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  The cop started to open his mouth to ask her a question but I cut him off. “Where is the boy?” I asked hurriedly.

  She led us to the back of the seated children and pointed to a Black boy with a stylish design in his head, fingering for him to come over. He got up and walked over in a casual pace. He blinked at us all, just an innocent child. But to me he could possibly be my daughter’s savior.

  “What complexion was he, baby?” I questioned. “Was he light like this woman here?” I asked, touching the staff member’s arm next to me, a white woman with a pasty skin tone. “Or was his complexion more like mine?”

  The boy scrunched his face, thinking hard as his eyes jumped between us both.

  Me and the staff member’s skin color were close. I hadn’t had much sun lately, other than the pool party, so my hue was on the lighter side. But clearly our tones were different. I still had color, more of a warm yellow. The staff member had almost no color, nearly pure white. And up her forearms her skin was dotted with tiny sun spots, which made her skin look even whiter.

  The boy pointed to me.

  “Okay, I have another question,” I said. “What did his hair look like? Was it black and cut low?”

  “I don’t know. He had on a hat,” the boy said.

  I breathed out my nose. “You said he was tall. Was he my height, or a lot taller like this officer here.”

  The cop straightened up to his full height of 5’11”. I was four inches shorter than him.

  The boy’s eyebrows dipped in concentration, then he turned and said, “That tall,” pointing to Gideon, who had just walked in the room with Rodrick.

  Gideon was maybe 6’3”.

  Around the same height as Ladykiller.

  I squatted down and grabbed the boy by his arms, looking deeply into his eyes. I had one more question that would tell me if Ladykiller took my child.

  “When you saw the man and my daughter leaving out the back door, was he carrying her? Did she scream?”

  “No,” the boy replied, shaking his head. “She was smiling. She was holding the man’s hand.”

  -

  Tyesha816 shared a photo

  Tyesha816: My daughter is missing and the police won’t report it until 24 hours!!!! Fuck the KCPD!! Please, if you see this little girl, inbox me!!! Please!!!

  August 18th, 9:06 p.m.

  CHAPTER 13

  “I didn’t say we wouldn’t look for your daughter,” said Detective Rosan, as we stood outside the daycare center near his black Dodge Charger, the red strobe on his dash spinning round and round. He had a kind, honest face and clean white teeth—though one at the bottom was chipped. The black leather bomber jacket he wore gave me the impression that he was about business. “I just said we won’t report it until another 24 hours. We don’t want to get everybody worked up for nothing. She might be at a family member’s house, or a friend’s house. We can’t rule that out yet.”

  “The hell we can’t!” I yelled. “I called everybody before you got here. Nobody I know has her. I’m trying to tell you who took my daughter. It was Ladykiller! Go arrest him!”

  Rodrick was standing behind me squeezing my upper arms gently. Then his thumbs went to the middle of my back and massaged my spine. Though there was no easing the tension in my body, it did feel good. Gideon was perched on the daycare’s wall not too far from where we stood. He was in earshot for sure. And he was staring at me with intense, grievous eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt he should be standing here with me and not Rodrick.

  “We have somebody checking into the Ladykiller story,” said the detective, patting the air with his hand as if to tell me to lower my voice. “I’m trying to help you. I have a daughter too and I don’t know what I’d do if she came up missing.”

  “I don’t wanna hear that. I wanna hear that you found my daughter! And standing around here asking me questions isn’t making that happen!”

  Rodrick’s thumbs pressed harder.

  “Can I talk to you two privately for a minute?” Rosan asked.

  I was fuming, but me and Rodrick walked over to the side of the building with him, the only area that wasn’t crowded with police officers and nosy news people standing around.

  He put a hand on each of our shoulders and dipped his head to look into our eyes. “I’m going to find your daughter, okay? There are certain procedures that we have to go through first. But I’m going to overlook all of them and get this search started. Tell me more about this Ladykiller person you’re talking about.”

