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Authors: M Evonne Dobson

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BOOK: Chaos Theory
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Twenty

When I reach the bathroom hallway, Daniel stands huge and frozen, legs spread apart like he's on a ship's deck in rough water. His arms cross over his chest in matching pirate mode. And yeah, wouldn't you know it? He's got his backpack so there's a clink. Clink. Clink. Without warning he storms toward me.

I ask, “What are you doing here? Do you want Vampy V to see you?”

That clink, clink, clink never stops. I step in front of him, blocking him. “Turn around and get out of here. And send that text!” The text where he claimed his mom grounded him, but he couldn't wait until their next meeting.

He asks, “Who was that guy you were with?”

WTF. Now was not the time to discuss Emerald Green Eyes. Finally, I say, “Nobody.”

He tilts his head and snorts. He says, “Get out of here. Victoria won't let this go. I'm going to do whatever it takes.”

From behind my back, Victoria says, “I was worried you weren't going to show.” Daniel steps around me. I spin in time to see him wrap his arm around Vampy V and lead her behind one of the mall's pillars.

I lean around the pillar, and freeze. He's got Vampy V's long blond hair in his hand, exposing her pearl earrings. She moans as Daniel presses her against the pillar and locks lips. His tongue cuts off her moan. Victoria's hand drops to his lower back and tightens on Daniel's coat.

In my shocked state, it takes a minute to realize that Daniel's pulled back slowly. He says, “I need a week. Then I'll be free to call you.”

“I'm not…”

Her protest is cut off when Daniel closes in for another kiss. Again he pulls back. “You don't threaten me anymore. I set the rules. I'll call. No more threats, Victoria.”

That makes her angry. Her hand on his back leaps toward Daniel's face with nails to rake at him. With ease, Daniel grabs her wrist. He kisses her again, and he's wearing her down. He was right; the text about being grounded wouldn't have worked—this is.

He pulls away slow. “No more threats, Victoria. I'll call when I can. Are we clear on that?”

She nods. Her lips are swollen and red.

Daniel pushes it. “Say it. Say you'll wait and not call or follow me.”

Her voice is husky and deep—not at all like a high school student's. “I won't. I promise. I'll wait.”

“Good.” Then Daniel turns and heads to the exit. With nothing else to do, I trail after him, giving Victoria a shy glance. She doesn't even notice because her eyes are locked on Daniel's back.

In the parking lot, Daniel reeks of he-man anger. I get in his face. “What was that about? You were...”

“It got the job done. She's not going to bug us.”

“But you…How could you…?”

“Told you. Whatever it takes.” His fist strikes the door; the car is an undeserving metal punching bag. His rage makes me back up a couple paces. I really don't know Daniel at all. Then he turns and leans back against the door to look at me.

His voice drips, yeah drips, with sarcasm. “At least I had a reason. What the hell were you doing with that guy? You forget to tell me you have a boyfriend?” And his hand on his backpack goes clink. Clink. Clink. “Let me explain this straight and on the table. That lie to Victoria was the exception—the only exception. I don't play games with women and I keep it honest.” I believe him.

Then in separate cars, we head for the Bat Cave to meet the others. I arrive first, take off my coat, and lean back on the sofa with my feet on the coffee table. Daniel shows up with a clink. Clink. Clink. He sits down in an easy chair. He leans forward and continues the conversation from earlier. “Who's the guy at the mall?”

“A friend.”

He continues the clink. Clink. Clink.

“I've known him most of my life. It's…” I don't know Daniel at all. We don't have anything set in stone. I get ticked off with myself. Why am I explaining like I'm guilty with a big embroidered A on my breast? Where does he get off getting all possessive? “It's none of your business.”

Luckily, Sam and Sandy roar in at that point, ending the discussion. They've printed an eight by five photograph and smaller ones for us to carry around. Sandy's on cloud nine and she should be. We have a photograph of the mysterious Ink.

