The sound of my all-too-loud ringtone blasts me out of my nap. I reluctantly force myself off of the couch and to the kitchen. As soon as I reach the counter and pick up the phone, the ringing stops short.

I look down at the screen. It's Raiden. Why would he hang up in the middle of calling me? I think to myself. I call him back. No harm in checking.

It could be a mistake, but, well, I'm already awake. I yawn as I hold the phone to my ear, waiting for him to pick up. The line rings and rings, and I'm eventually sent to his voicemail.

I hang up after being prompted to leave a message and redial his number. I balance the phone between my ear and shoulder as I look for my phone book. I set it on the counter and start flipping through it.

He still doesn't pick up. I redial. If he's right by his phone, why isn't he picking up?

After a little searching, I find Raiden's father's number.

Once more, I'm sent to voicemail.

"Raiden, this is Officer Turner. When you get this, please call me back."

I hang up and quickly dial the new number. He picks up quickly.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Loeffler? This is Officer Turner. I came to investigate the break-in at your house?"

"Oh. Yes. Hello, Officer. What can I do for you?"

I push away from the counter into the center of the room. I can't keep still. "Is your son with you?"

"Uh... No. He went out about half an hour ago. Why? Do you have some new information?"

"I'm sorry. No. Your son called me but hung up before I could answer. I tried calling him back, but he wouldn't ans-"

"Excuse me," he interrupts, "but I'd like to try and call him myself."

"Of course."

He hangs up immediately, giving me a chance to wake up some more. I put on a pot of coffee and look at the time. 7:17. I've only been asleep for a little over an hour. After a long day, I passed out on the couch as soon as I got home.

I pour myself a cup of coffee from the pot. I hold it close and let the steam hit my face to wake me up more.

The phone goes off again as I take my first sip. I sigh and trade the mug for the phone.

"Hello?"

"He's not answering!" Raiden's father screams at me.

"Mr. Loeffler, please calm down."

"NO! Something's wrong! He left a note in his room. Please, something's really wrong..."

"I'll be right over, Mr. Loeffler."

"Thank you! Thank you!"

I hang up and pour the coffee from my mug into a travel container. It's still going to be a long night...

After a short drive, I arrive at the Loeffler household again. Mr. Loeffler is in the driveway before I have a chance to turn my car off. He guides me through his house, back to Raiden's room, and opens the door.

He breaks down as we reach the threshold and leans against the wall, hyperventilating.

"Please calm down. I'm sure there's an explanation," I weakly comfort.

He doesn't answer and points to the bed. I walk over slowly, taking in how different the room looks. Everything is clean and in its place. The bed is perfectly made and a small note lies perfectly centered on the bedspread.

I walk over and pull on a set of crime-scene gloves from my pocket. Mr. Loeffler comes up behind me to read along with the note.

Dad and Mom,

I'm sorry I had to tell you this way. I'm sorry for the problems I've caused you.

You both know about my online boyfriend, and I know you never really approved of us. That's why I had to do it this way. We're running away together. Please don't try to look for me. Just know that I'm happier with him than I've ever been.

Again, I'm sorry for the stress I know I'm causing you right now. I never meant any harm, but this is how it has to be. Goodbye.

Love, Raiden.

I pull out a small evidence bag and set the note inside.

Mr. Loeffler collapses into tears on the floor.

"Sir, do you have something hand-written of your son's?"

He sniffles and points to his desk, lined with his schoolwork. I pick up the nearest paper and hold it up against the note.

"Did that sound like something your son would say?"

"N-no... He wouldn't say any of that. He would never say he caused us problems. He never did. And we were wary about his online relationship, but he knew we supported him. How could he think that of us?"

I sigh. "Well, there's good news, and there's bad news. What do you want to hear first?"

"Good news. Please." He stands up and composes himself.

"I don't think your son really thinks that poorly of you."

He wipes his eye with the back of his hand. "Okay. What's the bad news?"

I turn the papers around and present them to him. "Your son didn't write this note."

He stares at me with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"I'm sorry, Sir. With the note, his behavior, and the incident earlier this week, I can only believe that it's not a coincidence he's gone missing."

"Do you mean..."

"Yes. I think he's been kidnapped. Probably by his stalker. He seems to be devolving. Raiden told me he mostly kept his distance. That the earlier incident was the first time he'd been around this area."

"Oh, God," he starts. "Oh, God. Oh, God! I knew it! Please, what can we do?" he begs me.

I think. "Is his phone connected with a 'find my phone' system?"

"Yes! I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner!" He runs from the room quickly, and I do my best to follow him.

He sits down in front of his computer and quickly pulls up the system I had asked about. Almost immediately, Raiden's phone gives up a location.

"The park. I'll head over there and see if I find him."

"No, I'm coming with you!"

"Sir-"

"It's my son! Please, let me come with."

I sigh and quickly give in. I didn't want to stand around fighting with him. "Fine. Let's go."

When we arrive at the park, Mr. Loeffler is out and running through the park before I can stop the car.

"Raiden!" he calls out. "Raiden! Raiden, please answer me!"

I follow him through the park to the spot where we'd last seen his phone active. We look around the area together for a few minutes before we find another hidden-away area. Soon after, I find his phone.

I pick it up with my gloved hand and turn it on. There are a few missed calls and voicemails. He hadn't checked any of them.

"What did you find?"

I turn around. Mr. Loeffler is standing directly behind me with little room between us.

"His phone."

He looks down at it and put his hand over his mouth, obviously trying not to cry again. His own phone starts ringing and he pulls it out.

He looks down somberly at the screen. "It's my wife..."

I motion him on. "Go ahead and take it."

He nods and walked in the opposite direction as I keep looking around. I walk to the bench. From there, I look around. My eyes land on the parking lot hidden by trees. Only from that spot could it be seen. In the lot, I see a familiar car. I'm sure I've seen it before... Maybe it's Raiden's. I take a few steps towards it before I come to a small puddle in the grass instead.

I bend down and dip one finger in it. The glove pulls back red.

Quietly, Mr. Loeffler whispers into his phone, "I'm going to have to call you back, Honey." He hangs up without waiting for a response. "Is that..."

I stand up and motion him back. "Please, it's best if you don't look."

"Well, it's kind of late for that!" he exclaims.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to call back up." I pull out my radio and call it in with Mr. Loeffler trying to keep himself together in the background.

This poor kid. I swear, I'll find him.