by Amanda Tru
“Camden, tell me what’s wrong,” Israel demanded. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
Still ignoring him, Camden clicked on the messages again. Shaya Yanzik contacted Camden Hutchins today, saying she’d seen his profile and wanted to meet. Fake Camden had responded that Shaya wasn’t on his list of matches, but after seeing her profile, he thought he’d like to meet her. It went on from there. All the messages were from today after Camden’s security measures had sent Shaya an email flagging the new login.
Camden stood so suddenly, he knocked his chair down. He ran to the door with Israel on his heels.
“Camden, I need to know what’s wrong!” Israel shouted.
“Bailey is in trouble!” he said, making it to the elevator and hitting the down button repeatedly.
“What’s going on? Should I call 911?” Israel asked in alarm.
Camden shook his head. “They won’t get there fast enough or know what to do.” Watching the lights above the elevator climb up to their floor in a painstakingly slow rhythm, Camden explained hurriedly, “Bailey had me fill out a Betwixt survey so she could send me on one of her stupid dates. I filled it out but told her I wouldn’t submit it and make it public. She apparently submitted it anyway.”
“Why is that a problem?” Israel asked as the elevator finally arrived with a happy ding.
When the doors slid open, both men rushed in, and Camden repeatedly pressed the button for the first floor, trying fruitlessly to get the contraption to move at a faster pace.
Camden shook his head. “It just is. Long story short, someone hacked a Betwixt profile today and set up a date with the Camden Hutchins profile. When I refused to go on Bailey’s date tonight, Bailey insisted on going herself. Israel, the person Bailey went to meet is not who she claimed to be.”
As if understanding the gravity of the situation without getting all the details, Israel remained silent until the doors slid open on the ground floor.
“I’m coming with you,” he said adamantly before both of them sprinted for the front doors of the building.
They ran through the dark parking lot until they reached Camden’s SUV.
“You drive,” Camden said, tossing Israel the keys. “I need to make a call.”
They slid into the seats, and Camden recited the address listed in the Betwixt messages.
Israel took off with foot pushing the accelerator to the floor, paying no attention to the speed limits.
With his hands shaking, Camden pushed a few buttons on his phone, making a call he’d hoped to never need to make.
He looked at the clock gleaming an evil glow from the center console.
It’s too late.
It’s too late.
With all of the emotions churning through his body, the worst was the stark fear that despite everything, he wouldn’t be in time to save Bailey.
“Hi!” Bailey greeted the host brightly. “I’m supposed to meet someone here, but I’m not sure which one of us arrived first. My friend’s name is Shaya Yanzik, and she is expecting Camden Hutchins.”
“Please have a seat while I check, Miss,” the host replied, indicating one of the empty seats placed between the front door and his little podium.
“Thank you,” Bailey answered, obediently taking a seat. The restaurant wasn’t crowded, and she was the only one waiting. It didn’t seem to be an overly fancy place, though Bailey couldn’t see many of the seats past where the dining room opened up.
Bailey didn’t like waiting. It gave her too much time to think, and in this case, feel guilty about what she’d done. She hadn’t made a full confession to Camden, and she worried what he’d think if he knew exactly how manipulative she actually was. With painful clarity, she now realized that she was guilty of exactly what she’d criticized Dekker for. She used people just as much as he did, trying to arrange life the way she thought best.
I’m so sorry, Lord. I know I’m not the one in charge. You are. Yet I’m struggling with seeking to manipulate things to my will instead of even asking for Yours. Please give me the courage to tell Camden what I’ve done. And help him to forgive me.
Trying to distract herself, she took out her phone and logged onto her own Betwixt client account. Unfortunately, seeing her own public profile and checking her messages and the matches garnered through Camden’s algorithm only reminded her of what she’d done when she’d created the profile account.
She remembered working at her computer a few days ago when Camden left to refill his coffee. Bailey had already filled out the questionnaire for the website but hadn’t yet pressed the “submit” button. Instead, she waited for Camden to complete his survey before she submitted hers to be run through the algorithm and her profile made public for other members on the site. She wasn’t willing to fulfill her end of the deal if he didn’t intend to fulfill his.
After all of her nagging, he’d finally irritably claimed to be “working on it.” After Camden left, Bailey printed out a form and stood to retrieve it from the printer. Her gaze caught on Camden’s computer screen, and she paused. His completed survey glowed back at her like forbidden fruit. Unable to resist, she hurried over to the computer and scrolled up and down, making sure it really was complete. Then she saw the submit button and hovered the little arrow over it.
Camden didn’t want his info submitted. She knew he intended to simply send her the survey without creating an account. However, though she wouldn’t admit it to Camden, his algorithm really did make her job easier. Narrowing the options down to a few names made finding matches much more manageable than starting from scratch with the thousands of profiles on the website. Camden wouldn’t need to know that she’d used his algorithm and created an account, and as soon as she found a match, she could delete it. He’d never know.
Bailey glanced at the door. Camden would return at any minute. She couldn’t let him catch her messing with his computer and his survey.
