Chapter Seventeen: Greg

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Solomon and Greg were staring at his phone, looking for subtext and clues in the message Solomon had received. "I got nothing," Solomon said.

They angled Greg's computer screen upward so they could read it while they paced. The video feed was clear enough, and they recognized Francine. There was a timer in the bottom right with a countdown that ended in just over two days.

"We've got a serial killer in the making," Greg said.

Solomon nodded.

The two walked his phone down to the tech department. A kid named Kevin took the phone and asked a few questions. He made some calls, read out the return number for the phone that had sent Solomon messages, and came back. "It's a burner. Bought with cash out of state. Only this morning."

"Can you tell us where this suspect was when they sent the text? Can we trace the phone?" Solomon asked.

"Not right now. We're working on it," Kevin responded. "Phone went dead as soon as the second text was sent."

"And the website? Can we trace the source of the video?" Greg asked.

"Not soon enough," Kevin replied. "Not today, not tomorrow. There will be layers of security we can't crack soon enough. Not before the countdown is done."

"What's our move?" Greg asked.

"We don't sit on this," Solomon said. "The link has a few dozen hits. People have seen it. People also think it is fake. Eventually, someone's going to make the connection to the missing persons report."

"Or he's going to leak it," Greg said.

"We need to tell the captain, and we need to narrow down where we are looking right now. And someone needs to shut that fucking site down before any of this happens."

"You're with us, kid," Solomon said.

"But, the lieutenant. I've got a pile."

"You've got nothing," Solomon said, walking away. "Bring your laptop."

Kevin stood and followed, awkwardly carrying his open laptop.

Greg and the two went up the three floors to the captain's office. Her door was closed. Solomon peeked through the mostly opaque glass door and saw that she was speaking with Lisa. Solomon opened the door.

"Excuse me, Detective Kellogg?" Captain Bell said, standing. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Show her," Greg said, pointing at Kevin. Kevin put his computer on the captain's desk.

"We found Francine," Solomon said. "And we have a problem."

The captain was silent as she read through the page. After a pause, she spoke. "Oh, fuck. Who knows?"

"Just us. I don't think anyone who has viewed the site has made the connection. The perp sent me a text with the link."

"Has he sent it to anyone else?" Captain Bell asked.

"No," Greg responded. "Not that we know of. Used a burner. Can't trace him. Kevin is going to need help tracing the video feed."

"Who's Kevin?" Captain Bell asked.

"Oh, hi," Kevin said, waving. "I'm your point person on the eJusticeNY platform."

"Don't wave," Greg said, shaking his head. Kevin put his hand down. "He's a kid with a computer, and now he works for us."

"Does he even work for the department?" Captain Bell asked.

"Technically I am a contractor. I work for the vendor." Kevin ran his hand awkwardly through his hair. "Technically, I am the vendor. I was doing an onsite today."

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