After a frantic exchange of phone calls the previous night, Kevin Richardson and AJ McLean had hopped onto a red-eye flight from Los Angeles to Miami and made it to Key West by noon. They rented a car and spent the afternoon driving around, searching for their missing brothers. Howie had vacationed in Key West with Nick before and knew all his favorite haunts, but no one at any of the bars or restaurants they stopped at had seen him in the last few days. They went to the marina where Nick kept his boat and were disappointed to find it docked there; Howie had been hoping maybe Nick had gone sailing and was simply out of cell phone range, although that still would not have explained what had happened to Brian. They walked up and down the beach, but found nothing.
When it got dark, they decided to go back to the hotel, where Detective Overton and her partner had spent the last few hours interviewing the missing men’s wives. Leighanne and Baylee had arrived late the night before, while Lauren had flown in first thing that morning, having left Odin at home with her father. Both women were beside themselves by the time the detectives left and barely ate anything at dinner in the restaurant downstairs. Neither did Howie, Kevin, or AJ. Afterwards, they all went back upstairs to turn in for the night, agreeing to meet early the next morning for another search of the island.
“Kinda feels like old times, huh fellas?” asked Kevin, as they undressed for bed. “We haven’t shared a hotel room in over twenty years.”
In their hurry to get to Key West, he and AJ hadn’t bothered to make a reservation before leaving L.A. and had arrived to find the hotel where Howie was staying fully booked. Howie didn’t mind sharing his room; in fact, until they found out what had happened to Nick and Brian, he didn’t think any of them should be alone. Leighanne and Baylee had taken Brian’s reserved room and were letting Lauren crash with them, as Nick’s place was now being considered a potential crime scene. The police were in the process of conducting a more thorough search of both the house and Nick’s boat for clues as to his whereabouts.
AJ shook his head. “It’ll never feel like old times without Nick and Brian,” he replied gruffly.
Kevin couldn’t argue with that.
“We’ll find them,” said Howie with a sense of assurance he didn’t feel. “They couldn’t have gone far.”
“You don’t know that. They could be in Cuba by now - or halfway to Mexico.” AJ seemed to be under the impression that Nick and Brian had been abducted by drug smugglers or human traffickers. Howie thought it unlikely that two middle-aged men would be targeted by such types, but he didn’t have any more plausible theories to explain their sudden disappearance.
“C’mon now, we can’t think like that,” Kevin chided, as he turned back the covers and climbed into one of the two beds. “We have to stay positive.”
“Do you think they’re together?” asked Howie, taking the other bed. “I mean, how would Brian have been able to find Nick if he wasn’t in the hospital? Where else would he have gone?”
“Maybe he went to Nick’s house, and something happened there,” AJ suggested, sinking into an armchair by the window. “Or maybe Nick was taken first, then Brian. You can’t tell me their disappearances aren’t related somehow. It would be way too much of a coincidence otherwise. Two members of the Backstreet Boys going missing in the same week? There must be some kind of connection.”
“You’re probably right,” Howie agreed, “but who would want to hurt Nick or Brian?” Detective Overton had asked him the night before if either of them had enemies. Howie couldn’t come up with a single name. Sure, there were ex-girlfriends, former associates, and Nick’s crazy family, but no one he would consider an actual enemy.
Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Melissa Schuman?” he said wryly.
Howie’s eyes widened as he considered the possibility. Melissa Schuman was a washed-up popstar who had been waging a very public Twitter war against Nick for the past two years after posting a blog that claimed he had once raped her. Nick had always denied the allegations, and the district attorney had declined the case, but Melissa continued to call him her “abuser.”
“I didn’t even think of her,” Howie admitted. “Do you really think she would do something that extreme?”
“Not really,” replied Kevin with a shrug, “but she does have a reason to want revenge on both Nick and Brian.” Brian had defended Nick, telling TMZ he was being targeted by a “fame seeker.”
“Yeah, but it may not be an enemy at all,” AJ pointed out. “If this wasn’t some random kidnapping or a robbery gone wrong, it could be crazy fans.”
