Chapter 9: The Second Photograph

“I swear it’s part of a case, Mrs. LeClaire,” Jake insisted, catching the dubious expression on his crush’s mother’s face.

“Hmmm, I see,” April sounded.

“We’re not sure yet. However, this is the second photograph from this era that we’ve discovered among the rummage sale furniture that implies possible ****,” Phinn clarified. The brainy investigator studied the picture and noticed a tiny portion of the top corner missing. “Where did Bandit get this from?”

“Sniffing around your furniture,” Libby said, gesturing to the items that Ms. Nichols had attempted to haggle down. “Why would this be among your stuff, Phinny? Does someone have a fetish for women from the past?”

“That could be the answer to the big Farris riddle,” Johanna agreed, earning a scowl from Phinn.

“Jake–”

“Already on it,” the stocky teen interrupted, scrambling onto his knees to slide under the furniture.

“Girls, be nice,” April admonished Libby and Johanna.

“Sorry, Mrs. LeClaire,” her daughter’s friend responded, grinning at her next-door neighbor.

Alternating between watching Jake peer at the bottoms of the furniture and the picture, Phinn immediately dismissed the possibility that the photo had been inside his grandparents’ abandoned items. Even if the unseen woman in the picture could be his grandmother, the teen noted the timing. A secret from his family’s past showing up only a few days after another potential **** piece appearing a block over, amidst the neighbors’ items, would be a tremendous coincidence. And based on Phinn and Jake’s experiences, coincidences didn’t exist.

“I think I know this woman,” Phinn stated, startling everyone.

“Really?” Jake asked, popping his head out from under a nightstand.

“Yes, I do, but I can’t quite recall from where.”

“Hold on,” Johanna began, peering over her classmate’s shoulder to study the color photograph. “I do know her! I can’t think of the name right now, but I stumbled on her several years ago when I looked into what made Edgewater citizens famous. I wanted to find some tips.”

“Of course you did,” Phinn remarked, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, be thankful that I did, Farris, or you wouldn’t know she’s a former Miss Paddle and It Girl of the town from the early 1970s,” Johanna gloated over her knowledge.

“Yet, you still don’t remember her name,” Phinn pointed out, covering that she’d mildly impressed him.

“Whoa, she won the Waterfest pageant?” Jake questioned, sliding out and standing up. He held out a tiny fragment that Phinn matched with the tear on the top of the photograph. “It was stuck under the end table.”

“So, Bandit must have noticed it, then yanked it out the rest of the way,” Phinn concluded. “Excellent work, buddy.” Jake began to say it wasn’t a big deal until his best friend continued and patted his dog’s head. “You’re definitely outearning your keep over Jake this last week.”

“Oh, come on!” Jake groaned as Libby added to their bulldog’s praise while Johanna smirked at him.

“Can I see the photo, please?” April asked. “As both my mother and I finished as first runner-up, I know about some of the pageant history.”

Jake began to argue that Mrs. LeClaire should never have lost. He ignored Phinn’s efforts to stop him from making a fool of himself. Johanna attempted to record the disaster, but Libby stopped her.

“I mean, your family has incredible genes. Look at Abby and Allie. I’ve even met your sister and nieces over the years. So I know what killer smiles, eye-catching breasts, and great ass…butts run in the family. Hell, I’d even think Layla came from your side rather than Mr. LeClaire’s with those incredible legs and…tight…toned…um, mind!” Jake trailed off under his sister’s withering gaze and persistent head-shaking.

“Mimi von Essen!” Mrs. LeClaire blurted out suddenly. Fortunately for Jake, she’d been in such deep thought that she only caught a few parts of the teen putting his foot into his mouth. “Were you saying something, dear?”

“Only practicing his future wedding toast,” Johanna quipped, earning an impressed nod from Liberty.

“Mimi von Essen? Yes, that sounds about right,” Phinn mused, mulling over his past searches during investigations. “I likely came across her while searching the society pages of the Dispatch while on a case.”

“I knew the name sounded rich and pretentious,” Johanna remarked.

“The Von Essens had wealth and influence for several generations in Edgewater. Franz von Essen held a prominent banking position in town for decades. I wonder…” Phinn trailed off, pondering a new possibility.

“Franz von Essen? Wow, that’s a blast from the past,” a new voice commented, startling the group. They’d barely been paying attention as people came and went, leaving Corky to handle any questions or sales. “Oops, sorry. These two little guys were looking for the home of Jake Magnum. I think they’re fans of yours.”

“You guys are?” Jake inquired, suddenly beaming with pride as two ten-year-old boys nodded with awe at him. Moving over, he offered his hand. “Are you guys here to ask about the case?”