  I started by telling him about how often Ladykiller commented on my status updates. The detective’s face showed doubt, so I made it a point to tell him that Ladykiller’s presence on my page was abnormal. It wasn’t until I explained to him how crazy Ladykiller was—the “chance” meeting at the gym and at my job, the possible sighting at my house, my daughter pronouncing Ladykiller’s name when she said she saw him at the mall—that the detective’s eyes started to glow with belief and shock.

  My phone chimed once in my pocket and I pulled it out. I had just received a text from Gideon.

  Gideon: Come back to the front real quick

  Excusing myself, I raced over to where Gideon was sitting. He pointed at the screen of his phone, then gave it to me for me to read.

  “I knew he posted on yo page a lot,” Gideon said, “but I didn’t know it was that serious.”

  “This is The Site,” I said with surprise. “I thought you didn’t have a page.”

  “I don’t. But when you said you thought Ladykiller took Kylie, I logged in to see who he was. Look what he posted.”

  It was the comments feed from my status update about the KCPD not helping me find Kylie. I started reading.

  God’s Angel: I’m praying for you and your daughter!

  Trillyoung Sav: If yo daughter was white, they would’ve found her by now

  Fedbound Marley: You and your daughter are in my prayers too

  Atlanta Baby: I can’t believe anybody would take that precious little girl!

  Velma Fenty: My granddaughter is coming home. We’ll go out and search ourselves, fuck them.

  Bobby Mason: Me and my frat brothers will help you with the search party

  Deja Michelle: i know you still might be mad at me but kylie is still my goddaughter and i’m praying for you and her text me if you need anything

  Holly Carter: God will bring your daughter home. Trust and believe. I’m praying hard.

  Quita Wheeler: OMG! @Tyesha816 I’m crying for you. This is horrible!

  CousinPete: Did this little girl really get taken? Or is this SPAM?

  VVS Vernon: I hate seeing shit like this. Whoever took her needs to be shot in the streets like the old days.

  Rita RealSpit Gibson: I just inboxed you a number to a private detective if the KCPD won’t help. I’m praying for you as well.

  Joanne Dunley: All my love and prayers are going out to you and Kylie tonight

  I kept reading, looking for whatever it was that Gideon wanted me to see. But all I was seeing was a whole bunch of posts from people wishing me and Kylie well. The posts, though, seemed to revitalize my energy. I felt a stronger sense of hope knowing I had so many people—some of which I never met—in my corner.

  Finally, I asked Gideon what he was talking about. He took the phone back and scrolled back up to where I started. There was a comment I didn’t see, right above God’s Angel’s post, and he showed it to me.

  Ladykiller: You’ll find her soon

  It floored me. I read the four words over and over, trying to interpret the meaning. Was he saying he was going to give her back? Would she still be alive?

  I told Gideon I was going to show the comment to the detective.

  “Okay,” he said. “But bring my phone back when you’re done. I have to make a run. Let Rodrick know too. If yall need anything, just call.”

  Quickly, I reached in and gave him a hug. “Be safe,” I said.

  “I will, Tyesha.”


  I kissed him on the cheek.

  Then I paced back over to the side of the building, where the detective was explaining to Rodrick what he could do through social media to help expedite the return of our daughter.

  Rosan stopped mid-sentence when he saw the urgency in my eyes.

  “What is it?” Rosan asked.

  “Ladykiller just responded to my status update. Look at it.”

  He read the screen and said, “Can you respond back to him?”

  “Yeah. What am I supposed to say?”

  “Ask him what he wants. Then try to get him to meet you somewhere. Kidnappers usually want a ransom. But in your case, it seems like he’s more infatuated with you as a woman than anything else. He’s a stalker, so he might not want money. He might want to trade you for her. Let’s find out.”

  I used my own phone to go to Ladykiller’s page. I clicked on the message icon so anything I posted would be private between me and him. My first post was a question asking him what he wanted from me. It took him exactly six minutes to respond.

