Girl in Trouble (An Alex Mercer Thriller Book 1)

by Stacy Claflin

  The tears finally spilled from her eyes, and she couldn't speak another word.

  Kellen pulled the mic closer to him. "Thank you so much for your time and help." He guided Zoey offstage.

  Vigil

  Alex turned off the television and rubbed Clementine between the ears. He purred but didn't move. The conference had been good, and it was definitely better that he hadn't spoken. People in the audience would've yelled or thrown things. Zoey, Macy, and the teachers were clearly the best choices—they actually spent more than a couple days a year with Ariana. Even Kellen made more sense than Alex.

  His phone buzzed. Clementine jumped, ran across the room, and licked his tail. Macy's number showed on the screen.

  Could they have already gotten a good lead?

  Alex answered the call. "Hey. You did great."

  "Thanks. There's going to be a candlelight vigil at the big park by Ari's school."

  "Yeah?" His stomach twisted.

  "You should come."

  "It's better if I don't." He gritted his teeth.

  "No, it's not. You need to show your support."

  "You've seen the comments. Everyone hates me."

  "Show them they're wrong, Alex. Let them see that you care."

  "If someone says something to me, I can't guarantee I won't punch their lights out."

  Macy sighed. "Like I said, prove them wrong with your actions. Just being there will speak volumes. If you're peaceful and say something about how much you love Ari, people will see what I do."

  Clementine made eye contact with Alex. It was like they were both pushing him to go.

  He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's say I go. What if people start saying the things they've been posting?"

  "Then you tell them it's not true. All you want is Ari's safe return. That you love her very much."

  Alex clenched a fist. "I'd be better off looking into the older kidnappings."

  "Come to the vigil. For Ari." His sister knew how to hit where it hurt.

  "What good will it do? Really?"

  "It'll be good for you, Alex. It's all about everyone banding together for your daughter. It certainly wouldn't hurt your reputation."

  Clementine pranced over and rubbed against Alex's legs, purring. He rubbed the cat's back.

  "What do you say?" Macy asked.

  "Fine, I'll go."

  "You will? I'll be right over."

  What had he just gotten himself into? "Maybe I should drive myself. That way if I have to leave early—"

  "Nonsense. We'll go together. Everything will be just fine. You'll see."

  "But I—"

  "Nobody's going to do anything stupid in the middle of a candlelight vigil for a lost little girl."

  Alex frowned. For someone who'd been through as much as Macy, she sure had an unrealistic view of the world. Or maybe it was because of all she'd been through that she needed to believe people were better than they were.

  "I'll be there in ten minutes. Can you start a pot of coffee? It's going to be cold out there, and I don't know about you, but I want something warm to drink."

  "Yeah, sure. See you then." He ended the call and rose before he could talk himself out of going. Clementine scampered away.

  Alex went downstairs to the kitchen and got the coffee maker going. All was quiet in the house aside from the clacking of Dad's computer. He was probably updating his blog on the press conference. Alex headed back to his room to throw on some extra clothes. Macy was right about one thing—it would be freezing out there. It felt like it could snow.

  Mom came out of her room. "You're going to the vigil?"

  "I take it you talked to Macy."

  She threw her arms around him. "I know this is hard on you, but it'll do you good."

  He nodded, though he doubted she was right.

  Fifteen minutes later, all four of them climbed into Macy's car, clinging to their mugs of hot coffee. Dad sat in the back next to Alex. "This brings back memories, doesn't it?"

  Alex nodded. "Yeah. I remember going to our neighborhood park when Macy was gone."

  They rode the rest of the way in silence. Alex's stomach twisted in knots. He didn't want to think back to Macy's kidnapping any more than he wanted to think about Ari's. Ten years later, his sister's disappearance still gave him nightmares.

  The car slowed as they neared the park. Alex's breath hitched. A crowd gathered in a big, open field where kids often kicked balls, chased each other, and threw Frisbees. Macy drove around the parking lot three times.

