"Have you given my team her number and your service provider?"
Mr. Pierre nodded.
"Abby has a phone, we gave them her information too. It's going right to voicemail and when we tried to track hers, it came up at the mall," Mr. Wilson said.
Noam figured it was in the bushes or a trash can.
"Abby wasn't on social media either." Mr. Wilson hugged his wife to his side.
"Um…" The teen across the room sat up straighter. "Actually, Abby was. I caught her on Facebook the other day and she begged me not to tell anyone. I warned her you guys would be pissed, but she said she wasn't going to use it often. And I know she downloaded a chat app to her phone." He named the app before fisting his hands in his lap. "I'm sorry, I should have told you right away, but I didn't think it was that big an issue."
"Paul, you should have told us. Who was she talking to?" Mr. Wilson glared at his son.
"I don't know, she said her friends from school." Paul bit his lip, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. I mean, all the kids use them."
"She's eleven," Mrs. Wilson snapped at her son.
"Don't get upset at Paul. We need to remain calm and keep clear heads." Noam glanced at the young man. "Thank you for letting us know. That will help a lot."
"You think she was talking to someone online?" Mr. Pierre glanced at Noam.
"We can't know until we look at her accounts. We're going to need access to any computers or gaming systems that either of the girls might have used. We'll work with the cellular company and the chat app that she was on to get records, but it could take some time. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but for now, all we can do is wait until we go through the videos and look through her social media. Keep calling her friends and anyone who knows the girls."
Mrs. Wilson shook her head. "Someone might have her."
"And she could be at a friend's house. We just don't know, but we are going to look into all of it. I've got a team who will be coming in shortly to deal with any computers or gaming systems. As soon as I leave here, I'm headed to meet with mall security and find out what my team there has found. We will do everything we can to find your daughters."
"But you can't promise you will." Mr. Wilson looked up at him.
Noam didn't answer. He didn't need to. They all knew it was a promise he couldn't make. They all knew what the worst-case scenario was.
"Your team can take whatever they need. I just want my daughter home safe." Mr. Pierre stood. "I need to go home and make sure she hasn't called. My mother is at my house waiting, but I need to be there too." He turned to Noam. "I live right next door. Come get whatever you want, do whatever you need. Just get my daughter home."
Noam nodded. "My team will be there shortly. I'll be in touch as soon as we have any news." He pulled his business card out of his pocket. "Call me if you hear or need anything." He handed one to Mr. Pierre, then set another on the coffee table in front of the Wilsons. "I'm sorry you have to go through this." When they didn't respond, he turned and headed back outside, his stomach in knots. His gut told him this was more than a simple case of a lost child. This one was going to be bad. As much as he wished he could ignore his gut, he couldn't. It was seldom wrong.