Little Boy Lost

I told Emma about my drive back from Clayton, my intersection epiphany with Cecil Bates, and my confrontation with the security guard at the Juvenile Justice Center. Even though it got later and later, Emma sat patiently and listened.

Then I told her what Judge Bryce said about Schmitty. “Think it’s possible?” I shook my head. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Schmitty wants to be the next chief, but I don’t understand how burying evidence about these kids is going to help him. Why would he get the videos and never act on them?”

Emma shrugged. “You never know about people, but it doesn’t seem like him. It doesn’t make sense.” She thought more about it, trying to reason it out. “The police are tight, like a brotherhood. Maybe he keeps a video tight to protect the integrity of the department, maybe to prevent the violence from escalating, maybe as a favor to get somebody’s support for a promotion. Perhaps all three.”

“Maybe.” I stood up. “I should give him a call and tell him about the cameras.” I paced behind my desk, feeling like I had become a conspiracy theorist. It was a rush of paranoia, and it made me suspicious of everybody. “I mean, we don’t even know whether the videos exist. Maybe they delete them all after a week or something.”

Then I had an idea. “What about Nikolas?”

“To sneak a peek?”

“Something like that, like an insurance policy.” I talked up the idea, trying to convince myself. “If we peek, find nothing, no harm done. Or maybe I find something, and Nikolas makes a backup copy, just in case Judge Bryce is right.”

“Maybe.” Emma remained noncommittal. It was one thing to play a little loose with Cecil Bates and drinking in the park. It was another thing to start hacking the courts’ security system on one of the highest profile criminal investigations in the country.

“That’s it.” I nodded, folding my arms across my chest. “We’re doing it.”

“Correction,” Emma said. “You’re doing it.”




The Northside Roastery was closed, but Emma had a key. We went in through the back door. Emma called out, letting them know they had visitors. She looked over her shoulder at me. “Don’t want to get shot.”

Hermes was cleaning the front of the shop, and Nikolas was in his little room.

I went to Nikolas, and Emma turned back, leaving. “You’re on your own, Mr. Glass.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” I took a step into room where Nikolas was working.

He was concentrating on the information displayed on one of his three computer screens. He typed another line of code and then turned. “Can I help you?” Nikolas had dark circles under his eyes, and his beard had grown bushy. It looked like he’d been working nonstop for a few days. The place smelled like a locker room.

“I think you might be able to help,” I said. “It’s the Lost Boys case. The one in the news.”

Nikolas nodded. “Yes?”

“I think I might know a way to find out who’s responsible, but I’m not sure the police are going to help.”

“Don’t trust the police?” Nikolas smiled. “Me neither. What you need?”

I handed him my phone and we looked at the pictures that I had taken of the cameras outside the Juvenile Justice Center, as well as a picture that I took of one of the blue probation vans. “I’m looking to see if there’s any footage of who took the van on this date and about this time.” I took out a piece of paper from my notebook that had the information written on it and handed it to him. “And if there’s other videos from inside showing the person walking through the hallways, or maybe even a video of the van driving on the street near the place where Isaac’s brother was taken, that would be amazing.”

“That’s a lot.” Nikolas turned and looked at his computer. “Got something in the hopper right now.” He held up his hands. “All this you’re talking about, probably different systems. Street cameras, probably public works or department of transportation, maybe Homeland Security or cops. The courthouse, maybe city or cops or bailiffs, or even a private security company. I have to figure out the main system where it’s stored.”

“But you did it for Cecil.”

Nikolas nodded. “True, but that was one little traffic camera that nobody cares about. This is a courthouse, more complicated.”

“So you’re not going to do it?”

Nikolas laughed. “No, I do it for you, Mr. Glass. Just might take a little time. Give me time.”

“Like a week?”

Nikolas shrugged. “Don’t really know. Some, I get quick. Others, more difficult.”





CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR


The next few days passed without incident. Maybe it was the novelty, but every morning Sammy got up, got dressed, and headed off to school without complaint. By the end of the week, a pattern had already developed. It felt like she had been going to Clement City her whole life. Sammy seemed more at ease and more confident.

Then, on Friday evening before dinner, the phone rang. This time, however, Sammy wasn’t in trouble.

It was a girl from school. I handed Sammy the phone, and they talked for a few minutes. Then Sammy said into the receiver, “I’ll check and call you back.”

They were assigned to be partners for a history project, and the girl wanted to know whether Sammy was willing to come to her house to work on it and then go to a movie on Saturday.

It was the first time that Sammy had been invited to a playdate in years, although I didn’t say it was a playdate out loud. I knew that I’d be scolded for using such a babyish term, and that Sammy would give me the heavy eye roll.

I normally found the teasing to be quite enjoyable, but not this time. I didn’t want to do anything or say anything that was going to ruin it.

“I’ll make sure we get you over there.” I played it straight. “You can call her back and get the address after dinner.”

“Will do.” Sammy smiled. Her personality was lit up, and it was quite possible that she might float away.

“You ready to go?” I asked.

“I am,” she said, and then we walked over to the main house for dinner.




The weekend went by in a blink and the next thing I knew, I was in my office on Monday morning prioritizing phone messages and gaming out the week. Emma updated me on new hearings that had been scheduled, and then it was almost time to go.

Although the arraignment calendar wouldn’t start until ten o’clock at the earliest, I wanted to stop into the Northside Roastery before heading downtown.

Nikolas and I needed to talk.

I grabbed my battered briefcase, hustled out the door, and walked down to the coffee shop. Hermes came out from the back. I ordered a dark roast and then asked whether I could go back and see his brother.

Hermes shrugged as he put the money I paid in the drawer. “Human interaction might be good for him.”

“Supposedly it’s good for everybody.” I picked the cup of coffee off the counter, thanked Hermes, and walked around the counter to the backroom.

Nikolas was sitting in front of his three screens. A cold, half-eaten box of Chinese food was on one side. Three bottles of Mountain Dew were on the other.

I knocked on the door frame. “Got a minute?”

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