  Dad cleared his throat. "You guys get out. I'll park down the road."

  "I'll go with you," Alex said.

  "I'd feel better if you went with them. It's dark out."

  Dad, the gentleman. It would be pointless to argue with him.

  They all stepped out into the frigid night and Dad climbed into the driver's seat. "I'll catch up with you in a few minutes." He drove away.

  "I see Zoey and her parents," Macy said. "Let's join them."

  Just who Alex wanted to see. Golden Boy was probably there, too, to make it even better. Alex walked silently with his mom and Macy. Staying quiet with them was good practice for the comments sure to be headed his way by all the online trolls now gathered in the park.

  Alex should have had a couple beers rather than coffee before leaving. He didn't need to be jittery, he needed to be relaxed. Too late to worry about that now, though.

  Valerie and Kenji were handing out skinny white candles with circular paper at the bottom. Valerie hugged both Macy and his mom, but ignored Alex. Kenji handed him a candle and gave him a sad nod. Alex nodded and braced himself. That would probably be the kindest greeting he received all evening.

  His palms grew clammy and he felt too warm, despite the chilly air. He breathed heavily, white vapor exiting from his mouth each time like a puff of smoke. Great. Now he wanted a cigarette.

  "Can I help hand those out?" his mom asked.

  "Yes, please." Valerie gestured toward a box underneath a tree. "Grab a handful."

  "I'll help, too." Macy turned to Alex. "Come on."

  He shook his head. "I'm going to have to pass."

  She pleaded with her eyes.

  Alex crossed his arms. "You got me here. I draw the line at passing out candles."

  Macy nodded and then caught up with their mom. Guilt stabbed at Alex, but he wasn't going to give in. He would make an appearance, but that was it. It wasn't like a bunch of people standing in a freezing park, holding candles was going to magically free Ariana. He was only here for his family.

  He stood under a tree and watched everyone. Would Flynn make an appearance? Alex would love nothing more than to question him. Press him for answers. He'd be under a lot more pressure with so many people around.

  People gathered in a circle. Reluctantly, Alex left his spot against the tree and joined his sister and Luke, who had just arrived. Alex started to shake his hand, but Luke embraced him instead. "We'll find her. We will."

  Alex returned the embrace. "Thanks."

  A song started at the other end of the circle. It seemed vaguely familiar, reminding him of something he'd heard when his grandparents had taken him to church as a kid. Alex moved his mouth, pretending to sing. He hummed quietly to make it more convincing.

  He couldn't wait to get back home and get back to his research—to do something that could actually help find Ari.

  After a few songs, Valerie moved the to the middle of the circle and spoke about Ariana, sharing a few stories.

  It sounded like a funeral.

  Alex swallowed and forced himself to remain where he was. He wanted to run and quit participating. It wasn't a funeral. Ariana was alive, and they would find her.

  Macy tapped his shoulders. "Do you want to say anything?"

  He shook his head.

  She nodded and turned back to the center, where one of Ariana's coaches shared about how she'd been a team player and leader.

  Exactly the traits of a survivor. Alex
took a deep breath and released it quietly. He glanced around, recognizing people from his childhood—neighbors, teachers, old friends, and other familiar faces. It was almost comforting, except for the fact he couldn't be sure who hated him and who didn't.

  A few more from the community spoke, but no more family members did. People broke away from the circle and started to leave. Alex breathed a sigh of relief, glad for it to be over and eager to get back to his computer.

  Macy and Luke spoke with some others near them.

  "I'll meet you at the car," Alex said.

  "Dad has the keys."

  Right. "Okay. I'll find him." Alex stepped away from the crowd and scanned the faces. Everyone seemed to blend together. Between the dim park lighting and the visible breaths, it was hard to make out any faces.

  Someone bumped into Alex. He ignored them and stepped aside. Someone else bumped into him—this time it was more like a slam. Another person rammed into him.

  Alex clenched his fist and turned to a group of three guys a little younger than him. "What's your problem?"

  "You are."

  "How could you be so stupid?"

