Caleb

"Hey."

Izzy sounded... rough. Better tread lightly until he knew what was going on.

"I didn't expect to hear from you anytime soon," Caleb said. He leaned back on his pillows and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know. I'm awful."

"Sometimes," he agreed. Good thing she laughed at that. Still, his approach could use some work. "But not all the time." Move over, Casanova. "I'm sorry I've been too–"

"Smart? Understanding? Compassionate?"

Not sure he agreed but, damn, to hear her say that. "Yeah, I'm a real monster, aren't I?"

Her laugh turned with a sharp intake of breath. "No, but I am."

Incredibly poor choice of words on his part. "Izzy, you're hardly a monster. I just wish–"

"That I would explain what's going on?"

He sighed. "Something like that." He crawled across his bed, reaching over Sudo to turn off the lamp in the corner. Light from the den spilled through the open bedroom door so he wasn't in darkness. The cat whined in protest and hopped down to the floor.

"I'm trying. For real. Just give me a minute." Muffled in the background, she blew her nose. That sounded bad, but best to refrain from making assumptions without more information. He settled back against the headboard, drawing his knees up and drumming his fingers on his leg. After a moment, her voice, softer than before. "Okay, sorry." She cleared her throat. "You know it's difficult for me to talk, but the phone makes it a little easier."

"Why?" It's not like he didn't have an idea, but if she was in a mood to talk tonight, he'd rather get it out there.

"Because you smell good." Okay, didn't see that one coming. "And because your eyes are blue and your hand feels good in my hair and I thought that kissing you would help ease some of the tension, but it only made things worse."

Damn. He shifted lower on the bed, staring straight up at the ceiling. No one had ever said anything like that to him before.

"Caleb?" Quiet and breathy. She deserved a response, but for once in his life, he had no words. "You still there?" That had an edge to it.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry, I, um, didn't expect you to say that. I don't know how to respond except that I like the way your hair feels running through my fingers." He heard her quick intake of air. "And you smell like flowers and it's driving me crazy."

"I can't tell." A slight pause. "I mean, I figured you were, you know, interested. But driving you crazy? My behavior, maybe. But not like that." She hesitated before adding, "I thought it was just me."

And there it was, an admission that she felt the same way. Usually, he was good at predicting people's behavior, but with Izzy? Never. "I'm better at hiding things than you are. Some kinds of things, anyway." His fingers drummed faster, his heart thumping all the way up in his throat. "Please tell me what the problem is, Izzy." He swallowed and closed his eyes, as though that would help.

She made a little strangled sound. "I'm worried I'm cursed. Or crazy. Or both."

That one he should have expected. "Izzy–"

"Don't interrupt. Just let me get it out." And then she started talking. And talking. And talking. About her conversation with her father. About his first wife, Katherine. About her mother's dead dog and her brother's campaign speech. About Burns' threat and the missing knife. About her worries that she'd been the one who hurt Beleza. All the while he sat up straighter and straighter until he was out of his room and pacing around in the den.

He'd had no idea it was that bad, her erratic behavior making much more sense now. Obviously, she'd been traumatized. Hell, they'd all been traumatized to varying degrees, though it paled in comparison to everything Izzy had been through. What the hell had he been thinking? He'd completely lost sight of the big picture, all because he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her.

He paused, gripping the side of his desk. The big picture was overwhelming. Terrifying. He'd lost sight of it on purpose. Better to keep busy, pushing forward and focusing on the details like the next step and the unanswered question in front of them.

Rookie mistake. Never lose sight of the big picture.

From the quaver and hitch of her breath, he knew she was crying by the time she'd finished talking. Silence for a moment. Then, a shaky voice. "Say something?"

What could he possibly say to make any of this okay? "Izzy, I'm sorry." He pushed off the desk and resumed pacing. "I know it might seem like I always know what to do, but I really don't, especially when it comes to you." Actually, there was one thing that might help. "But listen to me, you did not touch that dog."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because there's no evidence of it, right? Do you have any bloody clothing? Dirt or grime under your nails? Gore on the bottom of your shoes?" His bare feet felt cold against the thin carpet, his thin t-shirt and joggers doing little against the cold draft in the room.

"No," she admitted. "At least, I don't think so. Hold on, I'm checking my closet." He heard her moving around in the background for a couple of minutes before she continued. "I didn't find anything."

"I didn't think you would. Besides, do you have any idea how physically taxing it would be to do that to a dog?"

Sniffling. "Didn't think of that."

"It wasn't you. Put that thought out of your mind, at least." He cradled the phone against his neck and rubbed his hands against his arms.

"Oh my God, Caleb. Thank you." She sobbed, hopefully in relief.

"I'm just glad you told me." It hit home that she'd really been worried she could be responsible. That kind of darkness could consume a person. His chest felt tight, his mouth dry. He swallowed hard before continuing. "I can't begin to understand everything going through your head right now, but please don't go there. That's not you. You're not evil." If she were here right now, he'd wrap his arms around her and never let go.

He bit the inside of his cheek. Big picture. No running. No pretending everything could be normal.

Another sniffle. "Then who took the knife?"

"I don't know. Most likely, someone took it during the party, but I need some time to think before we all meet up after school tomorrow. Okay?" The knife moved up to priority number one. Someone had been in her room; someone had violated her privacy.

"Okay. You're probably right." She added more quietly, "I'm glad I said something."

"You can't keep everything inside like that. We're trying to help you." He stopped walking and dropped onto the couch. "I'm trying to help you."

"I know. I'm sorry. I am grateful for the help, even if I don't always act that way." She paused for a moment. "It's just been a struggle."

"I get it. You don't need to apologize, but maybe I do."