“What case?” the blond-haired boy asked in confusion.

“We want to know if you’re going to win state this year?” his brown-haired friend asked.

“Oh, you’re football fans?” The boys held “what else?” expressions. “Terrific!”

“Why the talk about that miserly, old banker?” Eugene Gordon inquired.

“The boys might have found a picture of Mimi,” April explained to the retired mailman.

“Mimi von Essen? Now that’s a delightful name to bring up. She was an eye-catcher, I’ll tell you,” Mr. Gordon recalled, winking at Phinn with Jake distracted. “Men flocked to get her attention, and women wanted to emulate her style.”

“Yes, that fits with what I heard. Everyone called Mimi a star in the making, and claimed that she might have been one of the greatest Miss Paddles in Edgewater history,” April relayed. “Her popularity and charm stood out as her father could be quite a tyrant when it came to loans. I remember when he died in the early 90s, that people said he could make or break a business.”

“What the hell? Is that Mimi?” Mr. Gordon challenged, finally noticing the picture in Phinn’s hand with a shocked expression.

"Interesting. That could connect her father to the husband of the woman in the first picture that we found," Phinn revealed.

“You found another picture like this one?” the retired mailman queried, continuing to look stunned.

“Yes, we’ve come across two similar photographs so far,” Phinn admitted, figuring the cat had already been let out of the bag. Then, the gears in his brain kicked out another idea. “Have you heard of anyone else finding scandalous photos, Mr. Gordon?”

“Can’t say that I have. What are you two into now?” Mr. Gordon inquired, his eyes sparkling with interest. His friend’s daughter caught his inquisitive look in her direction.

“I don’t know anything about the other photo. I was here when they found this one a few minutes ago,” April divulged.

“Ooh! Hang on. Yeah, I have it right here on my phone, ma’am,” Jake announced.

Libby watched in embarrassment as her younger brother hurried over to impress her friend’s mother.

“Veronica Strecker, wife of Dell Strecker, the infamous land developer,” Phinn supplied, dropping his gaze to study the picture again. With years of sleuthing behind him, the teen sensed that the identity of the other woman locked in a passionate embrace with the popular socialite mattered greatly.

“Veronica? Why, I know her! She also won Miss Paddle. Um, I’m not sure of the precise years, but their reigns weren’t far apart,” April said, frowning over the years. “My mom would know in an instant. She competed around that time, too. Not in either of their contests, I might add.”

“Dell Strecker’s wife?” Mr. Gordon double-checked before letting off a long whistle.

“I bet Mrs. Flaffler would know. She’s obsessed with the pageant,” Johanna pointed out.

“Oh, yes. Faye Flaffler knows the whole history. She could probably even name all the second and first runners-up from each year,” April agreed, chuckling.

“I agree wholeheartedly. That woman never stops talking. Can a chatterbox be a menace to society? I think so,” Mr. Gordon remarked, causing Mrs. LeClaire to cover her mouth. Her neighbor and the pageant director had similar abilities to talk for hours.

Jake and Phinn shared a look and an unspoken discussion. Could the annual summer beauty pageant have been where the blackmailer scouted potential targets? To make someone susceptible to **** required several elements. Money, indiscretions, and a reputation worth preserving. Miss Paddle might no longer be the local star of the past, but the showcase could’ve provided years of potential victims. That included not only the victors, but all contestants.

“Do you know much more about Miss von Essen?” Phinn asked his classmate’s mother.

“Only what I heard growing up. Mimi died before I was even born.”

“She’s died that long ago?” Jake questioned immediately. The disappointment on his face was clear to everyone while he searched the nearby table.

“What are you doing?” Libby demanded to know, growing annoyed with his continual searching.

“Looking for a piece of paper. A nice one. The guys want my autograph,” Jake revealed, glowing with pride.

“Ugh!” his sister responded.

“Sorry, Jake. We don’t have those 8x10s yet. You still need to select a picture,” Corky called over, while giving a buyer her change.

“Kill me now,” Phinn groaned, earning an equally embarrassed nod from Libby.

“Oh, I know this part!” Johanna announced, giddily. “It’s the most fascinating and gossipy element of the story. Crispin Claiborne fell madly in love with her. He’d long been viewed as the most eligible bachelor in town. Not only because of money. Apparently, the man had the face and body of a film star.”

“Blaire’s grandfather?” Jake queried.

“His brother,” Phinn corrected.

“Had much interaction with the Claibornes?” Mr. Gordon inquired, smirking.

“Not as much as you’d think. They’re experts in burying their skeletons,” Phinn noted, frowning over the wealthiest family in Edgewater.

Eugene Gordon chuckled.