“Crazy fans?” Kevin snorted. “Someone’s been reading too much fanfiction.”
Howie laughed. “Oh, c’mon, Kev, everyone knows you’re the only one who’s read any fanfiction. Why, do people really write about crazy fans kidnapping us?”
“Yeah - at least, they used to,” Kevin answered seriously. “But that’s why it’s called fanfiction. I don’t see anything like that happening in real life.”
“Hey, you never know,” AJ insisted. “Stranger things have happened.”
“It still doesn’t give us much to go off of, unless you can think of any crazy fans that happen to live in the Florida Keys,” said Howie.
“Who says they have to live here? They could have come down here because they knew Nick was here.”
Kevin shook his head. “That doesn’t help, AJ.”
“I actually think the crazy fan theory makes more sense than it being a random kidnapping or something like that,” said Howie thoughtfully. “There was nothing random about this. Someone called Brian and told him Nick was in the hospital to lure him down here. Since we know Nick’s not in the hospital, and he’s also not home, that had to have been a lie. Whoever took Brian must have already had Nick.”
Kevin nodded, looking grim. “What did Leighanne say the woman’s name was again?”
“Danica Logan,” replied Howie, “but Detective Overton doesn’t think it’s her real name. She’d have to be pretty stupid to give her full name if she were going to commit a crime, wouldn’t she?”
“You never know,” AJ said again. “If she’s a crazy fan, she may not be thinking logically. Has anyone tried looking her up?”
Howie’s eyes widened. “You mean like googling the name?” Why hadn’t he thought of that?
AJ shrugged. “Sure - why not?”
Howie grabbed his phone off the nightstand and typed the name Danica Logan into the Google search bar. The first few results were porn sites. Following those were social media pages for a Danica Logan who worked for the Canadian government, as well as Danica Logans who lived in Australia and Indonesia. Howie couldn’t see a crazy fan coming all the way across the world to abduct a Backstreet Boy, and the thought of Nick and Brian’s captor being from Canada was almost funny. Too bad he didn’t feel like laughing.
“Anything?” asked Kevin, leaning over to look at Howie’s phone.
Howie shook his head. “Just a lot of porn.”
“Porn?” AJ’s eyes lit up. “Lemme see!” He sprang up from his chair and practically dove across Howie’s bed, landing on his stomach.
“No!” protested Howie when AJ held out his hand. “You’re not using my phone to look at pornography.”
“Why not? It’s for investigative purposes!”
Howie rolled his eyes. “Because I don’t want my wife to find it on my phone.”
AJ raised his eyebrows. “Leigh checks your phone?”
Howie was getting flustered. “Well, no, not necessarily, but-”
“Dude, chill,” AJ laughed. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll look it up on my phone, you prude.”
Howie felt his face getting warm. AJ retrieved his own phone from the table and cozied up next to Howie on the queen bed. Curious, Kevin came around to the other side so that they were sitting three across, their backs against the headboard.
“Whoa, there’s some kinky stuff,” snickered AJ as he scrolled through the search results. “Anyone here have a foot fetish?”
No one answered him.
“Ooh, what’s this one?” AJ wondered aloud, clicking on a site called Arresting Beauties.
Howie leaned over to look. Before the webpage could load, a large white box popped up on the screen with big, bold text that stated, “You must be 18 years old to visit this site.” Disappointed, he shook his head. “Don’t, AJ, it’s just another adult site.”
“So what? We’re over eighteen, aren’t we?” AJ entered his birthdate without hesitation and clicked to proceed. “C’mon, it could give us a clue!”
Howie rolled his eyes. “You just want an excuse to watch porn.”
AJ wrinkled his nose. “Not this kind of porn…”
“Huh?” Howie couldn’t help but sneak another peek. He was disturbed by what he saw. The full site featured still frames of beautiful, topless women in hospital beds with electrodes taped to their exposed chests and oxygen masks over their heavily made-up faces. Many of them appeared to be in the midst of receiving CPR or being defibrillated. “What the…?”
