Chapter Twenty-seven
Jason
I glance over at Maya as she makes a disgruntled sound.
It’s not the first or even the twentieth one she’s made in the last thirty minutes since I sent Victor and Andrés into the kitchen to make us some food.
None of us are hungry, too worried about where Dani is, but I know we need to take care of ourselves.
“Everything okay?”
“What?” Maya glances up, blinking at me. “Was I making noises again?”
I nod. “Yeah, but that’s okay. It’s cute.”
She scoffs. “I’m not sure if the word cute has ever been used to describe me before. I’m just getting a little frustrated. I haven’t found anything yet. I know it’s a long shot, but…”
“But you were hoping. Yeah, I think we’re all hoping you’ll find something.” I sigh, running a hand through my messy hair. It’s been down for days and hasn’t been brushed, so it’s practically a bird’s nest at this point.
I’m sure we all look messy as fuck since none of us has showered since Dani disappeared. That’s going to need to change if she’s gone much longer. I can already imagine the look on her face if she came home to us having not showered for a week or more.
She would not be amused.
“Come sit with me?” Maya pats the spot beside her, and I immediately abandon the armchair and book I was pretending to read.
I lower myself onto the cushion beside her, hesitating before laying my arm across the back of the couch behind her. She doesn’t protest, so I relax.
“What have you checked so far?”
Maya shrugs. “I’ve been going through her Behind the Lens channel, seeing if anyone has been sending her inappropriate messages.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Either she deletes them as soon as they come in, or she’s somehow curated her subscribers so well she doesn’t get them.” She snorts. “I get at least five a day. I don’t know how she manages to get none.”
“Well, if that was a bust, what next? Social media?”
Maya types something on her computer before turning to glance at me.
“She only had a private profile on one of the apps. She doesn’t even have any photos on it because she doesn’t want it associated with her camming.
I’m not even friends with her on it—separation of parts of her life or something like that.
She explained it to me once, and really, I don’t need to be her friend on social media if I’m friends with her in real life, so I never pressed. ”
She presses a few buttons before a site comes up with the username and password already populated.
“Well, that makes it easy,” I joke as she hits the sign-in button.
We quickly find that she doesn’t use the profile much. She hasn’t made a post in almost a year, although she’s been tagged in a lot of posts by a guy named Gary Monroe.
“Is that the ex?” I ask, pointing to the screen, and she nods.
“I hate that fucking guy,” she says with a shiver.
“He’s always given me the creeps, but Dani always says she enjoys having someone who knew her back in high school.
He transferred to her college in the spring semester.
She said something happened at the school, but it sounded sus, so I called and after a little playacting, I found out he just requested a transfer. ”
I frown. “That is weird. Why wouldn’t he just tell her that?”
“Would you want to admit to your ex that you transferred schools to be closer to her? Especially after she’s already told you she doesn’t want to be anything more than friends?”
I wince. “Fuck. I definitely wouldn’t want to be anywhere near her, but I can see your point. That wouldn’t be something he wants to admit. But if he’s willing to move to a different college to be near her, what else is he willing to do?”
Could Gary be Dani’s stalker? Changing colleges to be near her seems like stalker behavior to me.
Maya’s eyes widen. “You don’t think that he could be…”
“I mean, we don’t have any other leads. Maybe if we tug at this string, we’ll find something? Or maybe we won’t, but we won’t know until we try, will we?”
She nods slowly as she continues to click around the site. “Yeah, you’re right.”
I lean my head against her shoulder, watching as she checks various things. I don’t do much social media—I pay someone to do that shit for me—so I’m not overly familiar with the site, meaning I’m not sure exactly what she’s looking for.
When she gasps, I sit up and lean closer to look at the screen. “What?”
“These are all messages from Gary,” she says, scrolling through pages and pages of unanswered messages. “These go back years. Maybe this is why she doesn’t use it.”
“That’s definitely weird, but is it enough for the cops to look into him?”
She sighs. “No. Probably not. Okay, well, that was mostly a bust. Let’s check her emails.
I already checked the account she uses for school and the one for Behind the Lens, but there’s a different address listed as a recovery email for those.
I don’t know if she has the password saved, but it’s worth a shot. ”
Maya pulls up a popular email provider, and this, I’m more versed in, as it’s what I use for my email too.
As soon as she types in the email address, the password populates, and we let out a sigh of relief.
Maya flips through the inbox, finding mostly junk mail.
Although there’s something from her high school saying they’re already planning the ten-year reunion for her class—which seems weird since that’s still four years out, but what do I know?
I certainly didn’t attend any of my reunions and have zero desire to attend any in the future.
Maya runs her hand over her face, trying to mask her frustration at finding nothing here, but doing a piss-poor job of it. She’s just about to close out of the account when something catches my attention.
I shoot my hand out and grab her arm. “Wait.”
“What?” she asks as I lean closer with a frown.
“That folder right there.” I point to the screen. “It seems to have a lot of unread messages, but it’s not one of the folders the provider sets up.”
She hums, clicking on it. Her eyes go wide when it reveals there are over 2,000 unread messages in the folder. “Holy shit.”
“What?” I ask even as I lean in once more, my eyes catching on the sender of the emails. “No fucking way.”
“Fucking Gary,” she mutters, going back to the start of the emails and clicking on the first one, which appears to be one of two that have been opened.
Danielle,
I know you said we couldn’t be together anymore, and I respect your choice to focus on school. Thank you for still being willing to be my friend. I love you so much, and I know we’re meant to be together. I have no problem in allowing you time to find yourself before you come back to me.
I hope you don’t mind my emailing you like this. There are just some things that are hard to say to you out loud and sending them to you via email makes it so much easier.
Love always, Gary
She backs out and clicks on the other one that’s been opened.
Danielle,
You looked beautiful today. That dress looks like it was made for you. I know you asked for some space, so I made sure not to approach you.
I hope that by the fall, you’ll have had all the time you need for yourself. But if not, don’t worry, I’ll always be here waiting.
Love always, Gary
“That’s creepy as fuck,” I say, shaking my head.
“What’s creepy?” Victor asks, leaning over the back of the couch.
Maya gestures to the screen of her laptop. “Dani’s ex, Gary, has been emailing her since they broke up in high school. We’ve only read the first two, but he sounds fucked in the head.”
“Open some of the later ones. If they still have the same tone, then this is something we can bring to the police.”
She nods, pressing the mouse a few times before opening another email that’s dated around the time Dani would’ve started college.
Danielle,
I love how you thought you could keep the college you’re attending a secret from me. You did for a little while, but now I know. Even though the first semester has barely started, I’ve already requested a transfer. Don’t worry, we’ll be together again soon.
Love always, Gary
“Yeah, fuck this shit.” Victor snatches the laptop out of Maya’s hands. “We’re not reading any more of these. Gary’s a fucking stalker. We need to get this to the police now.”
“Get what to the police?” Andrés asks as he joins us. “Dinner’s ready, by the way. Victor was supposed to be letting you all know.”
Maya laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “Yeah, dinner will have to wait. We’ll explain everything to you on the way to the police station.”
Andrés looks adorably confused as he glances between the three of us, but just shrugs and follows us out the door.
This has to be enough for them to look into Gary.
Surely, he has to be the one who has her, right? Because if he doesn’t, then that means she has two stalkers, and I don’t know how the hell to deal with that.