steeves,” the teenager said quietly.
The parents exchanged worried looks. The name was new to them. Lancaster put his hands on his knees and leaned forward. “Is Tyler your boyfriend?”
“Not really. We haven’t gone on a date or anything.”
“Do you like him?”
“I guess. He’s pretty cute.”
“How did you meet him?”
“Tyler goes to Pine Crest, he’s a grade ahead of me. We met during the school musical. It was called Once Upon a Mattress. I played Princess Winnifred.”
“Was Tyler also in the play?”
“Tyler was a cameraman with the AV crew. Our school’s drama coach, Mr. Rossi, filmed our rehearsals so he could critique us.”
Tyler had a video camera, and Nicki appeared to have a crush on him. That was a recipe for disaster. He thought he knew what had happened, but needed to hear it in Nicki’s own words.
“Did Tyler film you in private?” he asked.
“Just once,” she said.
Her parents turned to stone. This was bad. He lowered his voice and pretended they weren’t in the room. “Was this Tyler’s idea?”
“Yeah. He thought it would be fun.”
“Tell me what he filmed.”
“There’s a scene in the play where I sing a song while lying on a bunch of mattresses in my pajamas. One night after everyone else had left, Tyler talked me into singing the song wearing a bra and my underwear so he could video it. We watched it later and both giggled. He promised to erase it, but he didn’t.”
“He posted the film on the internet, didn’t he?”
“Yeah.”
“Which site?”
“YouTube.”
YouTube was the largest site in the world for video consumption. This was getting worse, and he said, “How did you find out what Tyler had done?”
“One day in the cafeteria, he showed me the video on his cell phone. He said he’d gotten ten thousand hits. I freaked out and begged him to take it down.”
“Did he?”
“Not right away.”
“How long before he took it down?”
“It took him a couple of days.”
“Why didn’t Tyler do it right away?”
“Tyler wants to direct movies. He’s got his own channel on YouTube where he posts videos that he makes. Something like a dozen movie producers contacted him after seeing my video, and offered him work. Tyler was afraid that if he took the video down, he wouldn’t get any more offers.”
“But he did take it down.”
“Yeah, finally.”
“Do you know if Tyler had any further contact with these movie people?”
“He exchanged emails with a man named Sydney who worked at a big studio and also talked to him on the phone. Sydney said he could get Tyler a job on a movie he was making this summer. Sydney also wanted to contact me and offer me a part.”
“Did you talk to Sydney?”
“He sent me an email. I didn’t reply.”
“Did Tyler give Sydney your email address?”
“I guess he must have.”
“Do you think Tyler gave Sydney other information about you?”
“Probably. Sydney knew a lot about me, like where I went to school, and what gra
de I was in. It was icky. Tyler must have told him.”
The puzzle no longer had as many missing pieces. An alluring video of Nicki on the internet had attracted the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of people.
“You said Tyler and Sydney talked to each other over the phone,” he said. “Do you know if they ever met?”
“The meeting never happened,” Nicki said. “Tyler told me that Sydney wanted to fly to Fort Lauderdale and take us out to lunch. When Tyler told him that I wasn’t interested, Sydney backed out. Tyler wasn’t happy.”
“Did Tyler pressure you to meet with Sydney after that?”
“He asked me a few times, but I said no.”
“That was very smart of you. It sounds like Sydney was more interested in meeting you than Tyler.”
“You’re probably right. I thought the whole thing was a put-on.”
“Why did you think that?”
“Because Tyler’s videos aren’t very good. You should see the comments that viewers post on YouTube. Most of them are awful.”
“But your video got ten thousand hits. How do you explain that?”
“I can’t.” She shrugged her shoulders.
Something wasn’t adding up. A rank high school kid didn’t get ten thousand hits on YouTube unless he had talent or was posting porn. Nicki claimed she was wearing underwear in the video, but Lancaster knew that could be a lie because her parents were in the room. Maybe she’d been naked.