“Fuck,” Kevin finished for him, frowning as he stared at AJ’s phone. “Is this, like, medical fetish porn or something?”
“Looks like it,” said AJ, as he scrolled through the site.
Howie shook his head again in disgust. “This is weird. Go back, AJ.”
“Are you kidding? This site came up in our search results, and it’s medical-themed. Danica Logan claimed to be calling from a hospital. You don’t think there’s a connection there?”
“I dunno…” Howie was doubtful, but he couldn’t deny that AJ had a point. He didn’t protest when AJ continued to explore the porn site.
“See if there’s a search bar anywhere,” Kevin suggested.
AJ scrolled back up and found one at the top. He typed the name Danica Logan once again and tapped the search button. “Jackpot,” he whispered when the results loaded. A long list of titles appeared, each with an accompanying cover photo. He clicked on one called Bro Code, which featured a blonde woman bending over a bare-chested man. More photos loaded, along with a brief synopsis. “Chad is found in full cardiac arrest after collapsing at a college frat party,” AJ read aloud. “While his frat brothers panic, beautiful nursing student Sarah comes to his rescue, performing chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Can she keep Chad alive until the paramedics arrive?”
Kevin let out a low groan of disapproval. “Jesus… sounds pretty depressing for the plot of a porno.”
“I think that’s the point. Some people must get off on this shit,” said AJ with a shrug, as he scrolled down. “Look, there’s a trailer.” He pressed the play button on a video. Howie and Kevin couldn’t resist leaning in to watch.
The trailer was nothing but a series of brief vignettes: a dark-haired man in a backwards baseball cap chugging from a beer bong, then crumpling to the floor… his beer-bellied frat brother shaking him and calling his name… the young blonde woman tearing off his tank top to expose his toned torso… a close-up of her hands pushing down on his hairless chest… her lips covering his as she blew into his mouth… her voice crying “C’mon, Chad, breathe!” as the screen faded to black.
“Wow,” said Howie, shaking his head in disbelief. “Do people really get turned on by watching a dude pretend to die of alcohol poisoning?”
“I dunno about that, but the girl giving him CPR was pretty hot,” AJ admitted.
He was right, but Howie refused to agree with him. “Do you think that’s Danica Logan?” he asked.
“Probably,” replied Kevin. “I guess we’d have to download the full video to get the credits.”
“No way, we’re not giving these people $19.99 to watch more of this freaky stuff!” Howie protested. “The police can pay for it if they want it.”
AJ laughed. “Yeah, for that price, the girl better be the one without a shirt.”
“Go back to the search page,” Kevin suggested. “See if the same actress is in the other videos that came up.”
AJ pressed the back button and scrolled slowly through the search results. They pored over the pictures, recognizing the faces from the first video in many of the others. The woman who played “Sarah” wasn’t always blonde; she wore a variety of wigs in different colors. “That has to be her,” Howie concluded.
“Dude, look at this one,” AJ said suddenly, pointing at the screen.
Howie saw the picture first. It showed the same woman walking topless on a treadmill, all wired up with electrodes. Then he noticed the title, and his eyes widened. “Shape of Her Heart?”
“Click on it,” said Kevin.
AJ read the synopsis: “Becky’s doctor has recommended a stress test to make sure her heart is in tiptop shape before she begins training for a marathon. After the doctor attaches the EKG leads to monitor her heartbeat, Becky starts walking on the treadmill. The doctor gradually increases her pace until she reaches a full-out run. Sweat pours from Becky’s body as her heart pounds faster and faster. When she begins to feel sharp pains in her chest, the doctor stops the test, but it’s too late - Becky collapses in sudden cardiac arrest! The doctor rushes to resuscitate her with CPR and shocks from the defibrillator. It’s now a race to save Becky’s life. Can the doctor restore her heartbeat before time runs out?”
He tapped on the trailer. Howie didn’t want to watch, but morbid curiosity kept him from looking away as the actress began jogging on the treadmill, her perky breasts bouncing. The video cut to a shot of her breathing hard and clutching her heaving chest. The next moment, she was lying on the floor with her brown eyes rolled back into her head. A woman in a white coat was leaning over her. “Breathe for me, Becky!” she shouted as she began compressing “Becky’s” chest, making her boobs jiggle even more.
