goes back to the files. The next conversation between them, she initiates it, thanking him for pointing out the error she’d missed. From there, the conversations become more friendly and frequent. Almost all of them seem innocent enough: coding debates, critiques on each other’s current world builds, and pop culture. From the outside, it seems normal enough for two kids talking, not the adult I suspect is on the other side of the screen. Nothing makes sense until I click open one of the more recent chat threads.
P4r4D0X: Can I have your number?
HayDay: How? The bots block that info.
P4r4D0X: It’s easy. Watch. if (x == 5661365) See? The game just thinks we’re sharing code.
HayDay: My mom wouldn’t like it if I gave my number out.
“Damn right, I wouldn’t,” Shelby growls while I jot down the phone number to search later. “What was she thinking? Hayden knows better. Or, at least, I thought she did.”
“She’s a teenager. They make bad decisions all the time.”
“How would you know?” she questions sarcastically.
“Because she has half my DNA.”
She rolls her eyes at me, but we both know it’s the truth. I may never have been a part of her life growing up, but she’s my daughter. My blood is in her veins. Rebellious streaks are just a part of it.
“What does the next one say?”
Clicking on the file, I hit pay dirt.
P4r4D0X: Big tournament this week. You playing?
HayDay: No. My mom has to work.
P4r4D0X: Go on your own. I could meet you there.
HayDay: My mom would kill me.
P4r4D0X: If she’s at work, how would she find out?
HayDay: I can’t sneak out like that.
P4r4D0X: I want to meet you. Just take a bus. You can call me when you get there.
“That’s a few days before she disappeared.”
“Looks like her friend convinced her to bail and bus it down to Austin to meet him, and we know what happened when she got there.”
Pulling from the notepad with the number on it, I exit out of the files and pop it into the location software I had used to ping Hayden’s phone. Nothing comes up. I try to call it using a fake number online, but it never connects. Fuck. Another dead end.
“It’s probably a burner phone.” I spin to look at Shelby, who shrugs. “What? I like crime shows. What’s next?”
“With the kid in the wind, and this number being a dead end, we’re stuck. Judge sent Priest and Burnt out to keep an eye on the place in Martinsville and the comic store for the kid.”
“I hate not knowing, Wyatt. I wish she never started playing that stupid game. If I had put my foot down, none of this would have happened.”
“Hindsight is a bitch. You could have never predicted she would go rogue like this.”
“I hate that she’s out there, alone and scared, while we’re here playing this stupid game.”
Shit. Playing the game. “Why didn’t I think of that sooner?” Shoving out of my chair, I grab Hayden’s laptop from my other desk, bringing it back with me and opening it up.
“Think of what sooner?”
“If he found Hayden playing this game, what’s not to say that he’s not still doing it under a new name? I could go create my own account and follow what Hayden did. Maybe he’ll take notice and try to chat with me.”
“Would that even work? What if he just bailed on it the second they had Hayden?”
“Because predators never get enough, and they always want more. And when something works, they’ll keep doing it until their supply runs dry or they get caught.”
Shelby stalks over to the other desk and wheels the chair over next to me.
“Let’s play.”
Shelby
One thing this game proves, without a doubt, is that Hayden didn’t get this particular interest from me. Holy crap, this is boring.
At first, I try watching the way Wyatt builds a world, digging things and developing others, but honestly, it looks like nothing more than a bunch of pixelated blocks to me, making my brain hurt.
Wyatt and I never were very similar, but when we were younger, that’s what always made us special. He was into computers and classic rock, while I was into art and heavy metal. He loved quiet days spent online, and I loved nights out on the town.
His fingers fly at lightning speed. This man is the father of my child. The same man who stole my heart all those years ago. And when I ran, I’d left it with him. There’ve been guys since him, but