Chapter 105
Him
He stares at the boy standing by the red plastic chairs, talking like he thinks he’s some kind of news reporter, except the cameraman is a little girl with an iPhone. Then he zooms out, clocks another short kid, and that asshole Garrett who called him a pervert.
He’s not surprised they’re here, following Maple’s scent, just like he is. But it irks him all the same, like they’re trying to claim Maple when she belongs to him.
He watches a kid in uniform walk up to Dylan, and there’s something about their furtive conversation that makes him curious.
So a minute later, with the kid gone, and the others heading out, he’s not sure what to do.
Stay at the bus station a while longer, talk to the people the police never bother with?
Or follow that family and find out what they know?
But then it hits him. Whatever Dylan has discovered, it’ll be on TikTok in minutes. Sharing their lives on social media is ingrained in kids like him.
Decision made, he turns, walks toward the smaller, dingier back exit, his head down and pace steady. There will still be police around, asking questions, looking interested, and he’d prefer to stay out of their line of sight.
He leans against the outside wall and checks his phone.
There it is. A new TikTok from Dylan Dope.
But his hands get sweaty as he watches it, hearing Dylan call the guy Maple left with very dangerous.
Could Dylan be talking about him? Are the police stupid enough to think that him sending the mom a few messages, scheming a little, means he stole Maple from a bus station?
Or is there someone else in the frame?
Dylan’s face disappears from the screen, but it’s replaced by a photo of CCTV footage, with text overlaid asking if anyone recognizes the man. He pushes his forefinger and thumb to take a photo, then spreads his fingers across the screen to zoom in.
There’s Maple, looking tired, but also beautiful, because she is so damn beautiful.
And there’s the guy. The bastard who took her.
He’s wearing a Las Vegas Raiders cap, which feels like a weird coincidence, except not really, because half of Vegas supports the local football team like he does.
The cap’s down low, so even magnified, he can’t see much, but maybe there’s something about the guy that looks familiar. Maybe.
‘Got any change, man?’
He looks down at a man in dirty jeans, and a Hawaiian shirt, sitting against the wall, his legs splayed out in a V.
Then he crouches down. He’s not rich by any count, but now he’s kicked the booze, the drugs; he’s got enough spare cash to bribe a homeless man.
He gives the guy a ten-dollar bill. ‘Do you hang out around the bus station a lot?’ he asks.
The guy shrugs, takes the cash. ‘Most days, yeah.’
He holds his phone out. ‘Do you recognize this man?’
The guy peers at the screen, scrunching his face. ‘Nah, don’t think so. Who is he?’
He considers his answer, decides on the truth. ‘He kidnapped a girl. She’s fourteen.’
‘Fucking cunt,’ the guy mutters. ‘Sorry I can’t help.’ Then his eyes narrow. ‘I don’t know him, but I feel like I know you.’ He scratches his chin. ‘Have we met before?’
Heat rises in his cheeks. Fuck. He needs to cut the guy off, because yeah, there’s a chance he has. ‘I doubt it,’ he says. ‘I’ve not been in Vegas long. But I appreciate your sentiment, because that’s exactly what the guy is.’
The homeless man nods like he’s processing, then finally speaks. ‘Yeah, okay. Message received. I’m Todd, by the way.’
‘Nice to meet you, Todd.’
Todd nods a bit longer, then pushes to standing. ‘You know what, come with me.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘The one thing being homeless gives you,’ Todd says, ‘is plenty of time to watch the world go by. If your guy lives in Vegas, one of my buddies might recognize him. Come on.’