“No idea where she was headed?”
“Not a clue.” The line buzzed with a long silence. “Can’t we get her phone records?” Cassidy asked. “Her dad should have no trouble with that one.”
“No. He already explained it. She has an independent plan.”
“So? He’s Preston Ford.”
“Apparently that makes no difference. The laws are too restrictive.”
“C’mon, what am I supposed to do now?” Cassidy groaned, thinking through all the facts. “It’s a miracle I even traced her to Bend. And now, she could be anywhere.”
Richard sighed. “I understand your frustration, Cassidy,” he said in a strained voice. “Mr. Ford seems to think she’ll surface. All we need to do is be prepared to pick her up and bring her back safely.”
“So, I’m just supposed to sit here and wait for a sign?” Cassidy asked, realizing that her voice was carrying across the parking lot. Two people sharing an outside table had turned to look at her.
“Just give it a little more time.”
“What if she’s halfway to Mexico?”
“The department will pay for your expenses.”
“That’s what you think I’m worried about?” Cassidy cried. It was getting too hot to sit in her car any longer, even in the shade, so she jumped out and stood with her back to the café. “My flight for Kilauea leaves in twenty-four hours, Richard. Plus, I have deadlines, a lab to set up.”
“I understand,” Richard said.
Her phone chirped with another call. Cassidy checked the ID—another unfamiliar number. Her stomach fluttered again. She hugged her middle with her free arm and stretched the arches of her feet against the curb. “Okay. I still have a few phone calls to make,” Cassidy finally said. “Maybe they’ll lead to something.” Why can’t Charlie give up his work to chase Izzy down? she thought, even though she knew the answer.
After hanging up with Richard, she saw that besides the call, a text had come from Franklin:
I think Izzy’s in trouble.
Twelve
“Wait, say that again?” Cassidy said into the phone. Apparently, Izzy had posted some kind of video, but it still made no sense.
Franklin coughed loudly. “It’s . . . well, I’m pretty sure it’s Izzy. I didn’t watch all of it.”
“Why not?”
Franklin made a sound in the back of his throat, almost like a whimper. “It’s a video of her, or someone who looks like her. I’m pretty sure they’re in a hotel room, maybe.”
Cassidy frowned. “They? Franklin, what are you talking about?”
There was a long pause. “I don’t . . . I mean, it’s not like I . . . ”
“Franklin,” Cassidy snapped. “What is it?”
He smacked his lips, like he was biting them or sucking on them, or some other nervous thing he did. “She’s . . . getting it on with . . . with two guys.”
Cassidy went rigid. She blinked, trying to put this new information to use, but her brain jammed to a halt. “Wait a minute,” she said as a thousand thoughts poured into her brain. “So, like . . . what do you mean, two guys?”
“Um, pretty much like it sounds.”
Cassidy tried again to put the information to use, but everything was moving too fast. “Who is she with?”
“I don’t know. It only shows her, at least in the part I saw.”
“And you . . . ” Cassidy didn’t want to sound accusing. She tried again. “I mean, did someone send it to you?”
“Yeah. Tim Hobbs, on Snapchat.”
Cassidy frowned. To her knowledge, Tim Hobbs, an average student in every way, so much so that since driving away from field camp she had practically forgotten him, had never associated with Izzy. But Cassidy knew her knowledge only went so far.
“He gave me the URL to the rest of it, but you have to pay to see it.”
“Whoa,” Cassidy said, still stuck on trying to connect Tim Hobbs to Izzy to two guys and a hotel room.
“I didn’t watch,” Franklin said quickly. “I don’t pay for stuff.”
“Wait, I’m sorry,” Cassidy said. “Back up a little. So there’s a video of a woman who may or may not be Izzy . . . and she’s . . . involved . . . with two guys. And this video is posted somewhere you have to pay to see?”
“Uh, yeah.”
Cassidy felt a dark sense of unease overtake her. She still did not fully understand but didn’t want to veer the conversation off track with questions. He’s talking about pornography, she realized, feeling repulsed. But just as quick, her mind went to: You can watch it online? She imagined how fast something as taboo as a young college student playing around with two guys would spread—like wildfire. What a mess. Cassidy grimaced at the thought of Izzy doing something so perverted.
“Do you want me to send it to you?” Franklin asked.
“No,” Cassidy said. But then she thought it through. “Wait,” she sighed. “Maybe. I guess I need to know if it’s really her.”
Cassidy’s mind cartwheeled back to an idea she realized was waiting for her deep in the back of her mind: Charlie and Izzy together at his family’s cabin. Had Charlie invited a buddy over and the three of them had . . . Cassidy had to stop because it was too much. Her mind went to the tidy guest room with the tucked-in quilt and vacuum stripes on the carpet. “Shit,” she groaned.
Her phone chirped with Franklin’s incoming text, but Cassidy decided to look later, when she felt braver. Maybe over a beer. She had a sudden pang to be home in her spacious house where she could drink her beer as slowly as she wanted and would have all the privacy in the world.
“Who else knows about this?” she asked.
“I’m guessing half of field camp by now. I don’t know who outside of that.” Cassidy heard a ping from Franklin’s end of the line. “I just got a tweet from Andy Lloyd. He’s got it.”
“Who’s Andy Lloyd?” Cassidy asked.
“Geology Club president. He’s a junior.”
Cassidy didn’t recognize the name but unless he’d attended field camp, there
