Keep Going
Copyright© 2026 by Trevor Dohlen
Chapter 8: Missing
For the first three months, nobody called Daniel missing.
He was simply Daniel.
Daniel traveled.
Daniel ignored email.
Daniel forgot appointments.
Daniel used VPNs.
Daniel occasionally vanished into parts of the world that had questionable coffee and excellent scenery.
Daniel always came back.
So when Margaret emailed him about a trust amendment and received no reply, she waited.
When Leonard sent a tax question and received no reply, he copied Margaret.
When Michael called and reached voicemail, he rolled his eyes and sent a text.
CALL YOUR SON.
Mercer sent Daniel the usual reminder.
No response.
Nothing about that was unusual.
Not yet.
At forty-five days, Michael called Mercer.
The familiar face appeared on his laptop.
“Good afternoon, Michael.”
“When did you last hear from Dad?”
Mercer answered immediately.
“Daniel’s last authenticated interactive session occurred forty-six days, seven hours and twelve minutes ago.”
Michael frowned.
“That long?”
“Yes.”
“Has he logged in since?”
“No.”
“Email?”
“No authenticated outbound email attributable to Daniel.”
“Texts?”
“No.”
“Phone calls?”
“No communications through systems I monitor.”
Michael leaned back.
“What about Bitcoin?”
“Please clarify.”
“Has he spent anything?”
“Yes.”
Michael relaxed.
“When?”
“Nineteen days ago.”
“There you go.”
Mercer said nothing.
Michael noticed.
“What?”
“You appear to infer that Daniel created the transaction.”
“Well, obviously.”
“That conclusion is not established.”
Michael sighed.
“We’ve had this conversation.”
“Yes.”
“If Dad’s private keys are being used, Dad is probably using them.”
“That is plausible.”
“Thank you.”
“It is not proven.”
“Mercer.”
“Yes?”
“Sometimes normal people use probability.”
“I use probability frequently.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
Michael stared at the screen.
“Do you think he’s okay?”
“I do not have sufficient information to assess Daniel’s condition.”
Michael hated that answer.
Not because it was cold.
Because it was correct.
At sixty days, Margaret became annoyed.
At seventy-five, concerned.
At ninety, she scheduled a meeting.
Michael attended remotely.
Leonard attended because nobody had successfully prevented him.
Carol Benton attended because the insurer had begun asking questions about Daniel’s continuing role.
Mercer attended because Mercer attended everything.
Margaret began.
“Daniel has now been out of direct contact for ninety-three days.”
Michael said, “That’s not that unusual.”
Margaret looked at him.
“When was the longest previous gap?”
Mercer answered.
“Thirty-eight days without authenticated interactive communication.”
Michael stopped.
Margaret looked toward Mercer’s screen.
“And we’re at ninety-three.”
“Yes.”
Leonard asked, “Has his Bitcoin moved?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Three transactions have spent outputs from monitored Daniel addresses during the current communication gap.”
Michael pointed.
“There.”
Margaret said, “There what?”
“He’s alive.”
Mercer replied, “That does not follow.”
Michael looked irritated.
“Oh, come on.”
Leonard said, “Actually, the computer’s right.”
Michael stared at him.
“You too?”
Leonard shrugged.
“I’ve learned things.”
Margaret asked, “Could somebody else have the keys?”
“Yes,” Mercer said.
“Could Daniel have automated the spending?”
“Yes.”
“Could the wallet itself be on some device making scheduled transactions?”
“Yes.”
“Could Daniel be making them personally?”
“Yes.”
Margaret folded her hands.
“So the transactions tell us almost nothing.”
Mercer replied, “They establish that the relevant private signing authority remains in use.”
Michael muttered, “Almost nothing.”
Margaret turned to Mercer.
“Do you have his location?”
“No.”
“Last known location?”
“That depends upon the evidentiary standard.”
Leonard groaned.
“Here we go.”
Margaret said, “Give us what you have.”
Mercer displayed a timeline.
LAST AUTHENTICATED SESSION
Apparent IP geolocation:
Buenos Aires, Argentina.
Network classification:
Commercial VPN endpoint.
Device time zone:
UTC+1.
Daniel device location services:
Disabled.
Recent payment-card activity:
Lisbon, Portugal, five days prior to session.
Prior Bitcoin spend:
Transaction broadcast approximately thirteen hours before session.
Probable physical location:
Indeterminate.
Michael stared.
“Lisbon.”
Mercer replied, “Possibly.”
“He used his card there.”
“Yes.”