  Tyesha816: What do you want from me?

  Ladykiller: I want you to have your daughter back.

  Tyesha816: How do I get her back?

  Ladykiller: Keep looking. Don’t give up.

  Tyesha816: Look where?!

  Ladykiller: I don’t know. But I’ll help you.

  I turned to the detective. I was frustrated with the conversation already. “He’s playing games with me,” I cried. “He’s not gonna give her back!”

  “Yes, he will,” the detective assured me. “If he wants you to play a game, then we have to play. The ball is in his court right now. It looks like he’s gonna give you clues. Ask him can you meet him somewhere for the first clue. If he’s as obsessed with you as it seems, he won’t turn down a chance to see you again face to face.”

  Looking down at my phone, I started tapping letters with my thumb.

  Tyesha816: Okay, I need your help.

  Ladykiller: Let me know what you need me to do.

  Tyesha816: Can you meet me somewhere?

  Ladykiller: Name the place.

  CHAPTER 14

  I sat on a bench at the Crown Center Square Fountain on Grand Boulevard, a line of shade trees behind me nearly hiding me in darkness. I stared at the water spouting out of the fountains in front of me and felt angry tears welling up in my eyes. This is where I took Kylie on her third birthday. She had played in this very Square with one of her cousins of the same age, screaming with sheer joy whenever she got splashed.

  Kylie always loved the water.

  I tried my hardest to blink back the tears and stay focused.

  The boulevard was deserted. Just me… sort of. There was a staircase to my right leading up to a row of manicured bushes, where Detective Rosan promised me there’d be two cops hiding in wait. Maybe fifty yards in front of me, on top of the Halls building, there was a railing protecting the roof’s edge where a sniper was supposed to be positioned, but I didn’t see him. I hoped he was there. And if he was, would he be able to get a good shot through the trees?

  I turned quickly when I caught sight of a man walking casually down the sidewalk. Tonight’s half moonlight wasn’t enough to get a good look at him, but I could see he had on a backpack.

  I was startled by my own phone when it buzzed in my hand. I had a text message.

  Detective Rosan: Is it him?

  I couldn’t tell yet. But as the unknown man drew near, I suddenly realized that he was closer to me than any of the officers in hiding. This man could beat me to a pulp before they cleared the stairs.

  The sniper, I reminded myself, taking deep breaths. The sniper will get him.

  My thumb instinctively hovered over the “y” on my phone’s keypad. But when the man with the backpack got close enough for me to see his face, my thumb went down to the “n” and I typed in “no.” The man was old with a dirty white beard. Probably just a homeless wanderer.

  A Metro bus thundered down the boulevard then, its headlights and MAX route display waking up the darkness. I had forgotten how loud and scary buses were at night time. It stopped across the street from me, and a couple seconds later it was drudging off again.

  And suddenly there was a man standing on the bus stop. No, not standing anymore but running across the street towards me!

  I typed in “yes” and hit send as quick as I could. This was Ladykiller racing up to me, tall and slender. I could see the whites of his eyes now as he cleared the curb.

  The plan was to sit and talk with Ladykiller for a moment to make sure he was really who he was. Detective Rosan hoped I could even get him to admit that he kidnapped my daughter, and then they would come storming out of hiding with their machine guns out.

  Fuck that!

  I got up and started running in the opposite direction. I was scared out of my mind.

  “Tyesha!” Ladykiller called after me.

  I pumped my legs so fast I almost lost my balance. Stupidly, I looked back, my long hair flipping over my shoulder—and I saw Ladykiller gaining on me.

  “Tyesha, stop! Come back!”

  That’s when I heard the first shot. Ladykiller shooting at me or the sniper shooting at him, I didn’t know. But I was still on my feet. Then I did another stupid thing—I looked back again, I couldn’t help it. Ladykiller was still on his feet too, and a lot closer than before.

