Watched by C. J. Lyons Page A

sweet air, I sit there and do nothing. I don’t think. I don’t try to plan. I don’t come up with lies to tell anyone who might discover me. I’m just me, alone for the first time in what feels like years.
    Finally, I take Miranda’s phone from my pocket and dial. “I’m in.”

17
    Miranda was ensnarled by code and almost didn’t hear the phone ring when Griffin called. She grabbed her Bluetooth and answered, her gaze still blurred by streams of characters.
    â€œI’m in,” he said.
    She swallowed hard, her breath catching with excitement.
    â€œOkay, here’s how it’s going to work,” she told him, knowing her voice was rushed and manic but feeling like she needed to talk fast to get this all out before she forgot something. “The button camera-recorder I ordered for you looks like an ordinary pen. Just clip it in your pocket, click the top once to start recording and again to stop—”
    â€œA pen does all that?”
    â€œSure. I could have gotten one that streamed it wirelessly but it was too expensive, so this one uses a USB port, just take the cap off. But here’s what I was up all night working on—how would you like it if we did this so you never have to confront King in person at all?”
    â€œYou mean get him to talk, confess, over the phone or computer?”
    â€œNo. I was thinking we could infiltrate his computer—well, I could, with this program. See, we’ll use the USB drive on the pen to upload this program, once I finish it, into your computer, then once I gain access to your computer, I can follow him back to his.”
    â€œAnd then what? Copy all his files, send them to the FBI or something?”
    â€œWell, if he’s smart, there won’t be anything on his computer. That’s why he’s so hard to catch—with the live streams he sets up between you and his clients, he’s watching remotely. There’s nothing on his hard drive.”
    â€œSo there aren’t copies out there all over the net? It’s just King’s clients who have seen me?” He sounded relieved. She hated to disillusion him.
    â€œSorry, no. If I were King, I’d screen capture the video feed from my client’s computer and bury the file on their hard drive, then send new customers there to download it.”
    â€œAnd if the cops ever search his client’s computer, they’d find the files and downloads but nothing would lead back to King?” His breath whistled over the airwaves into her ear via the Bluetooth. “Why do you want to risk using this program on my computer if we’re not going to find evidence on his?”
    â€œIf we get control of his computer, we can turn the camera on and get a picture of him. And I can capture anything he does, like getting paid by a client or setting up a new kid by grabbing a screen capture of them.”
    â€œWe’d just wait until some other kid gets screwed by him?” He did not like that. Neither did she. She didn’t have time before King struck again on her birthday. Only two days left. But other than planting porn onto King’s own computer, there wasn’t much she could do.
    The code on her screen blurred. God, she was so tired, so very, very tired. She needed this all to be over.
    Then she saw the flaw in her plan.
    â€œWait,” she told Griffin. She closed her eyes, thought everything through once more, twisting and turning the plan in her mind. “We might not be able to do it this way. King will know when you connect the USB drive to your machine.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œSo, he’ll be able to see what files are on it.”
    â€œWe’re back to plan A? Finding him and me confronting him in person at the arena tomorrow during the car show?”
    â€œGive me a second to think.” She twirled in her chair, gaze spinning around her room. It was painted beige, like the rest of the