Samantha Sanderson Without a Trace (9 page)

“Honey?” Even Mom sounded concerned about his reaction.

“I'm sorry, it's just that the task force has been monitoring that particular message board for several weeks now and what they've found is not good.”

“What do you mean, Dad?” Because there had to be a connection between the board and Tam, or the sheriff's deputy wouldn't have asked Darby about it. “Bad how?”

Dad slowly set his pizza on his plate. “They've linked at least two child predators to that specific location. One has already been arrested by an undercover team, but the other one, they haven't been able to catch yet.”

Sam's heart slipped to her toes. The pizza seemed to churn in her stomach.

“You haven't been in there, have you, Sam?” Dad asked.

She shook her head, unable to speak because her tongue felt five sizes too big.

“Have you, Makayla?” Sam's mom asked.

“No, ma'am.”

“Then why do you look so pale, Sam?” Dad stared hard at her, so hard she wanted to squirm.

She had the worst taste in her mouth that almost made her sick, and for once, she couldn't keep information for her story and not share it with her father. This was about Tam and it could be linked to his disappearance. “Dad, the deputy working Tam's case asked someone about that message board and two specific screen names. I guess maybe they're connected.”

“What are the screen names?” The way the lines around Dad's eyes deepened . . . his entire expression was weighted in concern.

“A
mathhater
and
tutorcool
. Do you know anything about them?”

If possible, his face paled by a whole other shade. Or two.

“Dad?”

He shook his head. “I don't recognize the name
mathhater
.”

Sam's tongue felt raw like the time she'd taken a sip of her hot chocolate before it cooled. “How could they think this relates to Tam? His screen name is
Tamaton
.
He can't be
mathhater
, Dad. Tam's super smart, especially in math.” It just didn't make sense.

“I don't know, Sam.”

“What about
tutorcool
? Do you recognize that screen name?” she asked.

He glanced at her mom.

“Dad, come on. I'm trusting you with information I found out. Isn't that what you wanted me to do—bring important stuff directly to you?” She needed to know about this. It was that important.

Her mom looked at her dad. “She has a point.” Mom smiled at Sam and Makayla, then looked back at Sam's dad. “They're mature enough to understand.”

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “The other predator we've been looking at is
tutorcool
.”

Fear lodged in the back of her throat, but she forced her voice to remain steady. “A predator in what way?”

“He's been on that board and a few others, talking to kids by posing as a college freshman who tutors middle and high school kids.” Dad's voice sounded squeaky almost, not as steady and calm like usual.

“But he isn't?” Makayla asked.

“Not hardly. As best as the task force can determine, he's in his late thirties or early forties, probably divorced and has employment. The profile built on him is that he possibly works night security someplace. His tracked activity online seems to be late afternoon to early evening, when middle grade kids are online.”

“Aside from lying about being older than he really is, what does he do that's so bad?” Sam needed to know. If Tam was possibly connected to this guy . . .
God, please don't let Tam be involved with him.

Dad sighed and stared at Sam's mom. She gave a little nod of her head. Dad sighed again. “We believe he is responsible for the attempted abduction of three children in the surrounding area.”

“How old are the kids?” Makayla asked.

“All are in middle school. A sixth grader and two seventh graders.”

Same age as them. Sam wanted to throw up. “Did he kidnap them?”

“No. But he tried.”

“Dad, tell me.” Tears burned the back of Sam's eyelids, but she didn't care. She'd come this far, she needed to know the truth.
God, please not Tam. Please don't let Tam be with this bad man.

“Independently, this guy attempted to abduct three boys. According to the boys' reports, they met this guy on the message board, talking about tutoring.”

“Wouldn't the parents have been involved with tutoring?” Sam's mother asked.

Dad shook his head. “All three had gotten in trouble for their grades in math, so they sought out someone to help them without their parents knowing.”

Sam nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She could understand a kid wanting to bring up their
grades without telling their parents about a tutor. But this couldn't apply to Tam. He certainly wouldn't need tutoring. He
was
a tutor. Maybe the deputy was way off base. She met Makayla's stare and recognized the fear mirrored in her eyes. Tam couldn't be involved with this guy.

Dad continued. “Even with the information from the boys, the unit hasn't been able to find the man.”

“So he's still out there, preying on kids?” Sam was almost afraid to ask, but she had to. She had to know.

“Yes.” Dad's voice sounded tight.

“And the police are pretty sure this
tutorcool
is responsible for the kidnapping attempts?” Makayla asked, her voice a much higher pitch than usual.

Dad took a sip of his water. “They think it's one possibility. There are many other possibilities in that case, from what I understand.”

Sam took a drink of her water, ignoring her pizza. She couldn't have eaten anything now even if she were starving. “Dad, can you find out if they think Tam was on that message board and has a connection to
tutorcool
? Please. They had to ask for a reason and I'm really worried.” Scared out of her mind was more like it, but she wasn't going to go there right now. She couldn't. If she let her imagination start with this . . . well, there was no telling where it all would end.

He frowned. “Pumpkin, I know you're worried about your friend, but—”

“Charles, what would it hurt for you just to see if Tam's name is listed on anything having to do with that message board or user? It's not like you're interfering in anyone's investigation.” Sam's mom balled her napkin tightly and set it on top of her half-eaten piece of pizza.

Sam chewed the inside of her bottom lip.

“I'll see what I can find out.” Dad looked at Sam. “I won't be able to tell you much, even if I look into it. And what I do find out, you cannot print or post. Understand?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Dad stood and carried his paper plate to the trash. “I'll let you know after I talk to some of the other task force detectives.”

