Page 50 of Headcase
Asa felt a weird squeeze around his heart. It wasn’t fair that Zane was having to sacrifice everything, even if he had used Asa. It wasn’t like Asa hadn’t used him right back. Several times. He looked to his father pleadingly.
“I can help with that,” Thomas said. “I have connections everywhere. This could be of benefit to all of us.”
Zane seemed to consider it, then shook his head. “No. I want to earn my place, not buy it. I’ll have to find a different story for my big break.”
Asa didn’t like the hollowness of Zane’s words or the disappointment on his face. It made him feel heavy somehow. He knew Zane was hurting but he couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t just a byline. This had to do with Zane’s shitty parents and his dead brother. Asa was making Zane’s life harder. He didn’t want to do that to him.
“A story like a game that ends in mass suicide?” Asa asked. “That seems byline worthy to me.”
“What have you found?” Thomas asked.
Asa nodded towards Zane, who said, “We interviewed a student who claims his roommate was playing, and he implied that at least one of the victims, Xander Hamilton, was also playing this game. This is all second-hand information, but it appears to have to do with completing a certain amount of tasks, each of them more unpleasant than the last, many of them having to do with watching or listening to disturbing material. This student’s roommate skipped town four weeks ago, and he thinks the guy was running for his life.”
“Are you able to track this roommate down?” Thomas asked.
“Not yet. Calliope, can you tell me what you can find on an Eric Sievers? He was a sophomore at Henley up until four weeks ago.”
There was the sound of Calliope’s nails clicking on keys. “Eric Sievers, date of birth September 25th, 2000. Son of Lisa and Grey Sievers. Mom is a real estate agent, dad is a professor. He is the youngest of…six siblings. Jeez. No wonder he needed that scholarship.”
“Can you check to see if his phone has pinged off any towers or if his debit card has been used anywhere in the last few weeks?” Asa asked, earning a surprised look from Zane.
“Give me an hour and I can tell you what he had for breakfast this morning,” Calliope said.
“In the meantime, can you send me the info you found on the victims? Maybe we can work backwards and figure out how they pick their players,” Zane reasoned.
“What good will that do?” Asa asked.
Zane shook his head. “Well, if we can figure out how they pick their players, maybe we can figure out who was playing this time and if they quit the game or are still playing?”
Thomas nodded, looking at Zane with a much different expression than just moments ago. “That’s a good idea. Get Lucas to help you. Behavioral profiling is what he does. Maybe he can profile the students. Don’t just look at the most recent five victims. You need a wider sampling. Calliope, look for any suicide clusters you can find throughout the whole country.”
“I already have a bot running. I’ll send that info over pronto.”
With that, she disconnected, leaving the three men to stare at each other. After a minute, Thomas clapped Zane on the back. “Welcome to the family, son. I hope you know what you’ve just signed on for.”
It wasn’t quite the welcome Asa was hoping Zane would get, but it was far better than what he’d expected. When they were alone, Asa stood, looking to Zane. “What do we do now, detective?”
Zane let Asa pull him to his feet, his expression grim. “Now…” he trailed off, like he was gathering his strength. “Now, you meet my parents.”
“What? Why?” Asa asked, hating the panic in his voice.
Asa was not ready to meet Zane’s parents. Not now. Not ever. His mother was a vile creature, and his father seemed equally unpleasant. Zane and Asa were far too new for him to murder Zane’s parents. Murdering his future in-laws might be one hurdle too many for their blossoming relationship. But he kept those thoughts to himself.
Zane shook his head. “Because there’s a very good chance my brother was one of the victims of this game, and if anybody has my brother’s computer lying around somewhere, it’s my mother.”
“You said your mother would never give it to you.”
Zane shook his head. “She won’t. But she’ll give it to you.”
Asa frowned. “She will? Why?”
“Because, more than anything else, my mother is about clout. Her reporter son will never trump her dead golden child, but his billionaire boyfriend will. She’ll do anything to impress a celebrity. You’re as close as she’s likely to get. If she thinks there’s a chance you’re going to make an honest man out of me, she’ll give you a fucking kidney.”
Asa’s lip curled in disgust. He had no interest in placating Zane’s horrible mom. Not for any reason. “No fucking way.”
Zane stepped closer, his hands falling on Asa’s waist, his fingers dipping beneath his shirt and feeling their way along Asa’s abs. “Please. You have to. I need to know if my brother was involved in this, and—God help us—my mother might be the key to that.”
Asa was temporarily distracted by Zane’s roaming hands and his pleading eyes and the way he caught his bottom lip between his teeth. Shit. “You’re completely playing me right now.”
