by James Hunt
When Kerry and Jim arrived at the convention center, most of the crowds had dispersed. Kerry pulled the cruiser to the backside of the convention center where the uniforms still had the area cordoned off and the forensic team was wrapping up their findings. Kerry parked, and Jim hurried out of the vehicle to catch them.
“Find anything?” Jim asked.
One of the techs looked up, realizing Jim was talking to him, and then he shrugged. “There was a lot to comb through. It’ll really be up to the system to see if we have a DNA match.”
The database the tech referred to was used by law enforcement officials across the country. If a perp had been caught, then they had a sample of their DNA, and it would ring as a match. It was incredibly useful in a case, but if there was no match, that meant their abductor was off the radar. And they were dealing with someone smart enough not to have been caught.
For now.
“Everything you found here is a priority for analysis at the lab, okay?” Jim asked. “You can confirm with your superiors if you need to. It’s already been approved by the deputy chief.”
“Sure,” the tech said, and then he turned and headed for the van with the rest of the team.
Kerry caught up to Jim, finishing the rest of her breakfast biscuit, and then tossed the wrapper into the trash. “God, those things are good. Where’s the security team?”
“I don’t know,” Jim answered. “They said they’d meet us out front.”
Jim was about to head toward the nearest entrance when two men dressed in suits with lanyards around their necks moved swiftly toward them.
“Detectives North and Martin?” the lead security member asked. He was tall, six and a half feet, lean but well-muscled. He had a thick head of hair and a prominent brow that made him look menacing.
“That’s us,” Jim answered.
“I’m Marty Fisher, and this is my colleague, Sharon,” Marty said, with Sharon nodding curtly behind them. “We’ve just finished compiling all of the videos, and there are some items we need to fill you in on.” He stepped toward the door, gesturing for Jim and Kerry to follow. “If you’ll come with me.”
Jim appreciated how Marty didn’t waste any time. They followed the security team inside and were led to a hallway that intertwined behind the convention halls. Through these walls, Jim and Kerry heard the speakers interacting with the crowds at the events.
“You’re still holding the event?” Kerry asked.
“We believe the abduction earlier was an isolated event,” Marty said.
“What about the other guests?” Jim asked. “Are the attendees worried there will be another incident?”
“A lot of the crowd did leave,” Marty answered. “But there were still people here who wanted to see their shows.”
“Entertainment over safety,” Kerry said. “Why am I not surprised?”
When they reached the security room, it wasn’t the high-tech mecca Jim was expecting. There were only two computers and four desks.
No screens mounted on the walls with live security feed coming from the cameras on the property, no loud radio systems with constant communication from the rest of the team scattered about the convention center, just a dull, cramped room with a coffee maker that looked like it was from the eighties.
“We don’t have a lot of space, so mind your elbows,” Marty said, and he took a seat behind one of the desks with a computer. “I’ve already sent the video you requested to your cyber team, along with the list of attendees to the convention, but I wanted to show you something we found on one of the cameras outside.”
Jim and Kerry stood on either side of Marty, their backs pressed against the wall as they studied the screen.
“This was the protest that was happening at the front of the convention center,” Marty said. “You can see the fence we had set up to keep them in their area.”
“Did they have permits?” Jim asked, looking for Jamison Kent in the crowd.
“Yes,” Marty answered. “But look at what happens when I fast forward to… here.” He paused on a section of video and then saw as the barricade collapsed. “You see that?”
Jim and Kerry shrugged. “Yeah, but what am I looking at?”
“That barricade was tampered with,” Marty answered.
“Tampered with, how?” Jim asked.
“We don’t know,” Marty answered. “But there is a section of security footage missing from earlier this morning. So not only did someone tamper with the barricade, but they also accessed our security system during the blackout, which opened our locks for the emergency and allowed the protestors to get inside the building.”
“So you’re saying that someone from your team was involved?” Kerry asked.
“That’s why I wanted you to come in here,” Marty answered, and then he reached for a personnel file on his desk. “We recently fired one of our employees. He had developed an inappropriate relationship with a volunteer member.”
“Inappropriate how?” Jim asked.
“She was seventeen,” Marty answered. “We reported it to the authorities, but the girl’s parents didn’t want to press charges and have it become a thing. The girl was insistent that nothing happened, but we had video footage of the two being… rather close and intimate.” He shook his head and waved his hand. “It was more poor judgment by the employee, but we just wanted to be extra careful.”
“And you think this ex-employee was behind sabotaging the security for Ricky Teller?” Jim asked.
“It’s an avenue worth exploring because the rest of my guys have airtight alibies,” Marty answered. “Which they confirmed with your officers this morning who arrived on scene.” He handed Jim the file. “This is a copy of his employee file.”
Jim took the file and flipped open the page. “Looks like we’ll be paying a visit to Ben Turner.” He closed the file. “What about finding any phones on the scene?”
“Phones?” Marty asked.
“Yes, mobile phones that might have been found after the crowds cleared out,” Jim said.
Marty glanced at his colleagues. “Where’s the lost and found bin?”
The “bin” turned out to be several bins, and Jim and Kerry started sifting through all the lost items.
