James Swain - The King Tides

“But he did take it down.”

“Yeah, finally.”

“Do you know if Tyler had any further contact with these movie people?”

“He exchanged emails with a man named Sydney who worked at a big studio and also talked to him on the phone. Sydney said he could get Tyler a job on a movie he was making this summer. Sydney also wanted to contact me and offer me a part.”

“Did you talk to Sydney?”

“He sent me an email. I didn’t reply.”

“Did Tyler give Sydney your email address?”

“I guess he must have.”

“Do you think Tyler gave Sydney other information about you?”

“Probably. Sydney knew a lot about me, like where I went to school, and what grade I was in. It was icky. Tyler must have told him.”

The puzzle no longer had as many missing pieces. An alluring video of Nicki on the internet had attracted the wrong kind of attention from the wrong kind of people.

“You said Tyler and Sydney talked to each other over the phone,” he said. “Do you know if they ever met?”

“The meeting never happened,” Nicki said. “Tyler told me that Sydney wanted to fly to Fort Lauderdale and take us out to lunch. When Tyler told him that I wasn’t interested, Sydney backed out. Tyler wasn’t happy.”

“Did Tyler pressure you to meet with Sydney after that?”

“He asked me a few times, but I said no.”

“That was very smart of you. It sounds like Sydney was more interested in meeting you than Tyler.”

“You’re probably right. I thought the whole thing was a put-on.”

“Why did you think that?”

“Because Tyler’s videos aren’t very good. You should see the comments that viewers post on YouTube. Most of them are awful.”

“But your video got ten thousand hits. How do you explain that?”

“I can’t.” She shrugged her shoulders.

Something wasn’t adding up. A rank high school kid didn’t get ten thousand hits on YouTube unless he had talent or was posting porn. Nicki claimed she was wearing underwear in the video, but Lancaster knew that could be a lie because her parents were in the room. Maybe she’d been naked.

“Do you have a copy of the video that we can see?”

Embarrassed, Nicki nodded. “It’s pretty bad.”

“I’d still like to see it. This is for your benefit, Nicki. I’m pretty sure that video is tied to these men who are stalking you. Seeing it will help me confirm that.”

She looked to her mother and father. “Do you want to see it too?”

“Yes,” Melanie said. “Now go get it, honey.”

Nicki retrieved her laptop and sat on the couch sandwiched between her parents. She typed in a command, Windows Media Player appeared, and a video started to play. She placed the laptop on the glass coffee table so everyone could watch.

“Don’t laugh,” the teenager said.

The three adults in the room watched intently. On the small screen, Nicki lay atop a pile of mattresses wearing a white bra and pink panties. It could have been a sexy pose, only she looked terribly self-conscious. The look on her face suggested that she knew this was a bad decision but had gone along with it anyway. She started to sing, and it didn’t get any better. Her voice was pleasant but nothing to write home about. The image of the uncomfortable teenager did not change.

The song ended, and the screen went dark. On a scale of one to ten, Lancaster gave it a two for effort. It had little to recommend it, yet somehow it had garnered a large audience. But of who? What type of viewer wanted to watch an embarrassed teenage girl mangle an old song in her underwear?

Nicki climbed into her father’s lap and buried her head into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you.”

Pearl walked him outside to his car. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Your daughter’s no sex kitten,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“She’s not sexy in that video. So why so many hits? And why did some pervert pretending to be a movie producer contact Tyler and try to arrange a lunch so he could meet her?”

“You think that man used Tyler to try to get to Nicki?”

“He sure did. Perverts stalk teenage girls on the internet all the time. The stories they invent to get close to their victims boggle the imagination. The problem is, Nicki is anything but sexy in that video. So why all the attention?”

“Maybe it was a fluke.”

“YouTube doesn’t work like that. If a video doesn’t hook a viewer in a few seconds, they click away. I should know, there’s a video of me that’s gotten half a million hits. I did some research on why videos go viral. It’s never a fluke.”

Pearl looked confused. “Then what are you saying?”

“I’m asking you, is this the tip of the iceberg? Has Nicki done other videos with Tyler Steeves that she won’t tell us about? Is that in her makeup?”

“No. Nicki wouldn’t do that,” Pearl said, raising his voice.

“You’re sure about this,” Lancaster said.

“I’m one hundred percent sure,” Pearl said. “Nicki has never caused a problem. We couldn’t have asked for a better child to raise, and that’s saying a lot these days.”

“You’ve had no issues with her?”

“None.”

“How about disagreements?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m looking for a reason why Nicki might become angry with you, and do something stupid that would lead to the situation we have right now.”

Pearl gave it some thought. “Well, she did ask us if she could take horseback riding lessons. I said no, and she got angry. I’ve seen too many young girls become paralyzed after taking nasty spills. It’s a dangerous sport.”

“How long was she upset at you?”

“A few days. She got over it.”

Or maybe Pearl had misread the situation and Nicki hadn’t gotten over it. Her bedroom walls were covered with horse photos. Did they act as reminders of her father’s refusal to let her sit on a horse? He took out his car keys.

“You and your wife need to sit down and talk to her about it,” he said. “I’m going to pay Zack Kenny a visit. I’ll call you if I learn anything.”

“Do you think I’m wrong about my daughter?” Pearl asked.

“Maybe,” he said.

The DMV information that Devon had provided to Lancaster included the address of the luxury apartment building where Zack Kenny lived. It was called Sunrise Harbor and was located in the community of Coral Ridge, a few short blocks from the ocean.

Sunrise Harbor was on the high end of the rental experience and had its own parking area with a small guardhouse equipped with multiple surveillance cameras. Lancaster flashed his old cop badge to the uniformed guard when asked for ID.

“Is there a problem?” the guard asked.

Telling the guard his business was a risk. If he was chummy with Kenny, he might alert him that there was trouble brewing. Or, the guard might be helpful, and share valuable information. His uniform was wrinkle-free and proudly worn. It made Lancaster think he was ex-military and could be trusted.

“A tenant named Zack Kenny,” he said.

The guard let out a whistle. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Is he a troublemaker?”

The guard put his hand on the roof of Lancaster’s car and lowered his voice. “Zack had a runaway living with him. Girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. His neighbor blew the whistle, and it caused a real stink.”

“Did the police get involved?”

“It didn’t get that far. The renters’ association runs the building with an iron fist. They had a meeting in the community room and a hundred and fifty people showed up. Zack came with his attorney and claimed that he was helping the kid out. Nobody believed him. He was told to get rid of the girl or face eviction. He put up a fight but finally agreed, and the runaway moved out.”