For Money or Mayhem - Cover

For Money or Mayhem

Nathan Everett

Chapter 21: That Scottish Play

I hadn’t slept yet when Andi called and asked if I was interested in a cup at the Analog. I glanced at the clock on my screen and realized it was after eight in the morning. After I said yes, I looked at the results of all my research during the night. What I had to report wasn’t good, but neither did it explain why Melissa would suddenly up and run away without even telling her best friend. I met Andi at the foot of the back stairs in the alley and we walked down to the Analog Café. We’d done this dozens of times in the past, though usually not quite so early in the morning. And never before with her hand in mine as we walked.

It was a beautiful clear day, though the streets were still wet from last night’s rain. The Space Needle punctuated the view down Thomas with Puget Sound glistening in the distance and an amazingly clear and crisp view of the Olympic Mountains. I had the feeling this was going to be a good day after all the stress of the week past. One thing for sure was that I had no intentions of going back to EFC this weekend, and probably not Monday either. While searching the Internet for signs of Mel during the night, my brain was processing the clues to the credit card fraud in the background.

I was down to four suspects based on who had access to my backpack after the accident. I’d been at EFC two weeks. Phil had been on vacation half that time. We’d had very little interaction. Darlene had been nothing but helpful to me since I started there. She was sweet, loyal to her boss, efficient at what she was doing, and great at covering for me when needed. I’d looked into Jen’s eyes and seen a degree of raw lust there—maybe even a challenge—but no outright malice. She had the same kind of dogged determination to get to the bottom of a puzzle that I had. Then there was Arnie. Position of power. Access to everything in the company. Technically adept. And when it came down to it, I really disliked executives. I was pretty sure I had my villain. I just needed proof.

I was so wrapped up in the pleasant sensations of walking hand in hand with my newfound love that I scarcely noticed the sights that were so commonplace in our neighborhood. I saw people I recognized—like the very cute brunette dressed, like so many people on Capitol Hill, all in black. She wore a brightly colored scarf around her neck and cowboy boots. She was hard to miss when she bent to fasten the leash of her pug to a chair leg outside while she ran in to get a coffee. I didn’t even notice. Yeah.

“How’s Cali this morning?” I asked Andi.

“Better, I think. She’s still asleep. I popped my head into her room to see if she wanted to come along this morning, but she pulled the covers up over her head. Between the show and her best friend running off, she was pretty exhausted. I cuddled her until she finally fell asleep last night. Afterward, I was wishing someone would cuddle me.” She smiled up at me and I placed a light kiss on her lips just before we ordered our coffees.

“You could have called me.”

“Mmm. I glanced up, but your room was dark. I assumed you were asleep.”

“Not yet,” I said.

“Young love,” Lonnie the barista commented while he waited for us to place our orders. “I wondered when you two would finally get together. What a difference a week makes.” We grinned at him. He was already pulling our shots.

“Do you know everything about everyone in this neighborhood?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” he replied. “It’s our own little soap opera. Do you know how many hearts you’ve broken by finally choosing Andi? There’ve been more tears than coffee on this counter this week.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. “How could anyone even know?”

“Well, I certainly don’t gossip about anything, but I do hear things.” Andi was blushing almost scarlet. I looked around the café. Did I just imagine that people’s eyes were turning away from us just as I glanced their way?

“There isn’t even another girl in the same generation in this neighborhood,” I joked casually.

“Who was talking about the girls?” Lonnie said, sighing. This time I blushed—I could feel it. We left and took our drinks outside to enjoy the sunny morning. As soon as we were out of the coffee shop, Andi started giggling.

“What?” I asked.

“Pheromones. Now I’m sure of you,” she said cryptically. I raised an eyebrow. I had no idea what she was talking about. “As soon as a man falls in love, he starts exuding an aura that attracts other potential mates. It’s the perceived last chance before the boat sails.”

“Hey,” I said. “This boat has already left the harbor.”

“Hmm. This boat hasn’t even entered the harbor yet.” That shut me up, but good! We strolled south and ended up watching an early morning soccer game at Cal Anderson Park.

“What did you find out about Mel?”

“It doesn’t look good,” I said softly. This was going to be hard. “I’m suspecting she had assistance.”

“You mean she met someone?”

“Actually, I hope that’s all. She might have just put herself in danger.”

“Kidnapped? But the police...”

“If you have an eleven-year-old who disappears, the police will immediately assume kidnapping and put out an Amber Alert. But if the child is over fifteen, the first assumption is that she’s a runaway unless you can provide specific evidence that it wasn’t voluntary. The police have a bulletin out on her, but there is no active search or alert. But Mel...”

“I can’t believe that Olivia accused Cali!” Real anger flared in Andi all at once. I knew she was concerned for Mel, but the fact that her own daughter had been verbally attacked brought out the momma bear in her. I clutched her to me tightly.

“Whatever happened, Cali is not to blame for it,” I reassured her. “You are the best mom in the world and Cali is a great kid. She didn’t lead Mel astray. But the truth is that Mel was acting dangerously online. It’s going to be almost impossible to get her parents to see that. She was very good at keeping an image of perfection at home.”

“What was she doing?”

“I ran various searches and comparisons all night long. I still have some running. The social network account where she and Cali are friends is only one of her accounts. It’s public, and I’m sure her parents monitor it. They are both friends on her profile. Her posts are sweet and controlled. In fact, too controlled. Even Cali has slipped up and posted an occasional profanity on her updates. But Mel never expresses profanity in the way we know she uses it. Her posts are always upbeat and rah-rah. It got me thinking that this wasn’t her real profile. It took a long time to verify, but I found an account that was marked ‘members only.’ That’s a dangerous sign, but I joined it. She has over 3,000 followers on that account and they are nearly all male.”

“How do you know it is her account?”

“The photographs.”

“Oh God, no! She’s not doing pornography is she?”

“Not openly, if at all. There were enough face shots that I could recognize her clearly. The rest of the pictures were not explicit, but were suggestive. Alluring. Some were even provocative. But none of them likely to get a person thrown into jail for possessing child pornography. She’s been doing this for at least two years.” Revealing this information to Andi was hard. She was the parent of a seventeen-year-old girl. Hearing what her daughter’s best friend was doing was not going down well.

“Cali ... Cali isn’t involved in ... Please tell me no, Dag.”

“No. Believe me, once I found out what Mel was into, I did just as extensive a search on Cali. Nothing came up.”

“Thank God! What do we do now?”

“I don’t know. I still don’t have any kind of evidence that suggests that she was kidnapped—nothing I can turn over to the police. What I need to do is get access to her private email on this forum. I’m doing a search on everything I can come up with as a potential password.”

“How? How can you find a person’s password?”

“I’m using a hackerazzi technique. You’ve read about stars whose cell phones and Twitter accounts were hacked—pictures stolen, personal information given out? Essentially, most people use a password that is easy to remember. It’s usually something that has meaning to them. It could be the name of an old boyfriend, a dog, a favorite movie, an old address, even a private nickname or name of a sibling. Mother’s maiden name is popular. Now that I’ve got several different accounts where Mel has posted social updates, I’m downloading everything she’s said online into a database. I’m searching for specific types of information. I’ll do a word map to see what she’s said most frequently. Sometimes a password is simply a favorite word or phrase, and that shows up in the word map.”

“Cali’s name?”

“Too short. Passwords on most of these accounts have to be at least seven characters. And I already tried California.”

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