“Afraid?”

“Of Frank. I’m afraid of what he might do. The conversation is about Frank.”

“Let me assure you: Frank is not behind this Web site. But even if he was, why are you afraid? Frank would never hurt you in any way, besides possibly being a very big annoyance in your life. He’s harmless.”

“Sometimes harmless people who have been harmed become harmful.” Something in her voice made Damien realize this wasn’t an act. She was fearful.

“I’ll talk to him,” Damien said.

“He listens to you.”

“Yeah. He listens. Rarely does he obey, though.” Damien offered a conciliatory smile. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“I’m not worried. I’m contacting my attorney. And if he does it again, any of it, I’m going to sue him. You can mention that if you want.” Angela marched down the steps of the porch, all the way down the sidewalk and to her car, where she flung open the door, got in, and peeled out.

“All I’m saying is that you need to watch yourself around that woman. I know Frank can’t see a thing wrong with her, but I’m telling you, she’s no good.” Kay furiously scrubbed a pan she held over the sink.

Damien had barely walked in the door. “With your history with Angela… I’m not sure you’re the best person to judge the situation.”

Kay shot him a harsh but agreeing look.

“Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. The day I smelled her was the day I became a hater of all things jasmine. Thanks for using personal scent self-control.”

“What’d she want?”

Damien chose his words carefully. If Frank was involved with this, he didn’t want things getting around. “Frank filed a missing person report. Turns out she was just over at her new boyfriend’s.”

“Shocking.”

“I think I better go visit Frank tonight, though. You okay with that?”

“Oh, sure. Leave me alone with two kids that hate my guts.”

Damien moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “They don’t hate you. They just hate life right now.”

“Why? They have a perfectly good life.”

“Teenagers never think they have a perfectly good life. That is, until they get out on their own and nobody’s making them pork chops and doing their laundry.” He pecked her on the cheek. “Don’t let it get you down. We knew this day was coming.”

“If we can get through this year without Jenna beating somebody to a bloody pulp, I’ll count that as a success. I thought boys were supposed to be the ones duking it out on the playground.”

Damien walked upstairs to Hunter’s room and gave a hearty knock without flinging the door open this time. His heart couldn’t take another awkward moment.

“Come in.”

Even with the invitation, he opened the door slowly. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hey, Dad.” He didn’t look up from the computer. His fingers were flying over the keyboard.

“Listen, I know we were going to do some checking on that Web site together tonight, but something’s come up. I’ve got to go talk with Frank.”

Hunter’s hands stopped and he turned. “About what?”

“Just grown-up stuff.” Damien tried to read Hunter’s expression. It was probably disappointment. That was the default expression these days. “But tomorrow night, let’s sit down and we’ll see what we can find out about the Web site and-”

“I already did.” He turned the computer monitor to face Damien. “Whoever is doing this knows how to not get caught. Usually the IP information is easy to find, but it’s locked out. Everything is locked out. See?” He pointed to the screen.

Damien moved closer. “Yeah. Looks, um, complicated.”

“Whoever is doing this doesn’t want to be found; that’s for sure. There’s no contact information anywhere on the site. And digging deeper, there are rabbit trails everywhere, leading to nowhere.”

“Huh.” Damien paused. He realized before he went to talk to Frank, he probably should have a good idea of what Angela was talking about. But should he bring Hunter into this? “Can you pull up the Web site again? I want to see something.”

“Sure.” A few fast keystrokes and they were at the site.

“You been following this?”

Hunter shrugged. “When I can.”

“May I?” Damien said, gesturing to the chair. Hunter got up and Damien sat down. Using the mouse, he scrolled down, trying to read the various conversations. He found himself lingering on each one, wondering who said it, wondering about whom it was said. This was brutal and tantalizing, like a traffic accident you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. He scrolled down some more. Damien stopped, reading a snippet of a conversation that seemed like it could be about Frank.

Hunter leaned over his shoulder and read out loud.

“I know! I can’t believe it! He’s such a moron. No… no! I mean it. Don’t do anything… because, trust me, he’s a maniac. He’ll make your life miserable beyond comprehension. You’ll pack up and move to Alaska… No, I’m not overreacting! Listen to me. Just shut up and lay low. I’ll handle this. Do not get involved.”

“Wow,” Hunter said.

Damien rolled the chair back and stood up. “I’ve got to go. I need to talk to Frank.”

“About this?”

“I can’t really discuss it right now.”

Hunter cast him a wounded look. “I’m not a baby, you know.”

Damien pressed his lips together and nodded. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not. There’s so much… It’s just that life is complicated, and it’s hard sometimes to explain why people do what they do… and why adults act like they do. That’s even harder to explain, but-”

“Dad. I know.”

Damien reached for Hunter’s shoulder and squeezed it. “I know you do, Son. Forgive your old man for being a buffoon sometimes.”

“I practice forgiveness every day.” Hunter smiled. “Now I guess you better go talk to Frank. If this is Angela,” he said, pitching a thumb toward the computer screen, “and she’s talking about Frank here, it can’t be good.”

Damien let out a laugh. “Okay, yes, obviously you’re following the situation. Better than I am, I think. I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late. And make sure you hug your mom before you go to bed.”

Downstairs, Damien kissed Kay good-bye and headed over to Frank’s. He checked his watch. Normally Frank liked to go to bed early, but Damien figured he’d probably still be up. He shut off his lights as he pulled into the driveway. He should’ve called first, but Frank would’ve sensed something was off, because Frank was a cop and he could always smell bull.

Lights from the living room glowed. Everything else was dark, including his porch light. Among other things, Frank was a conserver of all things costly, and electricity was at the top of his list,. He’d been known to go through Damien’s house turning off lights.

Damien pulled his coat around him and climbed the steps of the porch, tapping lightly on Frank’s door. He tapped again, listening for movement. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Damien leaned to get a look into the small window by the door, but a lightweight panel revealed only vague shadows.

“Frank!” Damien knuckle-tapped the window. “Frank, hey! It’s Damien. You in there?”

Silence.

Damien reached in his pocket for his cell phone only to find lint. In his rush to leave the house he must’ve forgotten it on the counter.

“Frank!” Damien pounded the door. Maybe he’d fallen asleep on the couch. His fist hit the door again, but this time the door popped open slightly. It was unlocked?

Slowly Damien pushed the door wider, looking for any signs of movement. “Frank, it’s Damien. You here?”

The television was on, flickering through sports highlights on ESPN. Damien stepped in. His heart thumped erratically. It just seemed like something wasn’t right, and that was what Frank always talked about… the gut instinct of a cop. He could drive the streets and sense when something was going wrong.