  "What kind of jerk lets his kid get kidnapped?"

  A fist grazed the side of Alex's face. He stumbled back and stared at them, not sure which one had struck him. He blew out his candle, dropped it, and ran at the three men.

  Fingers wrapped around his arms and pulled him back.

  "Come on, Alex," Luke said.

  He struggled to get away. Luke tightened his grip.

  More people joined the three hecklers.

  "Let him go!"

  "The cops won't give him what he deserves, we're gonna do it!"

  "Selfish texting prick!"

  Alex fought to get out of Luke's hold. "Let me go."

  "We need to get back to the house."

  Macy stepped between him and the growing crowd of jerks. "He didn't do anything wrong! Leave him alone."

  "Oh, you need your sister to fight your battles now, loser?"

  Alex broke free of Luke's grasp and ran at the men, fists swinging. He punched the nearest nose and kicked a shin. A fist hit him in the side, another in the back of his head.

  "The cops need to leave Kellen alone and go after you."

  The people shouted names at him, all the voices blending together.

  Four hands grabbed Alex and dragged him away.

  "Ignore them," Luke said.

  "We need to get home," Macy added.

  Alex pulled free of them. "I need to show them they can't mess with me that easily!"

  "You can't take all of them on." Luke looked at him like he was crazy.

  "Watch me."

  "You want the crap beaten out of you?" Macy asked.

  "I. Can. Take. Them!" Alex spun around and turned toward the haters.

  "Hey, look at this!" a girl shouted. "A picture of Alex shoving someone into a van."

  Terror squeezed Alex. "Liar!"

  "No, look." She spun around in a slow circle, showing people her phone's screen.

  "Turn yourself in!" someone shouted.

  Alex clenched his fists. "I didn't do it!"

  "Arrest him!" someone yelled.

  "Yeah!" agreed others.

  "Arrest Alex!"

  "Arrest him!"

  So many shouted it, it sounded like a chant. They repeated it, growing louder each time. The group—now at least twenty—walked slowly toward him, crying out for his arrest.

  His stomach dropped. There was no way he could take on that many, and more were joining, making the protests louder each time they called for his arrest.

  Luke grabbed Alex's arm and yanked. That time, Alex didn't fight him.

  Collaborate

  Alex rubbed his sore cheek and stared at the picture—it looked like him dragging a body into a black van next to the Ball Palace. It was either a photo that had been altered or it was of someone who could have been his twin.

  If Fleshman didn't believe him, Alex was in trouble. He'd texted the picture to him, and Fleshman was supposed to have forwarded it to some photo experts, but the picture looked bad—really bad.

  Alex studied the picture. He hadn't been wearing those clothes when Ariana had been taken. In fact, he didn't own any of those clothes—a faded, brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a blue beanie with AF across the front. He'd never owned anything like that other than the jeans.

  That had to count for something, right?

  He paced the living room, staring at his phone. How long would it take for Nick to call him back?

  "You're going to make yourself dizzy." Dad glanced up from behind his laptop.

  "Is everyone else falling for it?" Alex asked. "Online?"

  Dad frowned. "I'm not reading any of the comments."

  "Well, tell them it's fake. That's not me!"

  "I believe you, but it's hard for anyone who doesn't know you. It looks—"

  "Just like me. I know."

  "Tell them I was never there. Those aren't my clothes."

  "Unfortunately, even if I said anything, nobody would believe me. I'm your dad, remember?"

  Alex pulled his arm back, aiming to throw his phone across the room. He stopped. That wouldn't help anything, and he sure couldn't afford a new one.

  His phone rang. It was Fleshman.

  "Did your photo expert prove it wasn't me?" Alex demanded.

  "They're both looking at it now. In the meantime, you should come here."

  "What?" Alex exclaimed. "I'm not going down to your office."

  "I'm not talking about the station."

  "You're not going to arrest me, are you?"

  "No. Come to my condo—totally off the record. Just two guys hanging out, talking about our kids over beer and chips."