Before she could change her mind, she clicked submit. She filled in a few more blanks with Camden’s info and created a password. She then printed out the survey results and was just retrieving them from the printer when Camden walked back into the office.
“I hope you don’t mind, I saw you left your survey up on your computer, so I printed it out for myself,” she announced casually.
Camden looked mildly perturbed, but then shrugged. “I was going to do that anyway. At least now maybe you’ll leave me alone.”
“You can always hope!” Bailey replied blithely.
Later, she added a profile pic of him to his profile. When he wasn’t looking, she’d used her phone to sneak one of him working on his computer. He had a strange aversion to having his picture taken, but she’d actually gotten a nice shot of his face with him none the wiser.
She’d immediately began looking through the names on his algorithm list of matches but hadn’t narrowed it down when Shaya’s message had arrived in Camden’s inbox this morning. Shaya Yanzik hadn’t been on Camden’s list, but that’s probably because her location was a bit outside the radius of Bailey’s search. As soon as Bailey looked at Shaya’s profile, she felt good about setting up the date. Bailey wouldn’t call Shaya Camden’s perfect match, but Bailey was realistic enough to recognize her bias. No one would ever be perfect enough for Camden, but Shaya was pretty, accomplished, and a Christian. She was worth a try.
When Shaya wanted to meet Camden this evening, Bailey impulsively decided to go for it. She’d hoped that a quick turnaround would give Camden less time to protest. Obviously, she’d been wrong.
Trying to appease her own guilt, Bailey had also submitted her own profile and made an account on the website. So far, Camden hadn’t officially selected her date, but the whole process was rather interesting to view from the client’s perspective.
She brought up the app and checked her messages. She saw five new ones from when she’d checked earlier. Apparently, her profile was attractive enough that multiple men had already attempted to contact her.
With each message, she had the option of whether to accept the message and start a conversation or ignore it. The prospective suitors could not send her another message until she accepted the first one. Bailey idly scrolled through the messages, noticing that several of the men were actually on her list of algorithm matches.
Bailey didn’t like this much popularity, though. Camden better hurry and choose her date so she could delete her profile. Her breakup was still too fresh. She’d consented to one date, but that’s all she was ready for at this point.
“I’ll take you to your table now,” the host said, arriving at her elbow.
Bailey hopped up from the seat and followed the host through the main dining room.
“Your table is in one of the back rooms,” the host explained.
Bailey looked around curiously. Why were they in a back room? There were a few diners here and there, but overall, the main dining room didn’t look crowded at all.
The host opened a door for Bailey. The minute she stepped through, she knew she’d made a horrible mistake.
With a push to the back, Bailey stumbled the rest of the way through the doorway into the cold, outside air of a dark alley. The door clanged shut behind her with a deafening bang. Catching her balance, she swung around and tried to open the door, yanking on it with her full weight.
But it was locked.
Screaming, she lifted her hands to pound her fists against the unmoving barrier.
“You’re not the Camden Hutchins we were expecting,” a raspy voice spoke calmly.
Afraid hands would grab her at any second, Bailey whirled around with her back to the door. Heart pounding, her eyes searched the shadows, but not even a shimmer of light broke the darkness, and her eyes hadn’t yet adjusted to distinguish various shades of black.
“Who is she?” Another voice, this one deeper and more threatening, asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe she knows Camden Hutchins. I told you we should have taken a little time to find the guy and watch him. This trap was a bad idea,” the original scratchy voice complained.
“Neither one of us made that call. Now we need to figure out what to do.”
This set the men to arguing and Bailey to panicking. They were after Camden, and she’d just walked into their trap.
Bailey turned her back to the two voices and tried the door one more time, but the knob wouldn’t turn. Letting her body shield what she was doing, she pulled her phone out. She wanted to call 911, but she didn’t know if the men were speaking loud enough to be heard. It wasn’t as if she could talk and give 911 her location. With no response, the operator would likely just assume it was a prank call and disconnect.
With shaking hands, she unlocked the screen. The Betwixt app came up where she’d left off. Quickly, she pushed the button accepting all of her messages at the same time.
“Who are you?” The deep voice demanded. “Why are you here instead of Camden Hutchins?”
Bailey found one more button and pushed it before slipping the phone in the pocket of her coat and turning back around.
Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and she could make out the shapes of two large men standing about eight feet in front of her. She couldn’t see their faces and didn’t want to. They’d intended to meet Camden here to do him harm, and the sound of their voices was more than enough for Bailey to know these men wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she said the wrong thing.
“I made a fake profile on the dating site and made up a name,” Bailey’s voice shook with the lie. “I had no idea there was a real Camden Hutchins.” If they wanted Camden, there was no way she would give them any information that might help them find him.
“Why on earth would you make a guy’s profile to meet a chick?” the raspy voice asked.
Bailey swallowed with difficulty, her mind fumbling for some kind of plausible explanation. She had to come up with something and keep them talking. The longer they stayed here, the greater the chance of help arriving.
“Shaya Yanzik is a friend,” Bailey finally said. “I was pranking her. I thought it would be hilarious to have her show up for a date that was actually me.”