“This is sick,” Howie whispered, watching the woman arch her back off the floor as the “doctor” pressed a pair of paddles to her bare chest. “I don’t understand how anyone could be aroused by this.”
“It’s a sick world we live in, my friend,” said AJ. “But she does have a nice rack.”
“Gross, AJ,” replied Howie, wrinkling his nose. “Have some respect.”
AJ laughed. “Howie, you know this isn’t real, right?” he asked, as he went back to the search results. “How could this woman have starred in all these other videos if she had actually dropped dead?”
“It’s disrespectful towards people who really did die this way,” said Howie, his eyes flashing at AJ, “not to mention their family members who may have watched it happen. Would you have said my sister had a nice rack if you were in her hospital room while they were trying to resuscitate her?”
All the color drained from AJ’s face. “Dude! Fuck no, no way. You know I didn’t mean it like that, right?”
“I know.” Howie sighed. It had been a low blow to bring up Caroline, but he’d gotten his point across. “Sorry if I overreacted. I’m just saying… have some respect for people who have been through the real thing.”
AJ nodded. “You’re right, bro. I’m sorry, too.”
Kevin cleared his throat. “Can we get back to what brought us to this fucked-up website in the first place? Danica Logan. This woman calls Brian, claiming to work in a hospital; then we find all these weird medical fetish videos featuring an actress by the same name, one of which has almost the same title as our song. Coincidence or not?”
“Could be... but probably not,” replied AJ.
Howie nodded. “There has to be a connection,” he agreed.
“I think we need to show the police,” said Kevin. “It could be a lead.”
Howie reached for his phone. “I’ll call Detective Overton right now.”
***
The lead detective seemed less convinced that there was the connection between the mystery caller and the woman on the medical fetish website, but she agreed to look into it. In the meantime, she had been following other leads.
Two days after Brian’s disappearance, she summoned his family and friends to the police station to look at a piece of “potential evidence” she had found.
“We’ve been weeding through surveillance footage from the airport’s security cameras to see if they captured Brian leaving,” Detective Overton explained, opening a video on her computer. “We finally found something.”
The group of six - Howie, Kevin, AJ, Leighanne, Baylee, and Lauren - exchanged glances as the detective turned her monitor toward them. She pressed the play button, and they all leaned forward to get a better look.
“This first clip comes from inside the terminal. The camera picks up Brian when he gets off the plane at Gate 2.” She pointed out Brian’s blurry form, pulling his carry-on bag behind him. “We can see him approach this man, who appears to be waiting to pick him up.” She paused the video so they could get a better look at a large man in a dark-colored suit. “Do any of you recognize him?”
Howie squinted at the screen, but it was hard to make out the man’s features in the blurry image. “No,” he said, as the others shook their heads. “Should we?”
Detective Overton offered a grim smile. “We don’t know who he is either. That’s why I’m asking you.”
Leighanne spoke up. “Brian said the woman who called him offered to have someone from the hospital pick him up and bring him there. He even called her back after he’d booked his flight so they’d have the information.”
“That’s helpful,” replied the detective, writing it down in the notebook that lay open in front of her on the desk. “That supports our theory.”
“What theory?” asked AJ.
“That this man is responsible for Brian’s - and possibly also Nick’s - disappearance.”
Howie’s heart beat faster as he looked back at the computer screen, desperately wishing the image were clearer.
“Based on the text messages Brian sent shortly after landing, we know he was heading straight to the hospital,” Detective Overton continued, “but he never made it there. We’ve also looked at the security footage from Lower Keys Medical Center. Brian doesn’t show up on any of it, and no one we interviewed at the hospital remembered seeing him there that day. So something must have happened between Point A and Point B.”
Leighanne let out a little sniffle, her blue eyes filling with tears. Wordlessly, Baylee put an arm around his mother.
“You have tried tracking their phones, haven’t you?” asked Kevin.