  As I climbed the stairway, panting as hard as I ever had before in my life, I saw the two officers hustling down with their guns in their hands. I passed them and ran behind the bushes, hunkering down out of sight and not caring about the stench of those officers’ cigarette butts.

  “Freeze! Get on the ground!”

  I didn’t look. I stayed crouched.

  “I said freeze!”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I heard Ladykiller say. “What did I do?”

  “Hands in the air or we’ll shoot!”

  Seconds went by without a word. And then I heard the sound of a short scuffle and what I hoped was Ladykiller being taken to the ground.

  “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”

  “I can’t get arrested,” Ladykiller wailed in a way that made me think he was suddenly sorry for what he did. “I can’t go to jail, please. Tyesha, help me! TYESHA!”

  I closed my eyes and covered my ears.

  -

  Tyesha816: Kidnapper in custody! I’m closer to finding my daughter!

  August 19th, 1:13 a.m.

  CHAPTER 15

  Questions ran through my mind as I sat inside the interrogation room with my arms crossed on the table, my head down, staring at the gray wall. I was in deep thought, waiting on a detective to come in and tell me they found my daughter.

  Why did he take her? How could any man be that obsessed with me? Would they lock him up for life or would they give him a light sentence? Will I have to deal with this again?

  I started looking at Ladykiller’s profile page on my phone, trying to find answers. Most of the activity on his page pertained to messages to me or comments on my status updates. It was as if his whole page was created solely to interact with me. I scrolled further back through his timeline, as far back as a year, and I saw a post that I had never seen before. It was a message my mother, Velma Fenty, posted on Ladykiller’s wall. It read: “I said no! I want nothing to do with you or your family! Stay out of my inbox!”

  That was strange.

  Suddenly, I heard a commotion outside of the room. I got up and went to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. They locked me in!

  “What’s the problem?!” I heard Rodrick yell on the other side of the door.

  Oh my God! I thought. Rodrick and my mother were waiting in the lobby for them to release me—as if I was guilty of something. I should have told him not to come!

  “I don’t wanna hear it!” an officer yelled. “Hands behind your back!”

  Rodrick’s voice
came back hard. “I’m here trying to find my daughter and yall gone arrest me?! What part of the game is this?!”

  “There’s a pick-up warrant against you, Mr. Brown.”

  “So what?”

  “So you have to”—I heard a chair being pushed back, maybe the officers hemming him up—“Don’t fight us. Then you’ll get resisting arrest, buddy.”

  I went back to my chair and plopped down in it. I grabbed my forehead and started crying. My family was disappearing!

  When the door opened, I looked up. I recognized both of the detectives that walked in. Detective Frisk and Detective Copeland.

  “Where’s my baby’s father?” I asked.

  “He’s in lockup now,” said Frisk, taking a seat on the other side of the table.

  Copeland leaned against the wall in another tight T-shirt, a blue one this time, and gave me a strict glare. “Thanks for bringing him to us,” he said sarcastically.

  “Fuck you!” I shouted. “Yall worried about arresting my baby daddy, but where’s my DAUGHTER!”

  “That’s what we’re in here to talk to you about.” Frisk interlaced his fingers on the table. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “I’m not going through this shit again! I’ve answered all of those questions a thousand times. Where’s Detective Rosan?”

  “He’s off the case,” Frisk said. “It was handed over to us.”

  “Did Ladykiller tell you where my daughter was?”

  Frisk’s lips where tight. Then he said, “Ladykiller was interrogated thoroughly. But he didn’t tell us where your daughter was.”

  I felt the tears coming back. And I think I was having a sudden shortness of breath.

  Detective Frisk told his partner to run and get me a cup full of water. He handed me a Styrofoam cup with a coffee lid on it. I opened it and drank slowly.

  “It doesn’t mean we’re not going to find her,” Frisk told me. “We just have to keep looking elsewhere.”