Bailey held her breath. She’d taken a chance, and it could very well backfire. She wasn’t in this situation because she was an idiot. She’d tried to be careful. When Shaya had messaged Camden, Bailey had searched through her profile with a fine-toothed comb. She wasn’t a new client, and her account had been active for weeks. Shaya had even gone on a few dates with her matches and seemed to be enjoying the site. No rule stated that clients couldn’t contact other clients not on their lists, and Bailey thought Shaya was brave for reaching out to someone she found attractive. If Shaya’s account were fake, then Camden would have snuffed her out long ago with his security measures. That meant that the account was not fake but hacked, in which case, she could potentially claim to know the real Shaya.
If her theories were wrong, Bailey had just announced she was lying.
“You mean to say, we just got screwed by someone who doesn’t even know this guy?” raspy voice growled. With a kick, he launched an empty box Bailey’s direction, and she had to duck as it hit the door behind her.
“If it was fake, where did you get the profile pic?” deep voice asked calmly.
So far so good. They weren’t onto her yet. She hadn’t seen their faces. Maybe if they thought she knew nothing, they’d let her go. “It was a random pic I found on the internet,” Bailey explained confidently.
“She lies,” deep voice hissed, stepping forward threateningly. “There is only one picture of that man anywhere on the internet, and that was the one you claim to have used as Camden Hutchins’ profile picture.”
“How do you know that man in the picture?” raspy voice stepped forward. Moonlight glinted off something in his hand, and Bailey whimpered, backing up along the wall away from the approaching knife.
“I don’t know him. I promise,” Bailey whispered.
“She obviously knows something.” Deep voice came around to the other side of her.
Bailey knew they were about to close in with no way for her to escape.
“What should we do?”
“We’ll take her. The boss wanted the guy, but he’ll need to be satisfied with getting the information out of her. I’m sure he has his ways.”
“You’re right. She knows too much as it is. She’ll need to come. If the boss doesn’t want her, we can dispose of her.”
“No, please. Leave me alone! Leave—”
Multiple hands grabbed her at once. Bailey screamed and kicked, writhing as the hands pinned her to the wet concrete. A smelly hand drew a piece of tape across her mouth, silencing her screams. They turned her over with her cheek biting into the hard ground, and she felt her hands tied securely behind her.
“Grab her phone and wallet,” deep voice ordered. “We’ll make it look like a mugging gone wrong.”
Then her body left the ground as she was picked up and slung over a shoulder that smelled strongly of body odor.
“This would be a lot easier if you’d actually parked in the alley and not the lot!” deep voice accused.
“We’re fine,” raspy voice assured. “There aren’t any security cameras. I couldn’t park back here. The alley has no exit. If anyone showed up, we wouldn’t have an escape route.”
Bailey’s legs were the only body parts left unsecured. With all her might, she jerked them, every once in a while landing a blow with her knee or her foot that elicited an accompanying, “Oomph.”
“I wish the boss would have let us use some drugs for this operation,” raspy voice growled. “Why did he insist Hutchins be awake when we delivered him?”
“Apparently he needs to extract as much information as possible out of Hutchins ASAP. He won’t be happy that the guy matching the face didn’t show up, and we brought him this girl instead.”
Bailey jerked her knee into what she assumed was a jaw.
Raspy voice groaned and cursed, tightening
his hold on Bailey until she feared her insides would be crushed.
“My rate just went up,” he growled. “My kidnapping services don’t include bruises.”
Deep voice laughed. “Then you should be thankful this itty-bitty gal showed up and not the real guy in the Camden Hutchins’ picture.”
“Hurry, get her in the van! You see all those cars? We need to get out of here!”
Bailey heard doors screech open right before she was thrown onto a rough carpeted floor, knocking the wind out of her.
“Hey, I’m looking for someone!” a friendly voice greeted. “My date was supposed to meet me here, but I can’t seem to find her.”
“Sorry. Can’t help you,” raspy voice said. One of the van doors slammed shut.
Though she hadn’t regained her breath, Bailey recognized this as her only chance. She squirmed and rolled her way until she came up against the hard side of the van. She then began kicking it with all her might. The resulting thuds seemed pitiful, but still, she kept kicking.
“Maybe check the restaurant,” she heard deep voice say. “Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to go.”
“She’s not in the restaurant. She sent me her location, and it says she's right here in the parking lot,” the man insisted. “You see this little blinking light on the map. Maybe you’ve seen her. She has long brown hair and is quite beautiful.”
“Haven’t seen her,” raspy voice insisted. “We’ve gotta run.”
“I’m looking for my date,” another voice said. “I’m supposed to meet her here. Pretty gal. Long brown hair. In her late twenties. Have any of you seen her?”
“Hey, is her name Bailey Whitmore?” the first voice asked.
“It sure is! Do you know her? Where is she?”
“I’m looking for Bailey Whitmore. I’m supposed to meet her for a date here!” The first voice was not happy.
“Did I hear you guys mention Bailey Whitmore?” A third new voice asked brightly. “Have you seen her? I’m supposed to meet her here for a date.”