“Of course,” confirmed Detective Overton. “That’s typically one of the first things we do, but it didn’t help us in this case. Both of their phones are turned off, and the last place they pinged was here in Key West, which we already knew. Unfortunately, it’s impossible to pinpoint a precise location on the island with the information we have.”
Kevin nodded, heaving a sigh as he raked his hand through his hair.
“Going back to the surveillance footage... the best shot we got of our suspect was when he walked out of the airport.” Detective Overton skipped ahead to a frame of Brian following the stranger out the door. They were closer to the camera, but the image was still grainy.
“Can’t you zoom in or make it any clearer?” asked Leighanne.
“I wish we could, but unfortunately, the kind of technology you see in crime shows on TV doesn’t exist. We can’t just magically improve the picture quality with the click of a button,” the detective replied apologetically. “Even if we could, it wouldn’t do us much good if none of you knows who he is anyway. But what we can do is put his picture on TV, share it on social media, spread it far and wide until someone who does know him comes forward.”
Kevin nodded. “Do it.”
“We’ll do even better than that,” added Detective Overton. “We also have a decent shot of his car.” She fast forwarded through footage that showed the two men hurrying through the parking lot, their heads bowed together beneath a black umbrella, and paused on a frame of a silver sedan pulling out of the lot. They could just barely see Brian’s blurry face peeking out the back window.
“Do you have the license plate?” Lauren asked hopefully.
“Unfortunately, no. The camera was at the wrong angle to get a clear picture of it. But we do know the make and model. It’s a Toyota Corolla. I’m not sure how much that will help us, considering the Corolla is one of the world’s best-selling cars and silver is in the top three most popular exterior paint colors. It will be difficult to track down this exact silver Corolla when there are so many others just like it driving around the Keys. But it’s a start.”
Howie could tell she was simultaneously trying to offer them hope without getting their hopes too high. For every positive, there was a negative. For every potential lead, a dead end. But at least they were on the right path. He prayed the police would be able to follow the few clues they had and find Brian and Nick before it was too late.
***
The next break in the case came nearly two weeks later.
It was mid-November by now. It had been thirteen days since Brian’s disappearance, sixteen since anyone had heard from Nick. The rest of the Backstreet Boys remained in Key West, wanting to be there when their brothers were found.
The media had flocked to South Florida once word got out that two of the Backstreet Boys were missing. The group had released one official statement through their publicist, offering a substantial reward for information leading them to Nick and Brian, and filmed a personal video begging for their bandmates’ safe return. All the major news outlets had picked up the story, the video had gone viral, and Howie, Kevin, and AJ had spent every day since dodging bloodthirsty reporters and distraught fans.
Wanting to get away from the crowded hotel, Howie had rented a beachfront condo big enough to comfortably accommodate all three of them, plus the two wives and Baylee. But they were no longer free to come and go as they pleased or participate in any physical searches for Nick and Brian. For their own safety, both the police and the Backstreet Boys’ security team thought it best they stay put.
That was why, instead of asking them to come to the station, Detective Overton came to see them. “Why don’t you all have a seat?” she suggested kindly, as they gathered together in the condo’s kitchen.
Howie’s heart pounded with trepidation as he sat down with the others around the dining room table. “Please, just tell us… did you find them?” he asked, dreading the news that a dead body - or both bodies - had been discovered.
“No,” Detective Overton replied quickly, setting her laptop down on the table. “But we do have a promising new lead. A woman who works at a bar on Duval Street came forward a few days ago, claiming to have served Nick on Halloween night.”
Lauren’s eyes widened. “That means she may have been the last person to see him before he disappeared! Why are you just now telling us about this?”
The detective raised her eyebrows. “If I told you everything, it could compromise the investigation. Plus, with all the press this case has received, we’ve been getting a lot of tips lately, and it takes time to follow up on each one. Most turn out to be bogus, but every once in a while, we do get a legitimate lead. I wanted to make sure we could substantiate this woman’s claim with actual evidence before I gave you false hope.”
“So you do have actual evidence then?” Kevin asked, leaning forward.