Sandy takes out her scotch tape and posts the photo on the crime board, labeling it, “Suspect.” And isn't that satisfying? She takes control; after all it is her discovery. “Okay, first impressions of the photograph?”

We all stare at the smaller photograph in our hands.

I say, “He's way over sixteen.”

Sam says, “He's at least nineteen, but probably older. Something about this is hitting my yuck-radar. I mean, Julia was only fifteen. Those e-mails and text messages were really explicit.”

Daniel doesn't say a word.

I say, “To be honest, take a look at her freshman photograph. The way she's wearing her makeup and her shaved head make her look a lot older.”

Sandy points to the angel photograph. “She worked hard to dump that angel look.” Then she punches the second photo. “This little girl got buried deep in this new makeover. Bet she changed how she talked too. You know, swearing and talking a lot older than she was. If she was hanging around the queen bees, it wouldn't take long to do that. Same with the sex angle.”

Daniel shoots out of his chair and starts pacing. If we solve this mystery without him breaking a hand from hitting a concrete wall, I'll be shocked. I stand in his path. One look from me and he settles down. I turn back to Sam and Sandy. “What matters is getting this creep. Is he a college student? He dummied up the Facebook page and said he's a student. Is that true?”

Sam digs a tooth into his first knuckle, thinking. Then he points at his laptop screen and the guy's address. “Has to be. E-mail's an iacollege.edu tag. To get one you have to be a registered student. He might be gone now, but he was a student.”

Daniel asks. “Can we go through the college records?”

Sam's quiet for a long time, thinking. Then he says, “Here's the deal. Privacy rules are huge and the guy's protected unless we have the police go after him. They'd need a search warrant. Do we try your handler's contacts, Daniel?”

I don't like that. “And then what? They tromp all over campus looking for him? It's a small place. Ink, if he's still there, will figure it out, cut, and run. That leaves Daniel dangling on the hook. The police can't infiltrate the campus like we can. No, we canvas the campus ourselves. We show everyone the photograph. Of course, identifying him can take weeks.” That clock ticks in my head, unless I lie and don't tell Dr. Bartlett, we have until Thursday.

Daniel is frustrated. “The college knows.”

I say, “You're right. When doing research, you don't spin your wheels when someone else has the answer. You go to the source. And the source is his college records.”

Sandy asks, “Scam it out of them? The way we got the guy's photograph from Queen Bee Mandy?”

That seems unlikely to work. I lean back on the sofa thinking. There has to be a way.

Sandy says, “Recruit Gavin.”

***

At the same time, Daniel asks, “Gavin?” I ask, “From the pep bus, Gavin?”

Sandy blinks her eyes. “Seriously? You don't know? He's this computer hacker guru. He got into the college database once; I bet he can do it again.”

“My Gavin? My Gavin with the Emerald Green Eyes? Sandy, you never told me that.”

Daniel changes up his poker tell on my words,
my Gavin
, Fist. Clink. Fist. Clink. Fist. Clink.

Sandy says, “I figured you knew. You've known him since kindergarten. He got caught getting into college records and he's on probation. How can you not know what he does for fun?”

Gavin with the Emerald Green Eyes does computer hacking for
fun
? He breaks the law for
fun
? And then mentally bash my head like a cartoon character. All those times over the years that we'd talked and I hadn't known that?

Daniel asks, “So who is Gavin?”

Sandy says, “The guy lip-locking Kami in the food court.”

Then Sam the Stupid adds, “And he kissed her by chaos locker.”

I'm not lying. Daniel's mouth drops open. I feel like a slut. Can't even say I didn't kiss back, because I did, both times.

If I don't say something, my team's going to fall apart, so I say to Daniel, “Gavin's a friend. Maybe he's more than a friend. Is that a problem for you?”

Daniel's blinks once firmly, then turns to Sandy. “So how do we get Gavin on board? We have to find Julia's boyfriend, that's all that counts.”