“Do you have a copy of the video that we can see?”
Embarrassed, Nicki nodded. “It’s pretty bad.”
“I’d still like to see it. This is for your benefit, Nicki. I’m pretty sure that video is tied to these men who are stalking you. Seeing it will help me confirm that.”
She looked to her mother and father. “Do you want to see it too?”
“Yes,” Melanie said. “Now go get it, honey.”
Nicki retrieved her laptop and sat on the couch sandwiched between her parents. She typed in a command, Windows Media Player appeared, and a video started to play. She placed the laptop on the glass coffee table so everyone could watch.
“Don’t laugh,” the teenager said.
The three adults in the room watched intently. On the small screen, Nicki lay atop a pile of mattresses wearing a white bra and pink panties. It could have been a sexy pose, only she looked terribly self-conscious. The look on her face suggested that she knew this was a bad decision but had gone along with it anyway. She started to sing, and it didn’t get any better. Her voice was pleasant but nothing to write home about. The image of the uncomfortable teenager did not change.
The song ended, and the screen went dark. On a scale of one to ten, Lancaster gave it a two for effort. It had little to recommend it, yet somehow it had garnered a large audience. But of who? What type of viewer wanted to watch an embarrassed teenage girl mangle an old song in her underwear?
Nicki climbed into her father’s lap and buried her head into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you.”
Pearl walked him outside to his car. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Your daughter’s no sex kitten,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“She’s not sexy in that video. So why so many hits? And why did some pervert pretending to be a movie producer contact Tyler and try to arrange a lunch so he could meet her?”
“You think that man used Tyler to try to get to Nicki?”
“He sure did. Perverts stalk teenage girls on the internet all the time. The stories they invent to get close to their victims boggle the imagination. The problem is, Nicki is anything but sexy in that video. So why all the attention?”
“Maybe it was a fluke.”
“YouTube doesn’t work like that. If a video doesn’t hook a viewer in a few seconds, they click away. I should know, there’s a video of me that’s gotten half a million hits. I did some research on why videos go viral. It’s never a fluke.”
Pearl looked confused. “Then what are you saying?”
“I’m asking you, is this the tip of the iceberg? Has Nicki done other videos with Tyler Steeves that she won’t tell us about? Is that in her makeup?”
“No. Nicki wouldn’t do that,” Pearl said, raising his voice.
“You’re sure about this,” Lancaster said.
“I’m one hundred percent sure,” Pearl said. “Nicki has never caused a problem. We couldn’t have asked for a better child to raise, and that’s saying a lot these days.”
“You’ve had no issues with her?”
“None.”
“How about disagreements?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m looking for a reason why Nicki might become angry with you, and do something stupid that would lead to the situation we have right now.”
Pearl gave it some thought. “Well, she did ask us if she could take horseback riding lessons. I said no, and she got angry. I’ve seen too many young girls become paralyzed after taking nasty spills. It’s a dangerous sport.”
“How long was she upset at you?”
“A few days. She got over it.”
Or maybe Pearl had misread the situation and Nicki hadn’t gotten over it. Her bedroom walls were covered with horse photos. Did they act as reminders of her father’s refusal to let her sit on a horse? He took out his car keys.
“You and your wife need to sit down and talk to her about it,” he said. “I’m going to pay Zack Kenny a visit. I’ll call you if I learn anything.”
“Do you think I’m wrong about my daughter?” Pearl asked.
“Maybe,” he said.
CHAPTER 16
PROMISED LAND
The DMV information that Devon had provided to Lancaster included the address of the luxury apartment building where Zack Kenny lived. It was called Sunrise Harbor and was located in the community of Coral Ridge, a few short blocks from the ocean.
Sunrise Harbor was on the high end of the rental experience and had its own parking area with a small guardhouse equipped with multiple surveillance cameras. Lancaster flashed his old cop badge to the uniformed guard when asked for ID.