Detective Overton nodded, opening her laptop. “We have footage from the bar’s security camera,” she said, clicking through a series of still frames of a man in a plain white t-shirt sitting at the bar. In most of the shots, he had his head down, bent over his drink or his phone, but Howie recognized both his Tampa Bay Buccaneers cap and his body language, the way the camera had caught him rubbing his head and wiping his nose. There was no denying it was Nick.
“You can see his face in this one,” added the detective, stopping on a photo where Nick was finally looking up. “It’s him, isn’t it?”
They all nodded in agreement.
“He appears to be alone at first,” said Detective Overton, “but after a while, he moves down to the end of the bar and strikes up a conversation with this couple.” She showed them a picture of two people in coordinating Halloween costumes: the woman was dressed like a slutty nurse, while the man was wearing a blood-stained hospital gown. “From what the bartender told me, they had recognized Nick and bought him a drink earlier, which he reciprocated before joining them.”
Howie barely heard a word she said. He was staring hard at the screencap of the dark-haired man and blonde woman, his mind focused on their medical-themed costumes. “That’s them,” he said suddenly.
Everyone looked at him in surprise. “Who?” asked Detective Overton eagerly, her pen poised over her notebook.
“Danica Logan. The girl from that fetish site. And-”
Leighanne’s eyes grew large. “Baylee, go to your room,” she said abruptly, before Howie could finish.
“But Mom-” Baylee began to protest.
“Go!” she snapped. Baylee kicked his chair backwards and stomped upstairs, muttering something about not being a little kid anymore. “Sorry,” apologized Leighanne, her face now bright pink. “He’s still only sixteen. I don’t want him hearing about sexual deviants.”
“Technically, they didn’t have sex in any of the videos we-” AJ started, then suddenly stopped, his mouth dropping wide open as he looked back at the laptop screen. “Wait a second. Is that Chad?” He pointed at the dark-haired man. “Frat Boy Chad’s alive?!”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you!” Howie exclaimed.
“Who is Chad?” asked Detective Overton, frowning.
Howie rolled his eyes. “Well, I doubt that’s his real name; AJ’s just trying to be funny. But I do think it’s the same actor who was in one of the, uh, adult film trailers we watched on that website. He was a muscular guy with dark hair. And the girl… she looks like one of the actresses.”
Detective Overton minimized the folder containing the camera footage and opened a new internet tab on her computer. “Can you show me?”
“I thought you already went through the website when we first told you about it,” Kevin said, his brow furrowing.
“I did,” replied Detective Overton, “but that was before we discovered this footage.”
“Yeah, back when you didn’t believe it was important,” muttered AJ.
“C’mon, guys, don’t give her a hard time,” said Howie. “She’s been doing everything she can. We didn’t know for sure that it had anything to do with their disappearance either.”
“But we thought it did - and if she had taken it seriously two weeks ago, we might have found them by now!” argued Kevin, his voice rising.
“Can one of you just show her the fucking website so we can get back to the footage from the bar?” Lauren asked, raking a hand through her hair. “I want - no, I need to see what happened to my husband.”
Exchanging guilty looks, the guys all nodded. AJ told the detective what he had typed into Google to find it, and she followed his directions. “It could be the same people,” she acknowledged finally, studying the screen. “The man definitely has a similar look. It’s harder to tell with the woman; her hair’s a lot different.”
“She either dyes it or wears different wigs in most of these videos,” said AJ. “I bet that’s her real hair at the bar.”
Detective Overton went back to the footage from the bar, where the woman’s hair was short and blonde. “You’re probably right,” she agreed. “So watch: they chat with Nick awhile; then the woman gets up and goes to the restroom.” She fast forwarded the video to that point, where they could see the woman walking away. “While she’s gone, the man gets a notification of some sort on his phone - most likely a text message.” They watched the man take out his phone, frown as he looked at it, and start texting furiously, his thumbs flying over the screen. “The woman comes back, there’s a brief exchange between the two, and then the man leaves the bar.”
“Leaves?” Lauren said in surprise.
