Page 35 of Resolutions

“Fuck off. I came, I came to have you help me find Melanie.” His head snaps up, instantly alert. “You're the computer genius. I thought maybe you'd know some way to track her down.”

“Cam, I've been trying since she disappeared. Got programs running searches right now.”

“You do?” Hope flutters in my chest.

“Started them the minute the wedding went sideways. Only hit so far was that motel sixty miles out, but by the time I contacted them, she was gone. They barely remembered her until I described her.” He leans forward, hands clasped on his desk.

“That's all the police have found, too.” My shoulders slump. “Thanks for trying.”

“I won't stop searching till she's found. I promise.”

“Thanks for having my back.” I stand, suddenly drained.

“Hey, brewery tomorrow night? Would say tonight, but I've got an... appointment.” His wicked grin returns.

“Can't. Mom's hosting a let's distract Cameron's family dinner.” I roll my eyes. “She said to invite you. She's been stress baking all day.”

“Count me in.”

“See you then.” I walk to the door. “Thanks again, Michael, for helping look.”

“I've always got your back, bro.” He nods at me. “Tomorrow night.”

Walking out past Jill's desk, gratitude washes over me. While I've been wallowing, Michael's been quietly searching for Melanie this whole time. I'm grateful to have a friend like him.

Chapter 16

Melanie

Another dawn, another scan of the Whispering Pines online newspaper. For two weeks, every morning I've searched for any hint of charges against the Whitakers, any bombs, any deaths. My heart stops each time I see their name. So far, there’s been nothing detrimental. Part of me wants to believe Michael was bluffing, that the newspapers he showed me were just elaborate fakes meant to terrorize me into running. But the fact that he would come up with such damning and frightening false stories shows exactly what kind of lunatic he is. Who would destroy an entire family just to prove he can?

Today the lead story caught my eye. Two days ago, a woman in the neighboring town of Boulder Canyon went missing. A thirty-two-year-old, single, first-grade teacher. The article shows her picture; she's pretty. It says she disappeared after leaving the school at three forty-five, others saw her drive off in her vehicle. She didn't return to work the next day. Her car was found parkedon the road that connected my town and hers. There's a reward for any information leading to finding her.

As I read, my heart feels heavier and heavier. This has Michael written all over it. Did he take her instead of me? Has she been a target or just a casualty of his rage?

The thought makes me nauseous. A wave of guilt washes over me for this poor woman. By now Michael knows what I've done, that I've slipped through his fingers. The great Michael, outsmarted by a woman he saw as easy prey. I may have gotten away from him, but I live in fear of him showing up. Some days every noise in my apartment makes me jump. I constantly think, is today the day his fury finally tracks me down?

But now as I look at the missing woman, I can't help but feel that I caused her disappearance. That because I escaped, he punished her. Sending me a message that the chase is still on.

Hypervigilance exhausts me, but I can't let my guard down. Not when one mistake could cost everything. Still, after two weeks of constant fear, I'm thinking more strategically. I've begun my investigation into Michael. And this morning over coffee, a revelation hit me - there might be a way to check on Mom and my aunt without risking contact.

As their power of attorney, I have access to their patient portal. Their doctor updates everything - medication changes, nurse visits, even Mom's weekly blood pressure readings. My hands shake as I log in, dreading what I might find. One new message from yesterday, clicking it open, I read:

“Increased patient's anti-anxiety medication following sister's report of agitation during recent home visitors. Recommend limiting new visitors when possible.”

“Moses, they're okay!” The relief makes me giddy. My supposedly fierce guard cat doesn't even twitch from his nap. “Fine, we'll celebrate later.”

I close the portal quickly even this small digital footprint feels dangerous. Michael's reach through technology terrifies me. But at least I know they're safe; that gives me hope and motivation. I can't allow another girl to go missing. I won't allow Michael to win.

Unfortunately, I can't go back to work. I'd be risking everything. He could have a tracker program that follows my IP address straight to me. I know I've elevated Michael's computer abilities to something akin to Q in a James Bond book, but I can't help it. They say the best offense is a good defense; well, I need to have both. My attention to detail, pattern recognition, strategic thinking, yet humanistic approaches to my journalism is what got me to where I am. Those skills are what's now keeping me alive.

Luckily, Mom has enough money in the account for both of us to live on for a while. I've set up a labyrinth of bank accounts, transferring money between them in patterns designed to obscure the trail. I learned that from a woman's post about how she got her money when she was on the run. I even got Mrs. Post to let me direct deposit into her account. Is it paranoid? Probably. But paranoia is keeping me breathing.

When I can sleep, my mind is clearer. Three times when I've woken, I've written down Michael's threats. Each version reveals new details, building a horrifying picture. Whoever they are, it seems they have a certain type of women. The girl in the newspaper has close to the same color hair as me, same build. The implications turn my stomach. I'm confident Michael is operating on the dark web. I know he's too careful, too controlling to just be Michael. I need to be more confident and not feel like I'm playing with fire. That one wrong click could shoot me into a Zoom meeting face to face with him.

The worst part? Every discovery, every piece of evidence I gather, is something I can't share with Cameron. Sometimes theneed to call him, to warn him about the monster he thinks is his friend, is so strong I have to physically sit on my hands to stop myself from reaching for the phone. I miss him with an ache that never eases. I just want everyone safe and Michael behind bars. But none of that is going to happen until I have proof of who he really is.

Michael

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