“And a lot of times these guys will put in fake names and addresses or what have you, but normally we can trace back to the computer being used and find them in their house.”
“Normally?” Frank said. “I take that to mean this isn’t normal.”
“Yeah,” Blanco said. “Sometimes they’ll slip up and host the site on an IPS with other sites they own. A lot of times they’ll try for a PO box or some such. But again, those just cause delays. They’re hurdles we can jump over.” He checked his notes. “The name on the account and the address are fake. Looks like he paid a year in advance, possibly with a Visa prepaid money card, which is untraceable when purchased with cash. We’re still working on that. He’s apparently using a CMS, allowing him to add content from anywhere, and is most likely using public terminals to access the site.”
“And,” Grayson said, “there’s no e-mail on this Web site.”
“Right. Sometimes these guys will use disposable, untraceable e-mail accounts, where they keep rotating and dumping. A lot of times we can get them on that if they slip up in any of the steps getting those, but there is nothing on the Web site. Whoever this is, they don’t want anyone contacting them.”
“So where are we at?” Frank asked.
“Well, first we thought the guy, or perhaps lady, was running a Freenet node. Won’t go into all that, but basically that’s where you’ll find a lot of these child porn guys going. We’re still confirming, but it looks like what he’s done is selected a registrar and host that is out of our jurisdiction.”
“Meaning,” Grayson said, “he’s gone to a foreign country.”
“That’s right. Possibly China. My international contacts tell me that China’s hot for these kinds of things right now. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to bury his or her identity.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We’ll keep monitoring it, see if this guy makes a mistake. If this were a terrorist group, the CIA would get involved, send agents overseas, and hunt this provider down. Unfortunately, in this case, our hands are tied. This guy hasn’t sent any notes or threats, has he? to the paper or here at the station?”
“No,” Grayson said.
“Too bad. That’s usually where we can get someone like this.” Blanco got up. “I’ll keep an eye on this from my end, contact you if anything develops or we see a possible crack we can climb in. You might contact the National White Collar Crime Center. They might be able to help you with the international angle.”
The captain stood, prompting Frank to. “Well, Gary, thanks for your time. We appreciate the state stepping in to help.”
“Sure,” Blanco said. Frank offered his hand. “Best of luck to you guys. This is a little crazy. Never seen anything like it.”
Kay heard the back door open as she slid the chicken potpie casserole out of the oven. She’d spent the rest of the day taking her frustrations out by baking like a madwoman. Cakes. Cookies. Scones. And a casserole. She set it on the counter and turned just as Damien walked into the kitchen. She immediately noticed his somber body language. “Babe, you okay?”
“Huh?”
“You all right? What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing, really,” he said, taking off his jacket. He pecked her on the cheek, then sat at the breakfast bar. “Just made Edgar mad today. Twice, actually.”
“Not ‘you’re fired’ mad?”
“No, nothing like that. He wanted me to write a piece on the kidnapping, and I did, but not the piece he wanted. I did it as an op-ed.”
“Well, you are the op-ed writer.”
“I felt like my words would serve a better purpose writing about the Web site. Trying to convince whoever is doing it to stop. I wrote a letter directly to the person.”
“I know. I’m hearing that all kinds of terrible things are happening. Fights. Tires being slashed. Windows broken out. It’s like we’re on the verge of a riot. And then with this kidnapping…” Tears stung her eyes for the fortieth time that day.
Damien hopped up and wrapped his arms around her. “You seem… sad.”
“I’m just in disbelief that those girls were involved in taking Gabby. And I’m horrified at myself that I didn’t see the signs.”
“How could you have known?” Damien asked, turning her around to face him.
“It’s a mother’s instinct. Jenna kept trying to tell me she didn’t want to hang out…” More tears. Damien swiped them and pulled her close. “And I tried to… Anyway, I think we’re back to not speaking.” Kay wanted to pour out her heart, but she wasn’t sure how. She never dreamed of telling Damien about her past. She’d not even told him why she and Angela stopped being friends. She couldn’t get herself to.
“How is she doing?”
“She doesn’t want to go to school tomorrow either, but I told her she had to. She’s doing okay, I guess. We had a good morning together, anyway. Talked a lot.” Kay smiled at the thought. “Kind of like old times.”
“Nothing like tragedy to bring people together.”
“I just keep picturing… I see Jenna out there, tied to that tree…”
Damien stroked her cheek. “Look, we’re all here. Everyone’s here, right? Hunter too?”
Kay nodded.
“We’re all here and safe and together.” He pointed to the casserole. “And chicken potpie casserole? You haven’t made that in a long time.”
“It’s Jenna’s favorite.”
“Where is she?”
“Her cell phone rang. She answered it and went upstairs. Can you grab the butter out of the fridge?”
He opened the door, digging beyond the yogurt and milk.
“Oh, and Frank’s coming over. He just called. Wanted to have dinner here.”
Damien emerged from the fridge with the butter as Kay poured the green beans into a bowl. “We’ve got to get Frank dating again.”
“Good luck with that,” Kay said. She walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Time to eat!”
The doorbell rang. Damien smiled. “Must be Frank, right on time.”
Kay poured the water into glasses as she listened to the kids hurry down the stairs. She hadn’t heard that kind of enthusiasm for dinner in a while.
Hunter arrived first, followed closely by Jenna. “Potpie casserole?” She grinned. “My favorite!”
“Ugh. Did you put peas in it?” Hunter asked Kay.
“Just a few.”
Kay couldn’t keep her eyes off Jenna, who looked up again and offered another smile. Softer. As if there were a lot of good words behind those lips. Kay smiled back and continued serving while holding back a few tears that wanted to escape out of sheer relief her daughter didn’t hate her.
Damien rounded the corner, followed by Frank.
“Hey, Uncle Frank!” Hunter stood to give him a sideways hug.
“Hey, gang,” Frank said, plopping down in his usual chair. “Thanks for feeding me.”
Kay set a plate in front of him. “You look exhausted.”
“Yeah. Long day.”
Hunter asked, “Have they arrested the girls?”
Kay started the casserole around. “Let’s not talk about that tonight.”
“It’s okay,” Jenna said, grabbing a roll. “Not talking about it doesn’t make it go away. A wise uncle told me that.” She smiled at Frank.
Kay nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“No charges have been filed yet. But they’re coming. The DA has to put the case together, but we’ve got more than enough evidence.”
Frank served himself the casserole, but Kay noticed he wasn’t eating. Normally he just started digging in.
“Frank? Not hungry?” Kay passed him the green beans.
“Well,” Frank said, “there is another reason I’m here.”