“No, but really, it has to be related.”
“We don’t know that for sure, and we don’t assume things without proof.”
“Right, I know, but still…”
“But nothing. Until we have proof they’re connected, we’re treating them as if they aren’t. How would Luna even know them? They’re zoned for different schools.”
“Are you really asking how she would know them? Through social media, sports, friends of friends, cousins, running into each other at a mall or an arcade or a pizza place. There’re a million ways other than school that kids know each other these days.”
“Granted, but these kids are young.”
“They’re young, but they’ve been allowed out with their friends to all corners of the city, so it’s very possible they know each other.”
“I’ll concede that point.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not on social media. I forget it exists.”
“Trust me, it exists, and for kids their ages, it runs their lives. Please tell me you know that Scotty’s on Instagram, Snapchat and TikTok. I’m friends with him on all of them.”
“I know that, but I’m not monitoring his activity on social media. Should I be?”
“Probably, but you have the Secret Service keeping an eye on him, so it’s not as critical for you as it is for other parents.”
“I’ve finally found the single advantage to Nick being president.”
“That’s a huge advantage, as you’re discovering tonight. There’s no chance of your kids going missing on their watch.”
“Well, there’s always a chance, but it’s far less likely than it would be for kids who aren’t surrounded by federal agents at all times.”
“Those agents would die before they’d let anything happen to your kids.”
“Yes, they would,” Vernon said. “They love the kids like their own.”
“I know they do,” Sam said. “I can see that every morning when they come to collect them for school. The kids run to them the same way they do to us. I wish every kid had the Secret Service looking out for them.”
“Malone just texted me. There’re active warrants for Brecken Mayfield and his father, Asher, for failing to report into parole on schedule.”
“That tells us they both have records.”
“Long ones. Malone sent that info, too.”
Connecting Ethan to actual criminals only added to Sam’s already considerable anxiety.
Sam noted that it was almost twelve thirty as they pulled up to the last known address for Brecken Mayfield on O Street Northwest, also in Truxton Circle. She was starting to get seriously tired but couldn’t stop when there were threads to pull that might lead them to Ethan.
With Vernon escorting them, Sam and Freddie walked up the sidewalk to the front door of the dark house and rang the bell. In deference to the stressful situation, she didn’t care to comment on the fact that it was a normal doorbell rather than some of the air-raid sirens they regularly encountered.
No one answered, so she rang it again, pounding on the door this time. “Police. Open up!”
When the door next door opened, Sam, Freddie and Vernon instinctively reached for their weapons.
An older woman poked her head out the door. “No one lives there. The Mayfields moved out months ago.”
“Did you know them?” Sam asked.
“Just to say hi to.”
