by Margo Kelly
Kitsuneshin: I did it with Red
ImmortalSlayer: When?
Kitsuneshin: A couple of days after she joined Skadi, and I feel bad about doing it with her when I only wanted to do it with you.
ImmortalSlayer: RU kidding me? Have u done it with other girls?
Kitsuneshin: Only Red. Sorry. I’ll make it up to u.
ImmortalSlayer: brb
I needed to walk away. I went to the kitchen for a glass of water and stopped short when I saw Mom at the sink.
“I thought you went to bed an hour ago?” she asked.
“Trouble sleeping,” I said and prayed she wouldn’t follow me back to my room and see that I was on Skadi with the door shut. Worse yet, I couldn’t remember if I had taken the time to close the chat box with Derek. Mom would have a heart attack if she read our conversation.
“Do you want to play a game of Scrabble?” she asked.
“What’s with you and the board games tonight?”
“I feel like we should spend time together. That’s all.”
I reached for a glass from the cupboard, and my hand trembled. I made a quick fist and then shook out my hand. I filled my glass with water and started back for my room, but I changed my mind and turned toward Mom. “I’ll play Scrabble with you tomorrow.”
“Really?” Her face brightened. She knew I hated board games, but I could try. Tomorrow. Once in my room, I closed my door and went to my desk. I had left the chat box open.
ImmortalSlayer: Back.
Kitsuneshin: Where did u go?
ImmortalSlayer: To kitchen for glass of water, and ran into my mom.
ImmortalSlayer: She might come & check on me. I should log off.
Kitsuneshin: What makes you think she’ll check?
ImmortalSlayer: She keeps asking me to play a game with her.
Kitsuneshin: What game?
ImmortalSlayer: Scrabble.
Kitsuneshin: Scrabble? Doesn’t she know you hate board games? LOL
ImmortalSlayer: I know! Right?
Kitsuneshin: U should go play it with her so she won’t worry about you.
ImmortalSlayer: I’m too tired to try to spell words.
Kitsuneshin: But if you make an effort, then she won’t lurk over u.
ImmortalSlayer: Maybe UR right.
Kitsuneshin: I am. Go. We can talk later.
ImmortalSlayer: Ok. Thanks.
Kitsuneshin: Love u.
ImmortalSlayer: ☺
I found Mom still in the kitchen. “Do you want to play Scrabble?” I asked her.
“Of course. But you’re going to bed.”
“Oh. Can’t sleep. Let’s play.” I wondered if a bug might fly into Mom’s mouth, it remained open so long, but she hurried to the family room and returned with the game before I could change my mind. Derek texted as Mom set up the board on the kitchen table. My cell vibrated in my hand, and she heard it. There was no point in ignoring it.
RU playing Scrabble with your mom?—Derek
Yes, so please stop texting.—Thea
Ok have fun. Love u.—Derek
Thanks . . . Me 2—Thea
“Who’s texting this late at night?” Mom asked.
“Emily. She finished the movie with her family, and she wanted to know what I was doing.”
“Tell her you’re not allowed to text so late.”
“Mom, it’s a Saturday night.”
“I don’t care. Tell her.” It vibrated again before I could tell anybody anything.
“Okay,” I said. “I will right now.”
I read Derek’s message fast and texted him back. He seriously had to stop. I tucked the phone under my thigh and selected tiles for the game. It buzzed against the hard wooden chair.
“Give me the phone.”
“What?” I asked, and Mom stuck out her hand. A six-ton monster smashed his foot against my chest and knocked the wind out of me. She reached for the phone at my thigh, and I pushed it under my rear. The blood pounded in my head, and I gasped for air.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
Mom bent over me and grabbed for the cell.
“No, Mom.” My throat tightened around the words, and I started to shake. My fingers went ice cold. She pushed past my hands and struggled for the phone. “No!” I snatched it, and it vibrated again. “Stop!” I yelled both to Mom and to Derek. He had to stop texting.