“We keep items for a month and then donate them,” Marty said. “If you’re looking for anything that was lost today, it’ll still be inside.”
Both Jim and Kerry knew what they were looking for, and they quickly sifted through the bins. They set aside sunglasses, cups, belts, shoes and sandals, shirts and pants, but as they neared the last box, Jim wasn’t sure if they’d find anything.
“Jim,” Kerry said, reaching into her bin. When she pulled out the silver smartphone, it was an exact replica of the ones the Broker had sent, and it confirmed for Jim who they were dealing with.
The Broker had orchestrated the abduction of another child.
8
Once Jim and Kerry left the convention center, Jim studied the phone the Broker had given Ricky Teller. He didn’t dare try to turn it on, lest it shut down on him. He simply stared at it, knowing what was inside was another opportunity to unlock the Broker’s identity.
“Unit twenty-two, come in,” Dispatch said.
Jim set down the phone and then reached for the radio. “Go for unit twenty-two.”
“Uniforms have brought Jamison Kent in for questioning,” Dispatch said.
“Copy, on our way back to the Five now,” Jim said.
“You think Jamison contacted the Broker?” Kerry asked.
Jim turned the phone over in his hands. “If he did, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
When Jim and Kerry returned to the precinct, they took a few minutes to speak with the officers who’d brought him in.
“The guy wouldn’t shut up,” Officer Rodriguez said. “Kept going on and on about how the system isn’t fair and how it needs to be overhauled.”
“Was he physical?” Jim asked.
“No, but the way he was
assaulting my ears, he might as well have been,” Rodriguez answered.
“Did he mention anything noteworthy during this assault?” Kerry asked, unable to hide the smirk.
Rodriguez groaned. “I mean, I don’t know. I sort of tuned him out. He definitely wasn’t a fan of what was happening at the convention center. That was for sure.”
“Thanks, Rodriguez,” Jim said. “We’ll take it from here.”
Jim and Kerry saw Jamison from the monitors of the interrogation room. He was there alone, arms crossed and pissed off. He reminded Jim of some of the rich white kids who get brought in for questioning who think they’re too good to be wasting their time in a place like this.
“I’m surprised he hasn’t asked for counsel,” Kerry said.
“He’s arrogant,” Jim replied. “He doesn’t think he did anything wrong.”
“Well, maybe he didn’t,” Kerry said.
Jim gestured to the paper in his hand, which had all of the comments Jamison had made on Ricky Teller’s YouTube channel. The parents caught them before they were posted, and he read them from the paper.
“Stop prostituting your child to the masses,” Jim said. “The only thing worse than child porn is a child forced to make videos against his will. Why do you keep putting your child in situations where he’s begging for it?”
“Yeah, okay, so he’s an idiot,” Kerry answered. “But idiocy isn’t a crime.”
“What did you find on his rap sheet?” Jim asked.
Kerry opened the file she had created, and it was surprisingly thin, which Jim didn’t think boded well for their situation.
“Most of the stuff he went through was just drunk and disorderly,” Kerry said. “But that was when he was a teenager. He remained off the radar for about a decade before he popped back up again three years ago when a couple in Arizona filed a restraining order against him for continuing to pester their family.”
“I’m guessing that was the start of Jamison’s crusade to rid the world of child actors?” Jim asked.
“Yeah,” Kerry answered. “The family had a little girl who was auditioning for a television pilot, and for some reason, Jamison locked onto her as his noble cause. Nothing violent, just a lot of stalking.”
“Stalking is rarely non-violent,” Jim said. “At least not for long.”
Jim and Kerry always preferred to be prepared when they stepped into the interrogation room, so they took a moment to perform their due diligence on Jamison Kent.
In addition to the stalking and drunken disorderly, they discovered the former child star had a history of drug addiction, which he’d struggled with since his days in the spotlight.
Alcohol, cocaine, marijuana, anything and everything that could be drunk, snorted, or consumed had run through Kent’s body over the past two decades. His picture was plastered on the cover of tabloids during the middle of a bender with a juicy headline to capture the reader’s attention.
“He’s far from a model citizen,” Kerry said.
Jim took a deep breath and then nodded to Kerry. “All right. Let’s see what he has to say.”
The moment Jim and Kerry entered the interrogation room, Jamison Kent flapped his arms at his side, irritated.
“Do you mind telling me what the hell I’m doing here?” Jamison asked.
“Mr. Kent, my name is Detective Jim North, and this is my partner, Detective Martin,” Jim answered and then took a seat at the table. “We need to speak with you about the incident at the convention center.”
“It wasn’t an incident,” Jamison said, and then he smiled. “It was a liberation.”
“You do realize that boy was abducted, right?” Kerry asked.
“At least he’s not with his parents to be exploited, being pushed in front of millions of eyes that just want to tear him apart,” Jamison said. “That’s the real crime!”
Jim restrained himself not to lash out, but he could already tell that this conversation was going to be difficult, especially with the lack of sleep. “So you’re not upset that a child was abducted from his family?”