"What? No–"

"I shouldn't have pushed you to talk to your father." He rubbed his hand back and forth through his hair. "I just... I just want to try to solve this whole thing so badly that I'm not thinking clearly."

"None of us are," she said softly.

"You're right, but I'm still sorry for putting that kind of pressure on you." She didn't deserve it. Besides, there were other ways to find information. Should he mention it? Would she be angry he looked into her father, or relieved that he hadn't found anything out of the ordinary?

"Caleb?"

"Sorry, still here. Just thinking." Maybe tomorrow. He could tell her tomorrow. "Anyway, we're not solving anything else tonight, so what can I do right now? What do you want me to do?"

"Can you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?" A pause, then a whisper. "It's less terrifying with your voice in my ear."

Those words rippled through his body. His chest tightened. She sounded exhausted. "I can do that. You want me to explain the next math unit or something?"

Izzy started laughing and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. What he would give to hear that laugh more often.

She stifled a yawn. "You serious? Because for once, I think I'd like that."

"Honestly, I was joking. I have no idea what unit you're supposed to be doing next. Been a little distracted." He shuffled his cold feet back and forth against the carpet.

"Why don't you just tell me what you're doing in Calc? I'm definitely not going to be interested in that." She yawned for real this time. "Should put me right to sleep." With all that rustling, she must be burrowed under a thick comforter.

"Okay, let's talk about applications of derivatives, then."

She giggled. "Perfect. Spare no detail." He'd never heard her giggle like that.

In his best soothing monotone, he launched into a thorough explanation of derivatives. Within 15 minutes, she'd gone quiet besides the exhale of her soft, even breath.

"Izzy? Still there?" He waited another couple of minutes to be sure. "Sweet dreams," he whispered, hanging up the phone. Then he popped to his feet and crossed the room to his computer.

"Sudo!" The cat whined when he scooped him up from the computer chair. "Sorry, but you're in the way." He stroked his back a couple of times before setting the cat on the floor and booting up Linux. Then turned on the proxy server and VPN as Sudo stalked off in a huff, probably to curl up on his pillow. That cat lived to annoy.

Caleb turned his attention back to the computer, navigating through a series of message boards and forums. While it could be irritating to follow the breadcrumbs each time, the board moved around regularly for security purposes. Better safe than discovered by unwelcome visitors. Finally, he found the black and white picture of a cicada. He clicked on it, entered his credentials, and began searching for a user he'd dealt with before to hook him up with a background check. With more time, he may have been able to do it, but searching for sealed police records could get tricky. He'd never attempt it from his home computer, anyway.

Luckily, he recognized someone online and sent a direct message. He received a response almost immediately.

Zer0H0ur: Looking for a complete background check with a 12 hour turnaround time. Doable?

Cracked Pen: Tight. Need some info about the target first.

Zer0H0ur: 18M Duke student.

Cracked Pen: Possible. Something might slip though, but I could get that to you later. Reason?

Zer0H0ur: Possible stalking, harassment, and violence. What's the cost?

Cracked Pen: Crypto or trade?

Zer0H0ur: Trade.

Pen gave him several options of open orders from easiest to most challenging with the usual mixture of research, security checks, and even some artistic hacktivism. That hacktivism assignment was the obvious choice until his eyes landed on the last assignment on the list.

Identify the abandoned hospital from the video.

He stared at the words for a moment, the tightness in his chest compressing, compressing. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Get a grip. Find out more. It's just a coincidence.

Zer0H0ur: What's this about a hospital?

Choosing that option would also mean he'd have a decision to make. Stall? Misidentify? Or give up the location? Maybe he should identify the location. It's not like they couldn't use the help.

Cracked Pen: You seen the video where the two boys disappear?

Zer0H0ur: Yeah, but it looked like a hoax.

Cracked Pen: It's not a hoax.

Zer0H0ur: How do you know?

Caleb drummed his fingers against the desk as he waited, anxiety creeping into his stomach.

Cracked Pen: It's happened before. I have proof.

He shot out of his chair, walking a full circle around the room to calm his racing breath. He should be more excited than anxious, but the hollow swirling in his stomach said otherwise. This was too easy. Too neat. Think.

He made another loop of the room, the rhythm of his footsteps helping to focus his thoughts. Actually, it made sense they'd be looking to identify the place. Despite his attempts, James' video had gone viral. If they suspected this wasn't a hoax, the implications of that disappearance could be huge.

It made sense. Stop freaking out and get as much information as possible. It made sense.

He took a deep breath and dropped back into the chair.

Zer0H0ur: What kind of proof do you have?

Cracked Pen: You gonna do this or not?

Zer0H0ur: Sorry. I'm in.

Cracked Pen: You sure? This won't be so easy to find. The information shared on camera narrows the location down, but there are still at least 100 viable locations. Also, it may be dangerous. We can pair you with someone else if you want. Or not. Your choice. We're currently offering this to everyone who's completed at least 10 prior assignments, but only a handful have chosen it so far.

That did make sense. It's not like it was just him; everyone with experience got this option. The knot in his stomach loosened some.

Zer0H0ur: I'd prefer to work alone.

Cracked Pen: Up to you. If you can dig up some real information on this, we'll owe you. Quite a bit.

Cicada owing him was no small feat, not to mention that they might have answers to some of his questions.

Zer0H0ur: You got the proof from the previous incident?

Cracked Pen: It's a different location, but I'll see what I can do. First, what's the name of your target?

Zer0H0ur: Burns Chamberlin

Caleb gave them Burns' birthdate, home address, and a bit of additional information to get them started.

Cracked Pen: The other site is off Green Mountain Trail. I'll give you more details about it when I get you the background report. We'll be in touch.

He shoved the chair back and rubbed his palms together. If he could help Izzy and get some information to move their investigation forward, they might all have a chance at getting out of this alive.