Detective Overton nodded. “He definitely walks out the front door of the bar and heads southeast down Duval Street. Unfortunately, once he goes off-camera, we have no way of knowing where he went or what kind of vehicle he may have been driving. The city’s in the process of having outdoor security cameras installed in high-traffic areas, but they’re not up and running yet.”
“Are you trying to tell us this tiny woman kidnapped Nick all by herself?” asked AJ, arching a brow.
“Not necessarily. Just watch what happens next.” The detective forwarded through a few more minutes of the video. “Nick excuses himself and goes to the restroom. While he’s gone, the woman orders him another drink. As soon as the bartender sets it down, she looks over her shoulder to make sure he’s not coming back right at that moment,” Detective Overton narrated, as the action played out on her computer screen. “When she sees that the coast is clear, she takes a tiny tube out of the front pocket of her dress-” She paused the video so they could see the woman uncapping the small container. “-and pours the contents into Nick’s drink.”
She pressed play, and their mouths dropped as they watched the woman do just what the detective had described, using a swizzle stick to stir the drink before Nick returned.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell that dumbass not to touch a drink that’s been left unattended?” Lauren asked, shaking her head in disbelief when she saw her husband sit back down and take a sip. Her choice of words would have been funny, but Howie’s laughter died on his tongue when he saw the tears in her eyes.
“That’s what women are taught, but us guys never worry about anyone spiking our drinks,” AJ responded quietly. “I guess we should, huh?”
“It doesn’t hurt to be cautious,” agreed Detective Overton. “You see what can happen?” She forwarded further through the footage. “He’s feeling the effects of whatever she mixed with the alcohol now. See how he’s starting to sway on his stool?”
Howie swallowed hard. “What was it that she gave him?”
The detective sighed. “We may never know for sure, but my guess would be GHB, otherwise known as the date rape drug.”
“Oh god,” Lauren whispered, as Kevin groaned. With a sinking feeling, Howie watched Nick down the rest of his drink.
“They get up to leave at the same time,” Detective Overton pointed out, as the video played on. “He stumbles, and she steadies him.” Howie felt nauseous when he saw the woman grab Nick’s arm and pat his shoulder. “Then they walk outside together.” A wide shot showed Nick staggering after the woman, weaving back and forth as he followed her out of the bar.
“Is that all there is?” Kevin asked, his brow furrowing as the video cut to black. “Where did they go?”
“We have one more video taken from the camera mounted outside the entrance to the bar,” said Detective Overton, pulling up a different file. “It shows the two of them getting into a car. A silver Corolla.”
Leighanne gasped. “The same car that picked up Brian?”
Detective Overton nodded. “We can’t know that for sure without seeing the plates, but it seems probable that it’s the same one.”
Indeed, an identical-looking sedan pulled up to the curb where Nick and his companion were waiting. Lauren’s face crumpled as she watched her husband climb awkwardly into the back seat with the woman who had drugged him. The car drove away quickly, disappearing from view.
“Did you get a plate number this time?” AJ asked eagerly.
“Sadly, no,” said Detective Overton. “With the angle of the camera and the fact that it was dark, it’s impossible to tell.”
“What about the driver?” he pressed. “Was it Frat Boy Chad or the fat guy from the airport?”
Detective Overton shook her head. “It was too dark to see who was driving.”
They all sighed. “What good are cameras if you can’t get any identifying information off them?” AJ grumbled.
“AJ, we just got a good look at the woman who did this to Nick!” Howie exclaimed. “All the police have to do is share her face with the public, and surely someone will recognize her. This is a great lead! It’s gonna help us find them both.”
“We also have the website,” added Kevin. “Can’t you use that to track her down?”
“That may be more difficult than it sounds, but we’ll certainly try,” said Detective Overton. Once again, Howie could tell she was attempting to manage their expectations; she didn’t want them to get their hopes too high. But for the first time since Brian and Nick disappeared, Howie felt truly optimistic. With all the information the police had, it was only a matter of time before his brothers were found.
He just hoped they would be found alive.
***