Jamison backtracked a little when he looked at the camera in the room, realizing he was being recorded. “Of course, that’s horrible. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you find him. But I already told the police what I saw.”
“Yes, we read your statement,” Jim said, opening the file. “You said you saw Ricky Teller exit the building and then led your mob—”
“We aren’t a mob. We were protesting the capitalist exploitation of our country’s children,” Jamison said.
“Right,” Jim said, and he cleared his throat and continued reading. “You led your ‘group’ toward Ricky Teller and his parents for a confrontation.” He dropped the paper. “What did you hope to gain from this confrontation?”
“I was hoping I would be able to convince the parents that what they were doing was wrong!” Jamison said. “Do you have any idea how detrimental it is for children to be in the public eye the way child actors are? They don’t have a real childhood; they can’t grow and develop, every mistake and awkward moment that should be happening at school or on the playground happens in the public eye. Instead, they’re dragged through the mud.”
“Like you were?” Kerry asked.
Jamison sat back, becoming defensive again. “Yeah, like I was.” He drummed his fingers on the table, calming down a little bit. “What I went through… What a lot of child stars go through is reprehensible. I was abused. Exploited. Overworked. And to top it all off, every penny I made during my brief moment in the spotlight was squandered by my family. And then, when I wasn’t the ‘cute kid’ anymore, I wasn’t any use to Hollywood executives and was cast aside. I went through some very, very dark moments in my life, and I can trace all of my terrible, horrible adult decisions to my acting career. And I’ll be damned if I let what happened to me happen to any other child in the industry.”
“But Ricky isn’t in the industry,” Jim said. “Not the same one you were in.”
“No, he’s not,” Jamison said, and then he leaned forward. “He’s in something far worse. At the very least, I had a contract that I had to work with that gave me some rights. These kids making YouTube videos or other content on social media platforms? They don’t have any contracts, and they’re caught up in his horrible cycle of wanting approval from people who can never truly fill that hole that grows wider inside of them every time they do something to try to get more likes, or clicks, or shares, or whatever other bullshit the big tech companies are pushing. It’s disgusting.”
“And what makes your tactics any different than the ‘industry’ that you claim to be fighting against?” Jim asked, and then he removed the police report for the restraining order in Arizona. “Because it seems to me that stalking a child and her family is exactly the kind of trauma you went through as a kid.”
Jamison raised his hands. “Hold on. That was taken out of context, okay? I was a little overzealous in the beginning, yes, but that’s because I was passionate about my mission.”
“Passionate enough to sneak into the family’s home when they were asleep at night,” Kerry said.
Jamison clenched his jaw and tensed. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, his laser-set gaze on Jim and Kerry.
Looking at him now, Jim could only see traces of the kid he remembered seeing on the television. He hadn’t watched much TV when he was growing up, but he did remember the show Jamison was on.
“You were pretty good,” Jim said, changing tactics. “On the show.”
The comment threw Jamison off guard, and he lowered his defenses a little. “Oh, yeah, well, thanks.” He cleared his throat.
Jim leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “A part of you must have liked it, right? The fame? The notoriety? I’m sure it came with some perks?”
Jamison struggled not to smile. “No, I mean, it was bad, but it wasn’t all bad.”
Jim nodded, trying to goad Jamison into a false sense of security. “I bet a part o
f you even misses it. Just a little part.”
“Maybe a little,” Jamison said, finally smiling.
“I bet you’re even a little jealous of some of these kids,” Jim said. “I mean, they have more control these days, right? They can almost, almost, be their own boss. Control their own content, interact directly with fans; I bet if you were a kid today, you would have cleaned up.” He leaned forward. “And I bet you would have been able to keep all of your money.”
“I know,” Jamison said as if he had been thinking about that for a while now. “I mean, I would have been a force to be reckoned with.”
“I’m sure you would have,” Jim said, and then he switched gears now that Jamison had his defenses completely lowered. “Is that why you took Ricky Teller?”
The blood rushed from Jamison’s face, and he went stark white. “What?”
Jim pounced, rushing into attack mode as he removed the comments that Jamison had made on Ricky Teller’s YouTube page. “We have over one hundred comments that you tried to leave under various account names, but all of them have been traced back to an IP address located in your personal home,” Jim said.
Jamison stuttered over his own words. “I don’t– What– No!”
“You organized a protest against this boy, whom you’ve attacked online—”
“I didn’t attack him! I was simply pointing out that he was being used!”
“—And now that boy is missing,” Jim said, rising to meet Jamison’s outrage and putting the man in his place. “None of this paints a flattering picture about you, Jamison. And right now, you are suspect number one in Ricky Teller’s abduction.”
“This is insane!” Jamison said. “I’m trying to help these kids, not hurt them.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” Kerry said.
“Oh, and what the hell would you know about what I’m trying to do?” Jamison said. “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what these kids go through.”
“I know that they are constantly judged from every angle,” Kerry said. “Even ordinary kids. They’re judged in real life at school and public places, and then they go home, a place that’s supposed to be safe, and they get online where they’re judged again. And you’re insane if you think starting a protest outside of a seven-year-old kid’s venue isn’t going to give him some kind of a complex.”