  Alex's mouth dropped. He struggled to find his voice. "Y-you'd do that?"

  "Off the record—as in, it never happened. Got it?"

  "What never happened?" Alex asked facetiously.

  "Good. I'll text you my address. Parking's crap around here just to warn you. You'll have to walk a block or two."

  "Sure, no problem. Thanks, Fleshman."

  "I told you to call me Nick."

  "Okay. See you soon, Nick." Alex ended the call and backed everything up on the cloud before powering down his laptop. Fleshman—Nick—was actually going to hear him out. It was strange to call him by his first name—it was like calling one of his old teachers by their name. But maybe if they were equals, he'd be able to convince Nick to take what they'd found out about the other kidnappings. Alex was growing more convinced they were all connected the longer he spent looking at the cold cases.

  His phone buzzed with the text—Nick's address. Alex slid on his coat, put the phone in a pocket, and stuck his laptop in the case. He grabbed his keys from the desk and headed downstairs. His parents sat in the kitchen, drinking coffee, yet looking exhausted.

  "Going somewhere?" Dad rubbed his eyes.

  Meeting Fleshman never happened. He thought quickly for a cover story. "I'm meeting… a friend to look deeper into the cold cases."

  "Didn't the cops say that was a dead end?" Mom clung to her coffee mug.

  "They just don't think there's enough dots to connect yet. I know there are."

  "Anything we can do?" Dad asked.

  Alex shrugged. "I appreciate you posting about it on your blog."

  He frowned. "It reminds me of the early days, posting about Macy's disappearance."

  "It helped then," Alex said. "I'm sure it'll help now. I gotta run."

  "Do you want to take my car?" Mom asked. "It's probably more reliable."

  "Mine's fine." Alex hurried outside and plugged Nick's address into the ancient GPS unit. It wasn't too far away. He planned what he would say to convince the captain as he drove—he didn't want to forget a thing.

  Alex had to park a block and a half away from the entrance to Nick's complex. He held the laptop case close and hurried to the condo, using the extra time to think more
on what he would say to the captain.

  Nick answered, wearing a black Nirvana t-shirt and blue track pants. His brows came together as he stared at Alex's face. "What happened to you?"

  "Some people didn't want me at the candlelight vigil. I'm fine."

  "Tell me you didn't hit back."

  "I didn't. I hit first."

  Nick swore. "We talked about this. You—"

  "We talked about not hitting the kidnapper. These people came after me. I was peacefully attending my daughter's vigil."

  "I hope so. Come on in." Nick took a deep breath and stood back, allowing Alex inside.

  He stepped inside the mostly-bare entry. Everything was white—the walls, ceiling, the tile flooring. "Nice place."

  "Wife got everything in the divorce." He led him to the equally sparse living room and gestured toward a faded brown leather couch with mismatched throw pillows on each end. "Beer or pop? I also have instant coffee and energy drinks."

  A beer sounded so good, especially after everything he'd been through in the last day. "Beer."

  "Exactly what I was thinking."

  Alex sat, sinking deeper into the couch than expected, while Nick grabbed a couple bottles from the fridge—the one thing decorated in the place. It was full of children's drawings and paintings. Nick closed the door and pulled out a bag of chips from the pantry.

  He tossed Alex a bottle and then opened the chips, setting it on the scratched glass coffee table. "Whatcha got?" Nick grabbed a handful of chips.

  "First, what did those photo guys say?"

  "It was altered." Nick twisted the cap off his beer. "Pretty obvious job. Nothing to worry about. Did you find anything new with the cold cases?"

  Alex set his laptop up on the coffee table and turned it on. "There are a lot of small similarities between the cases. I—"

  "Right. That's why I gave you what I had."

  "But there's enough of them to make a difference."

  "Yeah, but we need something big. The FBI looked into it, but they couldn't find anything convincing. Now they have their attention elsewhere. The hotline is getting hundreds of leads every day. We need to convince them this is worth looking into, and they have me so busy with other stuff, I don't have time."