“Give me the phone!” Mom yelled. Her face blazed crimson red.
“No,” I whispered.
“Now!” She spit the word. “Don’t doubt me. I will get that phone even if I have to take it by force!” I’d never in my life seen Mom so angry. Heat radiated off her body, and her eyes widened. I surrendered and gave her the cell. My entire body shook with fear.
Mom pinched her reading glasses and studied the phone. “Who the hell is Derek? And how the hell do I read the text he just sent?” I stuck my hand out to show her, and she jerked the cell away. “I’ll figure it out.” She did, and she read his last two messages. I didn’t know what they said. Plus, I hadn’t deleted any of the texts from today. Lately, I’d only cleaned them out before I went to bed. She read more messages, and my body trembled violently against the wooden chair.
“Who is Derek?” she asked in a shaky voice. When I didn’t answer, she looked at me with a blank face.
“It’s Kit.” Defeated.
“The character from Skadi?” she asked, surprised by the revelation.
“Yes.”
“You gave him your cell phone number?” Her voice rose to a new pitch, and her neck flushed red. I never before imagined that she would hit me out of anger, but I feared she could now. Mom walked out of the kitchen. The phone buzzed again, but she seemed to ignore it. I jumped up and followed her.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I should call the police . . . I’m trying to think. Of all times for your dad to be out of town.” Mom stopped at her bedroom door and read the incoming text. Her thumbs started to move across the keypad.
“Why are you typing?”
“Shh.” She struggled with the keys, but she managed to press the Send button.
Anger blazed inside of me. Heat rose from the pit of my gut, burning my lungs and lighting my throat on fire. “What did you type?”
“I told him the text was from your mom and that you are fifteen years old. I told him if he ever texted or attempted to contact you again, I would call the police.” The phone buzzed. Mom looked at the screen and scrunched up her mouth.
“What did he say?” I asked and tasted dinner coming up from my throat. Mom wouldn’t answer me. I leaned closer hoping to see the screen, but she moved away too soon. She stepped into the bedroom and picked up the cordless phone from the charger on her nightstand.
“Who are you calling?” I begged the answer.
“Your father.” The bed creaked as she perched on the edge. Momentary relief flooded through me. She was calling Dad, not the police. I squatted on the floor and listened to Mom’s side of the conversation.
“Remember Kit from Skadi?” she asked Dad.
“His real name is Derek. He has Thea’s cell number. For all we know he’s been manipulating her for over a year . . .” I wished I could hear Dad’s side. Mom’s fingers quivered, and she switched the phone to her other hand. “Yes. I will.” Mom ended the call, rose, and walked right past me. She carried the house phone in one hand and my cell phone in the other.
“What are you doing?” I stayed right on her heels. She returned to the family room and pressed the Power button on her computer. My cell buzzed. What did it say? I wanted to grab her and yell at her and force her to answer me. She read Derek’s text while she waited for her computer. She set both of the phones next to her keyboard, and her hands shook more noticeably. She googled the phone number for the Nampa Police Department.
CHAPTER 20
What could the police do at 11:30 at night? And how was chatting online even breaking any sort of la
w?
“I need to report a possible Internet predator,” Mom said into the phone. “No, not an emergency, but I fear this guy has been influencing my daughter for a year, and I need the situation investigated.” Mom’s eyes darted around the room. “Yes, she’s here. That’d be great. Thanks.” She gave our names and address, and when she finished the call, she dialed another number. It must’ve been Dad, and he must’ve been waiting, because she spoke immediately.
“They said there’s an officer nearby, and they’d send him over now. Sure. Love you, too. Bye.” She set the house phone down and scratched her forehead.
“Are you all right?” I hated seeing her upset like this.
“Don’t.” She pointed her finger at me and lowered her voice. “Don’t talk.” My cell vibrated continuously, indicating an incoming call—not just a text. Mom picked it up, and the walls of the room began to close in around me. What would happen if Mom spoke to Derek? My vision began to spin, and my phone continued to vibrate.