And don't I want to climb under a shell and close the front flap like some freaking turtle?

“I can call him.” Sam says. “I'll use the same angle I used on the suicide phone calls. Anyone have his phone number?”

When Sandy doesn't step forward with it, I'm stuck. I raise my sleeve to reveal the number Gavin wrote on my wrist. “I've got it.”

Daniel huffs like I'm Eve caught in the Garden with the apple. Is that anger or surprise? Then Sam says, “Give it to me and I'll call him.”

Yeah, that isn't going to happen. “If he's good at computer hacking, he won't be easy. If we scam him and he catches on, he'll never help us.” Besides, if we bring Gavin on board, he needs to come in with full knowledge. If Gavin breaks the law getting us college records, he has the right to know why.

I say, “No. I'll call him and set up a time for tonight.” But I'm damned if I do it in front of everyone.

My BFF gets the message. “Hey, Sam and I are going to get some food. We'll be back soon.”

Sam the Entrenched says, “I'm not hungry. We can maybe look at this from another angle…”

Sandy says, “Now, Sam. We'll talk about that later.” Sam gets the message. They put on their coats and head through the bookcases. The metal door creaks the way it had the first time I ran into Daniel in my hideaway. The first time that he threatened me. The time he later said I'd smelled nice and he'd…Why do I feel guilty for kissing Gavin?

Clink. Clink. Clink. It had frightened me in the past, but he won't hurt me. He says, “You don't meet this Gavin guy by yourself.”

“Gavin isn't Vampy V. You heard Sandy. I've known him forever. He won't hurt a fly.”

“How do you know? You didn't know he was a hacker. And you've deep-throated him twice now?”

That pushes my ticked-off switch. “There wasn't any French kissing involved.” But there could have been, if there had been more time. Both times, my bod thought that was a really good idea.

Twenty-one

That was then. This is somehow guilty now. I'm exhausted—bone-deep exhausted. “Daniel, I chased him all fall, and got nowhere. We've been in class together for years. Classmates. We did a history project together in seventh grade. Heck. We've been in band together since fourth grade.” But I don't mention how hot he'd become in the last year. I sag onto the sofa. “What's wrong with me? How can I not know about his computer hacking?” And why am I some freaky sex addict when Gavin's around? “Daniel, there is something screwed up inside me. I know more about you and Julia than Gavin. It's crazy.”

The clink, clink, clink stops. He grins slow and sweet. “Nah. You're just not interested enough to find out, that's all.”

Daniel nods his head toward the bookcases where Sam and Sandy will return. “Come on, Sherlock. Give this Gavin a call, but I'm not letting you meet him alone.”

And shouldn't that embarrass me? But it doesn't. Checking the phone number brand Gavin's left on me; I enter it into my cell and hit the green button. A half an hour later, passing Sam and Sandy returning with junk food, Daniel and I head to the library entrance to meet him.

***

My history-project buddy walks into the library, and my breath catches. He really is a gorgeous guy. I step forward with Daniel glued to my side. Gavin smiles, sees imposing Daniel with his MA face on, and stops.

I whisper to Daniel, “Remember we need him.”

“Hi, Kami.” Gavin's voice is warm and, ignoring Daniel, he pulls me into a big physical hug.

I say, “Thanks for coming.” And doesn't that electric zing shoot through me again. Know him or not, something deep inside zaps to primal life when I'm near him. I focus on our plan and order Hormonal Kami to knock it off.

I sit with Gavin at a table not far from the entrance. Daniel crowds in. I give him a get-out-of-here look. He backs off and stands near the door to the stacks and the Bat Cave. He looks mean as hell. Can you say gatekeeper troll?

“Gavin, here's the deal.” I give him a brief overview.