Jumping up, Sam rushed over and hugged her father. Hard. “Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too, pumpkin. Now, why don't you and Makayla go ahead and get your showers out of the way? You do have school tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” Sam turned to Makayla. “You go ahead and go first. I'll help Mom clean up, then take Chewy out.”

Makayla nodded and handed her plate to Sam, then headed toward Sam's room.

“Thanks, Mom, for getting Dad to look into it for me.”

Sam's mom put pizza from the box into a plastic container. “I know you're worried about your friend, Sam. This is more than just investigative reporting. This
is personal because it involves someone you know and like. This is when being a reporter gets tough.”

“What do you mean?” Sam threw the paper products away and grabbed the dish towel.

“Reporting on something when it involves someone you care about . . . it's hard to remain objective. Neutral. To report the facts.” Sam's mother sealed the container and stuck it in the refrigerator. “It's tough when your own emotions are in play.”

“I need to write an article about the assembly today. I just don't know what to say.” Sam opened the door for the dog. Chewy darted outside into the evening, barking at a squirrel that scurried up a tree. “Everybody at school was at the assembly so they heard it all firsthand. Not too much of a scoop there.”

“Look at it from a different angle. Was there something that was hinted at, but not announced? Something maybe you could explain?”

“Not really. They didn't talk about too much. They just confirmed Tam was missing, which I'd already posted on the school's blog, and asked for everyone to write something on the index cards.” Sam went on to explain to her mother the process that happened during the assembly. “Now, I did learn something after the fact,” Sam admitted.

Mom raised her left eyebrow. “Do tell.”

Sam leaned against the counter and told her mother about the note. “But I guess I can't mention that, huh?”

“That depends . . . were you told not to mention anything about what you saw or heard in the office?”

“No, ma'am.” Sam started to feel a spark of excitement burning in her chest.

“Did the deputy realize that you saw the note?”

Sam remembered the ugly look he'd given her, then how he'd snatched up the note. “I'm pretty certain.”

“And even after he realized you saw it, he didn't tell you not to say anything?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Did he know you were with the press?”

“Well . . . I asked Mrs. Trees for more information for the school paper right in front of the deputies.”

Mom pressed her lips together until they formed a tight line.

Sam smiled. “You think it's okay for me to print about it, don't you?”

“I can't tell you how to investigate or report, Sam.” But Mom smiled.

“Thanks, Mom.” Sam really appreciated how Mom helped her see all the sides to reporting, but left the decision on how to do it up to Sam.

“Sam.” Mom tilted her head toward the kitchen door. “Chewy wants back in.”

“Thanks.” Sam opened the door and let Chewy back inside.

“And feed the cat.”

Sam resisted groaning and did as her mother asked,
using the time to let her mind begin to form the article she'd write. Maybe she wouldn't reveal exactly what was written in the note, just hint at it. Feed the suspense and make people anxious to read the next article she wrote.

She bounded into her room where a pajama-clad Makayla sat in front of her makeup mirror applying face cream. “Got a lot to tell you, but let me take a quick shower first.” Sam grabbed her clothes from her top drawer.

“Okay, but hurry,” Makayla said.

In less than fifteen minutes, Sam stood in her room, using a towel to rub over her wet hair, and relayed her conversation with her mother to her best friend.

“Well, it's a good thing your mom kinda let you know it was okay, because you know when you print anything about that note, Mrs. Trees is going to have a hissy fit.” Makayla carefully braided her hair for bed.

Sam laughed, despite the circumstances. “What, exactly, is a hissy fit? I mean, everyone always says that, but I've never seen one.”

“Just watch Mrs. Trees when she reads your article.”

Sam laughed, but knew exactly what her best friend meant. “I just can't imagine Tam visiting Internet locations that aren't monitored by trusted adults. He helped build the safe list we posted on the school's blog.” Sam plopped down on the foot of her bed, her oversize comb in her hand. Her mind was as matted
as her hair. When wet, the long, dark brown strands looked almost black. “It just makes no sense.”

“I know.” Makayla turned and faced Sam. “I'm not going to lie, Sam, I'm scared for Tam. Especially after hearing what your dad told us.”

“Me, too.” Sam moved to her desk and accessed the school's newspaper blog entry page. “That's why it's so important to get as much information out as soon as we can. To see if there are any leads.” She began typing up the article she'd written in her mind during her shower.

—This reporter has it on good authority that Tam Lee had a secret meeting planned with a certain student on the day he went missing. Sound Off, Senators: if you were the student set to meet Tam, or know anything about it, you're encouraged to contact the Pulaski County Sheriff's Office immediately. ~Sam Sanderson, reporting

“Sam?” Dad knocked on her bedroom door.

“Yes, sir?” Sam plopped onto her bed beside Makayla.

He stepped in the doorway and leaned against the doorframe, Mom beside him with her arm around his waist. “They've issued an AMBER Alert for Tam.” Dad's face was grim. “It was just on the news.”

Sam felt sick again. “So they finally believe he's not a runaway?”

“They're covering all the angles.” It was what he didn't say that made Sam's stomach tighten like the first time she rode the X-Coaster at Magic Springs.

“What about that message board, Dad?”

He pulled out her desk chair and took a seat. Mom joined Sam and Makayla on the bed. “I talked to the task force supervisor. Sam, this is totally off the record. I mean it, not even a hint of what I'm about to tell you. It is an open, ongoing investigation and right now, it is critical not to say anything. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “They tracked Tam's online history on his computer. Tuesday, he went into the site under the name
mathhater
. He had one conversation with
cooltutor
that was recorded, but they couldn't find a private chat between them.”

Tears burned the back of Sam's eyes, but she couldn't cry in front of her father. He'd never shared so much information with her before, and she would not allow her emotions to make him regret it. Nor would she betray his trust and write about this.

But she was terrified. “What does that mean?”