Promise You Won't Tell?

Chapter 14

When Rick opens the door and sees Dillon standing beside me, his face drops. 

It drops even further when he hears I want Dillon to access his computer.

“My parents aren’t here,” he says.

“In that case, there’s no one to interrupt us,” I say.

Dillon sits at Rick’s desk, makes a derogatory remark about the archaic keyboard, then starts clicking keys. Watching Dillon at work is like watching a master. Within seconds, his fingers are a blur. Ramsey Lewis couldn’t do better work with a keyboard.

It takes him two minutes to find out the “friend” who forwarded Riley’s photo is Nathan Cain, the guy Rick supposedly overheard in the lunch room.

“I can explain,” Rick says. 

“Let’s talk in the hall,” I say, knowing Dillon can work more effectively if Rick isn’t looking over his shoulder.

He glances nervously at Dillon, who takes the cue and gets up from Rick’s computer, crosses the room, sits on the side of Rick’s bed, as if planning to wait there till we return. 

I secretly press a button on the cell phone in my jeans pocket while escorting Rick out of the room. Then raise it an inch out of my pocket so the speaker can pick up our conversation. This way Dillon can hear everything Rick and I say, and Rick won’t hear Dillon typing on his keyboard. 

“Tell me about Nathan,” I say, leading Rick down the hall.

“He’s not really my friend,” Rick says. “I exaggerated that part.”

“You said he wasn’t involved.”

“That’s what he told me.”

“Then how could he send you the picture?”

“Nathan said Ethan and Ronnie took nude pictures of Riley with their cell phones. That night in the car, the guys believed them. But by Monday everyone doubted their story. So Ethan and Ronnie texted some of the photos to their closest friends and told them to keep it quiet. But who could keep that type of secret? It became a status symbol to have the pictures, so I begged Nathan to send me one.”

“And he did.”

“Yeah, but it cost me fifty bucks. And, he sent me the one where she was dressed.”

“I don’t believe this!” I say.

“What?”

“You paid him for a photo after I talked to you.”

He looks down at the floor. Then says, “Like I said, it turned into a status symbol.”

“And you’d do anything to fit in.”

“Don’t judge me. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“If you’ve got a photo, the pictures must be all over the school by now.”

“That’s a cruel thing to say.”

“Whine all you like. I’m disappointed in you, Rick.”

“Of course you are. Why wouldn’t you be? I’m a loser. Ask anyone.”

“Don’t lay that on me. It’s a copout.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you’re a loser it’s because you’re acting like one. Get a grip. You want to change your status? Change your behavior.”

A sound comes from my cell phone. It’s Dillon, shouting, “Eureka!”

Rick and I go back to his room.

“You found the pictures?” I say.

“No, but they’re being sent even as we speak,” Dillon says.

“Explain.”

“When I heard Rick say he paid Nathan fifty bucks for a photo, I live-chatted with Nathan. He’s sending me the rest of the pictures.”

Rick says, “Why would he send them to you?”

“I used your email account. He thought he was talking to you.”

“Why would he send me the photos?”

“You offered to pay him a thousand dollars for them.”

“What? I don’t have that kind of money!”

“Then I guess you’re screwed.”

Rick looks at his computer screen, terrified and excited at the same time.

“Don’t look here for them,” Dillon says. “They’re being sent to a disposable phone.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Rick says.

Dillon places a cheap cell phone next to the one he was using to take my call. “These are pre-paid cell phones,” Dillon says. “They’re anonymous.” 

He points to the second one. “I gave Nathan this number and told him it was yours. Except I don’t know what’s taking so long.”

Rick says, “Dani, I don’t have a thousand bucks! What am I gonna do when Nathan asks for the money? He’s gonna kill me!”

I say, “Buy some time. Tell him you can’t go to the bank till Friday to get the cash. By Friday, getting paid will be the last thing on Nathan’s mind.” 

“What do you mean?”

“When he sends those photos, he’ll be trafficking underage porn.”

We stand around, twiddling our thumbs for five minutes.

“Something’s wrong,” Dillon says. “I can feel it.”

He punches out a text message, presses the “send” button, and says, “I just asked him to hurry up.”

Another five minutes pass, then the phone vibrates. 

“Finally!” I say.

He picks the phone up, checks the screen, says, “Shit.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone got to him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nathan just sent a message. Said there are no other pictures of Riley.”

“Read me his exact words.”

Dillon reads, “There are no other pictures, asshole. I was joking.”

I shake my head.

“You’re right,” I say. “Ethan called him. I shouldn’t have confronted him. I tipped my hand.”

 “Not your fault,” Dillon says. “You didn’t know about the pictures when you talked to him.”

I give Rick a withering look. “If you would have told me about the pictures yesterday, I could have used that to our advantage.”

 “We still can,” Dillon says. “It’s just that we won’t have the element of surprise.”

 “How?”

 “If they were ever taken on a cell phone, we can find them. Eventually.”