“You’ve given a complete stranger your personal information.” Mom set my phone back down. “You have no idea who this guy is. Or what he’s capable of!” she yelled, and the whole house reverberated.
“He’s not a complete stranger.” My voice trembled almost as much as my body.
Mom balled her hands into fists; her knuckles, white.
“He has your phone number. He knows who you are and where you live. He is twenty and you are fifteen. There are laws in place to protect girls like you from guys like him.”
“He hasn’t done anything wrong,” I whispered.
Mom grunted, and the stunned look in her eyes made me want to throw up.
Someone knocked at the door, and Mom flinched. She went to the side window and peeked out. I’d never seen her do that before. I hung back, and Mom opened the door and invited a police officer inside.
“That was fast,” Mom said.
“I was on patrol nearby,” the officer said. He entered and scanned the entryway of our home. His hands rested on the gun belt he wore around his waist, and he was younger than I expected. Plus, I thought cops always traveled in pairs? He introduced himself, and Mom asked him to sit on the couch in the family room. I remained standing, frozen in place. Mom gave him the short version of the evening’s events.
“My daughter met this guy during an online game, and I fear he’s been pursuing her for a year.”
“Join us,” the officer said to me and waved me over. I complied and sat next to Mom on the opposite couch facing him. “Thea, what do you know about this guy?” He pulled out a small notebook and a pen, waiting for my answer.
I swallowed and debated how to answer. I chose truth, for now. “His name is Derek. He’s twenty. Lives in Georgia with his dad. His mom died from cancer—”
“Do you know his last name?”
“Felton.”
Mom slouched forward, which confused me, because I was telling the truth and I hadn’t revealed anything shocking.
“We’ll check him out,” the officer said. “If he is who he says he is, that’s fine, but if he has a record of any sort we’ll find that out also. We have a detective who investigates Internet crimes. I’ll give him your information and have him contact you tomorrow.” Then the officer went into a long lecture about online safety and listening to your parents. I tried to appear respectful, but seriously . . . like I didn’t already know this.
A click at the front door startled us.
Seth walked in, stopped at the archway, and gawked at the police officer in our family room. The officer rose, and Mom introduced him to Seth.
“Is everything all right? Why is a cop here?”
“I’ll explain later. Go get ready for bed, and let us finish here.”
“Okay . . .” Seth dragged out the word and then left.
“Is there anything more I can do for you tonight, Mrs. Reid?” the officer asked.
“Could you at least call this guy, and tell him to never contact my daughter again?”
“Do you have his number?”
“It’s in her cell.” Mom handed it to him.
“I can make the call, but if he’s in Georgia, it’s two A.M. his time. He probably won’t answer.”
“He probably will,” Mom said. “He called right before you arrived.” The officer thumbed through the menu of the phone and appeared to read a few of the texts. He wrote something on his notepad.
“Have you sent this guy pictures?” he asked me.
“Yes.” I responded without thinking.
“What?” Mom said.
I realized I had let my guard down. I was tired, and I thought the interrogation had ended. Wrong. I pinched the inside of my arm to wake myself up. I did not want to betray Derek. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
“Have you talked about sex with this guy?” the officer asked.
“Not really.” My words came out in a whisper. Mom covered her mouth.
“Did you ever arrange a time and place to meet him?”
“Not specifically.”
“But generally?” he asked, and Mom started to cry. So, if I withheld the truth to protect Derek, did that mean I was betraying Mom? I didn’t want to choose.
“Yes. Generally,” I said.
“When?” he prodded.
“After school before basketball practice.”
The officer scribbled in his notebook. In my periphery, I could see Mom’s hand pressing against her stomach.
“Are you saying . . .” she started low and slow, like each word cut through her, “that you would have met up with him before practice, and I wouldn’t have known you were missing until after? He would have had over two hours to get away with you. You could have been dead or long gone by then.” She leaned into me and yelled. “How can you not see what a problem that is?”
