Noelle nodded, even while tears burned the backs of her eyes.
“Fontane logged in and expected to see a stranger in a cage at the start of another game and instead saw his own son. He went to the big bosses, or the midlevel bosses, you might say. The originals are highly insulated and only emerge once a year. They told him the game was already started, bets had been made, money put on the line. They were even angry he had the audacity to assume who ruled the game. Fontane’s father was long dead, and he had been nothing but a mere boy when they’d immigrated to the United States. I imagine the fact that he’d gotten himself embroiled in a high-profile investigation and trial didn’t ingratiate him to those men. No, Evan was staying, his captivity was underway, and the first days of darkness while the players placed their initial bets had commenced. Some captives screamed and begged during that time, chewed at their hair, banged their heads. All things that helped players determine how much money they’d first put on the line. How could they admit to these men that a mistake had been made? That a nobody had hacked in and put them all at risk? Trust in the system would be gravely compromised, and to play such a game, trust in the system is paramount. The players wondered, of course, at the contestant who was chosen, the son of a player. But that, too, turned out to be a boon, as it was assumed to be payback for some transgression. And so it acted as a warning and naturally helped tighten internal security. As some reconciliation to your father, however, they did allow him a request: to match Evan with the contestant of his choice. Fontane chose Noelle.”
She brought her hand to her mouth, holding back her tears. Oh God, oh God. It was the very definition of evil.
Her head swam, her muscles ached from holding them so tight. And the only reason she wasn’t slumping over with the weight of her grief was because Evan was holding her up. His solid body. The love and support she could feel emanating from him.
Of all the crushing horrors she’d experienced, the knowledge of what her father had done almost broke her. Instead of reporting what he’d found, he had Dow put Evan’s name in as the next contestant. Change a name. And an abduction location. The low-level muscle who’d nabbed Evan would have no clue. They were simply following the orders they’d been given, and as far as they knew, the abduction had gone smoothly. The players would only find out that something had gone awry when they logged in to play.
Had it been simple for Dow to hack their site? Was it easy for someone who’d once hacked the electric company? Or had he found it a challenge? Either way, he’d been successful. She closed her eyes, visions swimming before her. Her father seeing Evan on screen, trying desperately to reach Dow, hocking the only thing he had of value to try and bail Evan out of that cage if possible, to have some financial leverage to fix what he’d done, and then dying of a heart attack when he found out that his own daughter was there too. Because of him. Because of what his actions had led to.
An eye for an eye.
Two men so bent on revenge that they sacrificed the other’s child.
“Why did you have to kill Dow?” she asked. Her voice sounded monotone. Was she going into shock? Maybe. But the emotional numbness was a blessing.
Vitucci sighed. “I needed the computer he’d logged in on, and so I paid him a visit. Afterward, I couldn’t risk that Dow would give my name to the police or perhaps go to them to confess what he’d done. I killed him, yes, but the organization would have done much, much worse. You two don’t have to imagine the ways in which they might have exacted revenge once they located the man who hacked their elaborate game.”
A chill went down Noelle’s spine. No, she didn’t have to imagine. But she also didn’t want to think that this man had done Dow a favor by swiftly taking his life.
“When your father had a heart attack, I went to his home and took his laptop and the photos. And when I understood exactly what the situation was, I paid a visit to the man who would be the sponsor I needed to play—Fontane. They don’t just let any old chump join in, after all.” He smiled, and it appeared as serene as his other smiles.
“A sponsor?” Evan asked. “My father? But why? He vouched for you because you had evidence against him?”
“No. He vouched for me because I’d done him a favor in the past and I had an in with the Reno PD and plenty of access. I’d hidden evidence in the case against Noelle’s father. I’d let him pay me off.”
“What?” Noelle breathed. “I thought you were helping my father. Why? Why would you hide evidence for . . . Fontane?”
“I was helping myself, Noelle.”
“But . . . if you had evidence against him, you could have used it to have him arrested.”
“I could have, but exposing Fontane would have meant exposing myself. And I had a bigger goal in mind.”
She thought she might scream. A game. It was all a game, and he was playing a different one, but he was playing one nonetheless.
“I explained to Fontane how I’d come upon the information about the game in a session with Mr. Meyer,” Vitucci went on. “I told him I’d not only take a payout as I’d done before but that I’d like to play. It had appealed to me. By that time, Dow and Mr. Meyer were both dead anyway. All cleaned up. Or so they thought. And so it came to be that I was there to help you both free yourselves, just another compromised player in their vast web.”
Evan raked a hand through his hair. “How do we find these fucking monsters?” he asked. “All of them. I have friends on the police force—”
“I do as well, Evan. Didn’t you hear me? I’m your friend on the police force. And yet, I’ve done so many favors over the years to prove my false loyalty. I’ve made files disappear, hid evidence. All toward an ultimate end, but even so.” He shrugged. “If I have trust issues as far as the authorities are concerned, you’ll kindly understand why.” The professor glanced at his watch one more time and then signaled to a remote sitting on his desk. “If you could do me one final favor, Evan.”
Again, Evan hesitated, but then rose, walking to the desk and leaning in. He picked up the remote. “There,” Vitucci said, pressing some buttons on the open laptop sitting on the side of his desk and then nodding to a television screen on the opposite wall from where they sat. “Turn it on, please.”
Evan looked at Noelle. She imagined her eyes were as wide and shocked as his. He gave her the slightest of nods, and her breath released. They were together. They could handle anything. Partners.
Evan pointed the remote at the TV and pressed the On button, and the screen blinked to life. For a beat, Noelle didn’t comprehend what she was looking at. She leaned closer as Evan swore under his breath. Both of them stood, walking together toward the screen until they were directly in front of it, as though it beckoned in some silent way. It was a room. And in it were two cages, one containing a young boy, and the other an older man. Noelle stared, her mouth falling open, a wail rising in her throat as she tried desperately to swallow it down.