Half an hour later Gavin and I, with Daniel trailing, climb the endless stairs. At one point, Gavin, who is not in MA physical shape, sort of weaves toward me. Daniel growls. Yes, he growls. Gavin straightens, but not without his own quieter growl back at him. I wonder how this is going to work. Mixing two Neanderthals together isn't a good idea.

I slip through the tight space between the bookcases and Gavin follows. Both Sandy and Sam barely look up from their laptops at the carrels. Sam mutters something about another idea to pursue. They both ignore us.

I look around the Bat Cave with fresh eyes. Our coats are piled up on the end of the sofa; bookbags are scattered beside the sofa and on the coffee table. There are open pizza boxes and some Subway sandwich wrappers with chip bags—most squashed and empty.

On the wall is our crowning glory—the crime board. It isn't neat anymore, but it is impressive. The timeline is so detailed that you have to get close to read it. Along the bottom, we've added photographs connected by green twine that leads to their timeline spot. A copy of Gravel Voice's photo from the police website is there. School photos of Mandy, Tammy, and Vampy make a little pine-tree shape. The most recent addition is the phone photo of Ink posted below a heading
Suspect
.

Music from Sandy's iPhone plays. For this case, she put together a playlist from famous mystery/thriller movies. I made her delete the Hitchcock
Psycho
bathroom scene music.

Gavin simply says, “Wow.”

I lead him over to the board and walk him through the details, including Daniel's role and his CI agreement.

“That sucks.” For the first time, Gavin looks toward Daniel with sympathy. Daniel projects an even uglier expression. Gavin asks, “So what do you need from me?”

Whatever Sam and Sandy are working on with iron determination is put aside. They leave their laptops and join us at the crime board. Sam starts. “Kami filled you in, but here's where we're stuck.” He taps Ink's photo. “We know he is or was a college student. Is he still there? Is he going to class? Where is he living? Stuff like that. I've done everything I can, but can't get into his personal information on the college intranet. That's where you come in.”

Gavin's shoulders droop. “I want to help, but can't.”

Sandy jumps first. “Can't or won't?”

“Can't. I was caught hacking it last summer. They have one brilliant tech wiz, and he's fast. He tracked me down in seconds. Half an hour later, police are at my front door. I'm on a special probation and can't violate it. Now, they have me hacking the college system for holes in their systems, five hours a week for six months.” Gavin doesn't give up, though. “How do you know this guy is a student here?”

Sam says, “Daniel had Julia's laptop and smartphone. We accessed her Facebook account and her contacts.”

Gavin raises his left eyebrow an impossible three inches.

Sam the Detailer plugs on. “Yeah, stupid. No passwords and fully public, we had direct entry on startup. That gave us access to the boyfriend's Facebook page where he posts that he's a sixteen-year-old college genius. His e-mail is [email protected]. The real science savant Greg Thompson-Smith uses [email protected]. The real Greg's Facebook page is titled IQ149—not exactly searchable as a useable ID, but shows the guy's ego factor. He is a sixteen-year-old Chemistry PhD student. So Julia's guy is posing as him.

Daniel says, “I don't understand how an imposter can use an e-mail address that so obviously should be someone else's?”

“Students can use anything they want for their e-mail. No one checks it. Can't tell you how many Darth Vader variations there are out there.”

Gavin cracks his fingers with some loud pops. “Let me see her laptop. Let's start with the college's public directory. I can get you to hidden public stuff—not illegal—but most students don't know about it.” A name springs up on the laptop—the Greg we want: Greg Matthew Jacobs, Sports Medicine Major.

Gavin says, “The thing is, the registered college name is probably his real one, given his college application. You'd have to be really connected to get fake creds to apply—fake stuff like social security numbers, driver's license numbers, date of birth. Probably just weird luck that the first name is the same for both. I can get more.” He punches more buttons. “See here's the address where he lives.”

Thrilled, Sandy and Sam huddle over Gavin's shoulder as he works. I ease in the opposite direction until I'm beside Daniel. “He's helping us. Stop treating him like he's a rapist.”