“Is there a problem?” the guard asked.
Telling the guard his business was a risk. If he was chummy with Kenny, he might alert him that there was trouble brewing. Or, the guard might be helpful, and share valuable information. His uniform was wrinkle-free and proudly worn. It made Lancaster think he was ex-military and could be trusted.
“A tenant named Zack Kenny,” he said.
The guard let out a whistle. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Is he a troublemaker?”
The guard put his hand on the roof of Lancaster’s car and lowered his voice. “Zack had a runaway living with him. Girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. His neighbor blew the whistle, and it caused a real stink.”
“Did the police get involved?”
“It didn’t get that far. The renters’ association runs the building with an iron fist. They had a meeting in the community room and a hundred and fifty people showed up. Zack came with his attorney and claimed that he was helping the kid out. Nobody believed him. He was told to get rid of the girl or face eviction. He put up a fight but finally agreed, and the runaway moved out.”
“Has he caused any other problems?”
“No, but it’s only a matter of time. I know his kind.”
“Which is what?”
“He’s a perv.”
“You were a cop once, weren’t you?”
“Military Police.”
“What makes you think he wasn’t helping the kid out?”
“This place is loaded with beautiful unmarried women. You should see the pool on the weekends. It’s enough to make you drool. Zack could have his pick, only he doesn’t want that. He’s into little girls, the sick bastard.”
“Is he here now?”
“Hasn’t come home yet. You going to arrest
him?”
“I just want to talk to him. Do you mind if I wait inside?”
“Be my guest. Park in one of the visitor spots or someone will raise a stink.”
“Will do. Thanks for the help.”
The guard went inside the guardhouse and made the guardrail rise. Lancaster drove inside the complex, parked, and kept the engine running and basked in the AC. Back during his cop days he’d been offered a desk in the sex crimes unit but had declined out of fear of what he’d do if he caught a suspect harming a kid. Zack Kenny was bringing out the same kind of raw emotions, and he tried to stay focused on the job he’d been hired to do. He needed to get his hands on Kenny’s cell phone and look at the images of Nicki Pearl stored in its memory. His gut was telling him there was more than the video of Nicki singing while lying atop a pile of mattresses.
To pass the time, he did a Google search on his cell phone and was soon reading Kenny’s work profile on LinkedIn. He’d been employed as a securities broker with the same firm for eight years and recently been promoted to vice president. He had a solid work history and a decent education. He didn’t think Kenny’s employer knew about the restraining order or the problems with his apartment association, which told him that Kenny was doing a good job of keeping his personal life hidden. During the day he was a respectable businessman, but at night he was a creep.
A familiar black Lexus parked three spaces down. Lancaster killed his engine and hopped out of his vehicle. He was going to confront Kenny and take his cell phone once Kenny got out of his expensive sports car. Nicki’s stalkers were slaves to their phones, and he was determined to find out why.
But Kenny didn’t get out of his car. Instead, he remained behind the wheel with his head bowed. Either he was taking a nap, or he was looking at his phone. Lancaster silently came up behind the Lexus and stared through the driver’s window at the cell phone in Kenny’s lap. A video was playing with fuzzy images dancing on the screen.
Kenny’s head turned. He flipped the cell phone over, hiding the screen. Lancaster placed his cop badge against the glass.
“Get out of the car.”
Kenny shook his head.
“Get out of the car before I drag you out.”
Kenny blinked. Decision time. He lifted the cell phone off his lap and ripped off its rubber protective cover. Then he slammed the cell phone’s screen violently against the dashboard with all his might. He did this so many times that it must have made his arm hurt. But he wasn’t done. Throwing open his door, he leaped out of the car and threw the cell phone against the pavement, picked it up, and gave it a mighty heave over a hedge that separated the complex from its neighbor. A triumphant look spread across his face, and he turned around and walked away. Lancaster followed him.
