“I know that name,” Sofria said. “That’s the name of the person who created the social media accounts floating the conspiracy theory that Samir Vogel faked his death.”
Sofria pulled a slip of paper from her bag and wrote both names down:
MILO GRAVES
SAMIR VOGEL
“You see it too?” Ren asked.
“Yes.” She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Milo Graves is an anagram of Samir Vogel.”
“Let’s rally the troops. Something tells me the idea of Samir Vogel faking his death is more than just a conspiracy theory.
An hour later, Chat and Tox joined Ren and Sofria at the table. Tox had Finn on video, and Chat was typing on his laptop.
Ren spoke to the group. “Milo Graves first appeared on social media a week after Samir Vogel supposedly died in a house fire. He joined a bunch of conspiracy groups and immediately put forth the theory that Vogel faked his death. He got a handful of comments: the face with a monocle emoji, question marks. Looks like he got kicked out of a subreddit for threatening someone in the comments.”
Tox popped the top on a can of Coke. “So the guy fakes his death then floats the theory that he faked his death in some desperate attempt to what? Stay relevant? Gain infamy? Land a Netflix series?”
“That’s the working theory,” Sofria said. “But…” She waved her hand in front of the old Facebook post.
Chat chuckled. “You gotta love Facebook. Milo Graves’s posts about Samir Vogel get zero traction, but the dude who claims birds don’t exist has two thousand comments.”
“Well,” Ren sighed. “A conspiracy theory has to be interesting to get attention.”
“And nobody cared,” Sofria added.
Tox spoke as he turned his computer screen so Finn could see the group. “Looks like he found another way to make his mark.”
“Where’s Twitch?” Tox asked.
“She went to the store. I’ll fill her in when she gets back,” Finn said.
“How long ago did she leave?”
Finn checked his watch. “Not long. I can track her phone. Hang on.”
Tox watched as his friend opened a new window on the laptop. Finn’s brow furrowed.
“What is it?” Tox asked.
“She’s not at the market.”
“Maybe she needed to run another errand. How would Vogel even know how to find her?”
“He was in her house,” Finn said more to himself than the team.
Tox leaned closer to the screen as Finn grabbed a multitool and opened Charlotte’s computer.
“Shit.” Finn held up a small device between his thumb and forefinger.
“What is that?” Tox asked.
“Some sort of cloning device. This asshole has known exactly where Charlotte is and what she’s been doing online since he planted it.”
When Finn looked up, Tox saw the fear in his eyes.
“We’re on our way, brother.”