“Whatever. Don't be alone with him.”

I check him over. “You're serious.” Then I say, “That time you followed me home from MA in the snow? I thought it was to intimidate me, but it was more than that, wasn't it? You were making sure that I made it home safe.”

“You're a pain, Kami.”

It's nice to know though. “Daniel, I can handle him.”

“Do you want to?”

And isn't that close to what I've been wondering myself?

***

Later, Gavin says, “This is scary.” He pulls back from Greg's Facebook page, and eyes the computer monitor like it turned into a shark.

“Why?” All of us lean into the space he's left open.

“This Facebook page is plain predatory.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you go below the normal Facebook features, it shows a whole bunch of scary. Every new Facebook page gets invites based on what the maker enters. In this case, he says he's an Iowa College student. Should rec students and profs, college clubs, stuff like that. Then there's the ad factor that recs pizza-joint coupons, the movie discounts, the Best Buy sales notifications—even nearby mechanic shops offering discount oil changes. Whoever set this page up didn't bite on a single one.”

That doesn't seem unusual to me. “Maybe he set it up, but never bothered to come back to it.” I would. I hated Facebook.

“College professors have public Facebook pages. They post class and homework college links. That's how I broke through the firewalls and got caught. You're crazy not friending those. Profs check who likes and friends them and who doesn't.”

And use it against you? “Thanks for the tip.” I press again. “But let's say he's a klutz or wasn't paying attention on the first day of class. It happens right?”

“Sure, but this guy?” Gavin holds his hand over the keyboard as if he's getting a vibe from it, and he doesn't like it. “He sent out one invitation and only one.”

“To Julia.” Daniel grates his teeth. “This guy set this up to target my half-sister.”

“Yeah. That kind of predatory behavior is linked to child pornography, prostitution, or other illegal stuff.”

I say, “And innocent ninth-grader Julia was his target.”

“Yes.”

Daniel does his storm to the crime board like a tornado, zeroing in on the boyfriend's photo. “Get information on this creep.”

Gavin says, “I can't hack the college with my parole agreement, but I know a guy who can—the guy clocking my community time. He's with campus security.”

I ask, “How fast can we get to him?”

Gavin checks the computer's late-night timestamp. “This time of night? Campus town Donut Shop. I'll call and set it up.”

***

Sam and Sandy stay at the Bat Cave to pursue another investigation angle Sam thought up. He calls it grunt work. Sandy is more graphic. “You know how you and Daniel were scooping horse manure? Well, this is the computer equivalent. Once we get one hit—and we should, the rest will fall fast. We'll let you know how it pans out.”

Daniel and I ride in his Mustang. His heater works. We follow Gavin, who's in his mom's Prius. After the hacking incident, his mom and dad yanked his car. He jokes, half-serious, that he won't have wheels for at least a year, maybe two.

At the college donut shop, a lone Hispanic man sits in the corner booth with high defined cheekbones, like mine. He's tall with a long gray hair in a ponytail. Beside his humming laptop are two cake donuts with pink frosting and sugar sprinkles and a huge steaming coffee mug. He waves to Gavin. A blue tattoo circles his right wrist. Gavin nods, but veers first to the counter where the attendant finishes sticking day-old markers on the donuts. Ponytail comes for the cheap donuts.

Gavin offers to buy mine; Daniel's on his own. “A raised one with chocolate frosting,” I say. Gavin orders donuts and two cups of coffee.

I say, “I'd rather have hot chocolate.” Late night chocolate fix.

He pays. “Believe me, take the stronger caffeine. Before Luis Sanchez decides to help, he'll grill you.”

I clutch the hot coffee cup; breathing in reminds me of Dad.

We sit at the corner table with big windows that let the cold seep in. I can't get a read on him. He's a blank page. My first science competition had been body language. Not getting a read tells me tons, all scary.

BOOK: Chaos Theory
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