“Your mother is right. This could have been a very bad situation. You’re lucky she stopped it before it was too late.”
I said nothing. I still couldn’t believe this was happening. I had tried to tell the truth, but they all jumped to the wrong conclusions about Derek.
The officer pushed more buttons on my phone, and then handed it back to Mom.
“You’re not going to call him?” she asked.
“I don’t want to jeopardize the investigation. We need to let Detective Corbett handle it from here.”
Mom rubbed her cheek. “Do you need to take the phone and computer as evidence?”
“The detective will contact you and arrange for that. But, yes, I’m sure he’ll need both.”
“I appreciate you taking the time to come over.” Mom ran her fingers through her hair.
“That’s my job. Stay safe, Thea, and do what your mom tells you. She knows best.” He shook my hand and Mom’s, started to leave, but then looked back at me.“Just because this guy has a cell phone with a Georgia area code doesn’t mean he’s in Georgia. He could live down the street from you, or he could be someone from your school. That’s the thing about the Internet. You don’t know who you’re talking to. Be extra careful until this is sorted out.” He took a step toward me. “Understand?”
I relented. “Yes.” He waited a moment longer then reached for the door and left.
Seth came down the hall right away; he’d probably been eavesdropping the entire time.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Your sister was almost abducted by an Internet predator.”
Oh. My. Gosh. She was blowing this all out of proportion. But I kept my mouth shut.
“What?” His jaw dropped. She told Seth her pessimistic version that made me look bad and made Derek look a lot worse. Seth glared at me. Big surprise.
“I’m going to bed,” I said, but before taking a step, Mom stopped me.
“Sit down.” She pointed at the couch. I collapsed into the cushions.
“Seth,” Mom said, “bring Thea’s CPU out here.” He went without question while Mom and I sat in silence. He returned sooner than I expected, probabl
y because he only had to unplug my computer from the wall and disconnect a few cables. He set it on the coffee table.
“Thea, bring me the charger for your cell phone.”
I stumbled out of the room in silence, and when I returned, I found Mom at her desk, her computer on, and my phone in hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Showing you how easy it is to find information on someone,” she said. “Pull up a chair.”
“Do you want me to stay, too, Mom?” Seth asked.
“Go to bed, honey.”
“Okay. Get me if you need me.” He scowled at me, but walked away when I mimicked him.
Mom pulled up Google and typed in Derek’s cell phone number with the words reverse search.
“Mom,” I said, “reverse searches don’t work for cell numbers.”
“Oh yeah? Watch.” She clicked on a website from the Google list and then reentered Derek’s cell number. A picture popped up with a map of Georgia and a thumbtack. Then she clicked on a red button that said, “Get Full Details.” She typed in a credit card number and for ninety-nine cents the website displayed Derek Felton’s name, street address, and approximate value of his home.
She shook my cell at me. “He did this with your number, too. He knows where we live.”
My shock transformed into relief, and I tapped the monitor. “But see, that says his street address is in Georgia. The officer was wrong about him being someone we already know.”
Mom rubbed her forehead. After a moment, she typed his name inside quotation marks and his full address into Google. It pulled up different results than when I had googled him. She clicked on the Facebook link. Derek’s senior picture from high school displayed on the screen with basic information about him.
“That’s him,” I said, and I felt like an idiot for not doing a more efficient Internet search than my own mom.
“You know what he looks like?” Mom asked.
“He sent me that picture.”
“Are you kidding?” Mom yelled. “I thought you were smarter than this—” She bit her lips together as though she wanted to stop herself from speaking, but she said more anyway. “Where’s the picture?”
“On my phone.”
Mom pulled the picture up on my cell, squinted at it, and then compared it to the one on the computer monitor. “How can you think this looks like a current picture of a twenty-year-old boy?”