Rick Mofina - Last Seen

“What does he do online?”

“He plays games and he chats on a site called ELZ, the earLoadzone. It’s for younger kids and he only talks to people he knows, like his buddies Marshall, Colton, Ethan and their friends.”

“What sort of things do they talk about?”

“Movies, video games. They talked about the Chambers of Dread—that’s mostly where they dared each other to go on it.”

“You sure he only talks to his friends? People can lurk on these sites.”

“We monitor it closely. We can see who he talks to. So can the parents of the other kids.”

“All right, but we’re going to want to look into his history and who chatted with him. Does he have a cell phone?”

“No.”

“Have you noticed any strange activity in your lives within the last few months? Say, strangers asking for directions, wrong numbers, strange vehicles, anything that struck you as odd or out of the ordinary?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Has Gage ever expressed or displayed any fear, unease or discomfort about anyone in particular?”

“No.”

“Who would you say he is closest to?”

“Besides us?”

“Any way you want to answer.”

“Well, after us, I’d say his pals Marshall, Colton and Ethan.”

“Has Gage ever stayed away from home?”

“Sure, camp and sleepovers with his friends.”

“Has he ever snuck out without permission?”

“No.”

“Run away from home?”

“No.”

Price paged back through her notes.

“Okay, let’s go back. Take me through the attraction again. Everything you can remember—who was ahead of you, who was behind you. No detail is too small. And with respect to you, Faith and Gage, who was with who right up until you realized Gage was missing.”

Cal related everything he could recall, noting how the fog, the darkness, the loud noises and flashing lights often made things chaotic, confusing and hard to distinguish details.

“But at no point did Gage allow either you or your wife to hold his hand?”

“That’s correct.”

“What was his demeanor?”

“He seemed nervous but in a fun way, like he was scared but having fun. Excited.”

“Did you notice anyone talking to him, hanging around him?”

“No, well, outside he had a short conversation with the ticket taker. That heavy guy you got out there.”

“What was the nature of that conversation?”

“The guy was trying to jazz him up about the ride. It was short, but he seemed to enjoy an extralong look at Faith.”

“What about inside? Did you see that guy or notice anyone hanging around Gage?”

“No to both, but again it was hard to make out details inside.”

Price made notes and tapped her pen.

“Let’s go back a bit to the spinner before you exited,” she said. “You say you thought Faith had Gage, that you thought you saw her with him at the exit?”

“Yes.”

Price blinked a few times and made a note, then Cal asked a question.

“I thought you guys were trying to retrieve footage from the video recordings inside the ride.”

Price shook her head. “We’ve got nothing helpful so far. The techs are still working on that.”

“Did you talk to other people who were in the Chambers and those chutes at the same time we were there?”

“We’ve been trying to locate them—it’s difficult. But with the media coverage a few are beginning to step forward. We’re talking to them.”

“What about that canine unit?”

“Nothing so far.”

“What about tips?”

“Nothing concrete has come in but we’re following up all possible leads.”

“The neighborhoods surrounding the fairgrounds?”

“We’re still working them but nothing yet.”

“Nothing?” Cal’s jaw muscle twitched and he indicated the squad room. “What about the people working the attraction? The carnies...what did they tell you?”

“Like I said, we’re still talking to everybody and we’re still searching and canvassing. Look, being a Chicago crime reporter, Cal, I’m sure you have an understanding of the anatomy of these types of investigations.”

Cal understood very well.

Price let a moment pass, then said, “There are only a few explanations for what happened. Gage wandered off, was perhaps disoriented, or he was lured or enticed, or he was abducted.”

Abducted.

Here it comes.

Up to now Cal had been hanging on by his fingertips, struggling not to break, fighting to work around the keening in his head. He shut his eyes tight because what he’d feared, what he’d been denying, what he knew in his gut, had swallowed him. Gage was likely abducted and Cal knew from his own reporting experience that if an abductor intended to kill their victim, stats showed they’d do it in the first four hours. And if a kidnapper was seeking ransom, they make contact within twenty-four to forty-eight hours. The likelihood that Gage was dead, or that they’d never see him again, increased with each passing second.

“Cal?”

He opened his eyes, not having realized he’d closed them.

“Until we have a clear picture of what happened,” Price said, “no one is above suspicion. You understand that, don’t you, Cal?”

He swallowed and nodded.

“And you know we have to clear you and your wife so we can cross you off our list?”

Cal nodded.

“Now.” Price sipped some coffee. “Are you okay to keep going?”

Cal thought of Faith across the hall, wondering how she was enduring.

“Cal?”

“Yes.”

Price looked at her notes. “Are you involved in, or do you have knowledge of who may be responsible for, your son’s disappearance?”

Cal shook his head. “No, I’m not involved and I don’t know who took him.”

“Do you or your wife use illegal drugs?”

“No.”

“Has Gage ever been exposed to any form of physical, sexual or emotional abuse in your home?”

Cal shook his head.

“Do you have a gambling addiction?”

“We went to Las Vegas for fun and gambled a little, that’s it.”

“Do you have any debts?”

“Just the mortgage, car payments, credit cards, like most people.”

“Who handles the finances in your household?”

“Faith. We each have separate accounts, but we have joint accounts, too, and Faith uses those to handle household finances.”

“And these separate accounts...they’re private from each other?”

“That’s right. We agreed to do things that way when we got married.”

“All right.” Price made notes, then moved on. “You’re a crime reporter with the Chicago Star-News.”

Cal nodded.

“You don’t really cover much crime here in River Ridge, or the other ‘safe’ suburbs. You cover the big stuff downtown and across the country?”

“Yes, I work near the Tribune building, and if the story’s big enough, the paper sends me wherever we need to go. Although we don’t travel as much these days—they’ve tightened budgets.”

“In your line of work, you report on a lot of dangerous people, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Your stories helped put a lot of people in prison?”

“I just report the facts.”

“This came up at the news conference, so I want to ask—can you think of anyone in your past who may have threatened you? Anyone who might want to settle a score with you? Or anything you may have done to anger someone to the point that they’d want revenge against you?”

Cal exhaled slowly as his mind raced back over his years and the stories blurred.

“People get pissed off and have said things to me.”

“What sort of things, what people?”

“Usually relatives and friends of suspects, or criminals.”