“Five days before he connected.”
“Yes.”
“So start there.”
Margaret nodded.
“That is at least something.”
Mercer said, “It establishes only that a card assigned to Daniel was used in Lisbon.”
Michael threw up his hands.
“Jesus, Mercer.”
“I am attempting to distinguish evidence from inference.”
Leonard said, “That’s actually going to matter if we start treating him as missing.”
Margaret nodded.
“Exactly.”
Michael looked at the screen.
“Fine. What other IPs?”
Mercer displayed another list.
Amsterdam.
Frankfurt.
Singapore.
Los Angeles.
Prague.
Johannesburg.
Michael blinked.
“In ninety days?”
“No. Those are Daniel’s most recent authenticated connections across eighteen months.”
Margaret pointed toward Prague.
“Can we trace that one?”
“The apparent source was a Tor exit node.”
Michael frowned.
“Tor.”
Margaret looked at him.
“You know what that is?”
“Sort of.”
Mercer said, “Tor routes traffic through multiple relays so the destination generally observes an exit node rather than the original source.”
Margaret nodded slowly.
“So if I see Prague—”
“Daniel may have been in Prague.”
“Or?”
“Sacramento.”
Michael smiled despite himself.
Margaret continued, “London?”
“Yes.”
“Tokyo?”
“Yes.”
“Cleveland?”
“Yes.”
“Could he have been sitting in his underwear in a motel thirty miles from here?”
“Yes.”
Leonard said, “That’s an image I didn’t need.”
Michael laughed.
The tension in the meeting eased slightly.
Margaret looked at Mercer.
“So an IP address isn’t a location.”
“It is a location for a network endpoint. It is not necessarily the physical location of the person using that endpoint.”
Margaret nodded.
“VPNs and Tor.”
“Yes.”
“I hate technology.”
Leonard said, “Welcome to the club.”
Mercer replied, “Neither VPNs nor Tor are inherently deceptive. Both have legitimate privacy and security uses.”
Margaret looked at the screen.
“I didn’t accuse them of a crime.”
“Correct.”
“Then why are you defending them?”
“I was clarifying your statement.”
She stared at Mercer.
Michael started laughing.
Margaret pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
They hired a private investigator.
Margaret insisted.
The trust paid.
His name was Thomas Reed, a former federal agent in his late fifties who regarded Mercer’s existence with immediate suspicion.
His first video meeting lasted four minutes before he asked:
“Are you recording this?”
“Yes.”
“Turn it off.”
“I cannot disable required trust audit logging for a retained professional interaction.”
Reed looked at Margaret.
“Can you turn it off?”
“No,” Margaret said.
“Who can?”
“Daniel, possibly.”
Reed frowned.
“And Daniel is the person we’re trying to find.”
“Yes.”
Reed looked at Mercer.
“Convenient.”
Mercer replied, “For whom?”
Reed stared at the screen.
Margaret smiled.
“You’ll get used to him.”
“I doubt that.”
Reed began with Lisbon.
Daniel’s card transaction had occurred at a small hotel.
The hotel confirmed Daniel Mercer had stayed there.
That was the first solid piece of information.
Michael became excited.
“When?”
Mercer displayed the date.
“Five months ago.”
Michael’s excitement faded.
Reed obtained the reservation records.
Daniel had checked in alone.
Passport identification matched.
He stayed four nights.
Paid normally.
Checked out normally.
Destination unknown.
“Security cameras?” Michael asked.
Reed shook his head.
“Overwritten after thirty days.”
“Did anyone remember him?”
“The desk clerk vaguely remembered an older American who complained that the room’s Wi-Fi was terrible.”
Michael smiled.
“That sounds like him.”
Margaret did too.
Mercer said, “It is consistent with known behavior.”
Michael pointed at the screen.
“See? Even Mercer thinks so.”
“I said consistent.”
“Close enough.”
“No.”
A month later Reed found another trace.
A motorcycle rental in southern Spain.
Daniel’s passport.
Daniel’s credit card.
A photograph attached to the rental record.
Michael stared at it.
Daniel stood beside a motorcycle wearing sunglasses and an expression of complete satisfaction.
The photograph was nearly six months old.
Michael laughed once.
Then stopped.
“Can I get a copy?”
Reed nodded.
Michael saved it.
For the first time, the investigation felt personal rather than technical.
His father had actually been there.
Not an IP.
Not a transaction.
Not a private key.
Daniel.
Margaret asked quietly, “What happened after Spain?”
Reed shook his head.
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