“We’ve mostly encountered Blaire,” Jake explained, shivering over the South High School’s queen bee’s close friendship with the dreaded ice queen, Paisley Ellison.

“And sparks flew,” Johanna added, cackling.

“Indeed. We’re acquainted with the current Claiborne heiress, only not on friendly terms,” Phinn clarified.

“I’ll say,” Johanna added.

Suddenly, loud voices carried over from across the street.

“Darnation! I forgot to hurry back over,” Mr. Gordon said, smacking his forehead. “Greene and Ruth Bethune were locked in a glaredown before I brought the boys over.”

“A glaredown?” Johanna questioned.

“You’d understand if you met either of our wonderful neighbors,” Phinn commented.

“I can’t say I see what Bert ever found attractive in Ruth. That woman is downright frightening. Well, unless she used to be a hellcat in bed,” Mr. Gordon remarked before walking away. “I’ll ask around about more pictures, boys.”

"No, that's not necessary!" Phinn yelled, hoping the neighborhood gossip would keep his mouth shut. Although with Johanna in the mix now, Phinn doubted the rumors wouldn't start flying.

“What happened to Mimi?” Jake asked, practicing the perfect autograph for his fans.

“Oh, right,” Johanna remembered where she’d been interrupted. “So long story short, the engagement didn’t last. Nobody knew why. However, it turned into a huge ordeal among the richest families.”

“I think we might wager a guess as to why it didn’t last,” Phinn said, using the photograph in his hand as a prop. “Miss von Essen was either a lesbian or bisexual.”

“Whoa!” Jake exclaimed, his mind immediately going to the current Miss Paddle, Olivia Vantini.

“Get your head out of the gutter,” Libby growled. Unsure about the identity of the fantasy in her brother’s head, she had an inkling of the subject matter.

“I didn’t say anything,” Jake protested. Looking down, he finally liked the way his signature came out.

“One wonders if Crispin Claiborne learned of his fiancée's other life,” Phinn pondered aloud.

“The guy’d be crazy to dump her over this. I mean, if she’s bi, then…” Jake held his hands out as if to say, “Why not?”

“Times were different, Jacob,” April reminded. “So-called good people didn’t tolerate certain lifestyles.”

“You mentioned that Mimi died before you were born,” Phinn said, looking at Mrs. LeClaire.

“I know this part, too!” Johanna exclaimed. “It’s so tragic. Mimi von Essen shocked everyone by committing suicide.”

“No way?!” Jake responded.

“It’s true. Many people blamed the broken engagement and Crispin for her suicide,” April recalled.

“Which might not be the whole or real story,” Phinn noted, glancing yet again at the picture. “Two photos; two dead women.”

“Oh, shit!” Jake squealed, then remembered his two young fans. “Sorry, fellas.”

The two ten-year-olds giggled at the football star’s outburst. Johanna wondered when Jake turned into a grandfather around kids with his use of “fellas.”

“Phineas, Veronica Strecker is not dead,” April LeClaire informed him.

“Sorry, sorry! Forgot all about that part,” Jake hurriedly apologized. “Gabby told me that she lives in the same assisted living complex that Great-Aunt Phillippa was in until she moved to the nursing home.”

“For fu…Dammit, Jake! Get your head in the game!” Phinn ordered before mumbling, “Every damn time he has a bad hookup, this happens. Every fucking damn time.”

“What did he do now?” Libby growled.

“Is he your coach?” the blond-haired fan asked, glancing warily at Phinn.

“Feels like it sometimes,” Jake admitted with a sigh. Then he told the boys to watch for his appearance at Waterfest as he escorted them down the driveway.

“Whadda you mean it’s not football?” the brown-haired fan challenged.

“I know, I know, but life doesn’t entirely revolve around football,” Jake said, imparting his wisdom. “Especially when your best friend won’t let it.”

Standing near the sidewalk, Jake glanced up and down the block. The large crowds kept on coming, filling nearly every driveway with a sale. Only the Greenes had cleared out of browsers, but Jake suspected that had to do with Mr. Bethune escorting his wife away while the veteran's wife pleaded with him to calm down.

“I’ll see you later,” Mrs. LeClaire told Jake on her way home. “I’ll discreetly ask around to a few friends if any other photos showed up.”

“Uh, I can stop over later on to see if any did,” Jake offered, **** to see Abby after no-showing their final match last night.

“I doubt that Phineas will let you,” the older blonde chuckled. “Still, stay out of trouble.”

“I try,” Jake replied, watching the attractive mother take a right down the sidewalk. Left unspoken was that Phinn usually got them into trouble. Still, it wasn’t as wild as the days when Dusty added to his misery.

“Alright, since we now have two names to investigate, and you’re a mixed-up mess, I should probably go with you to the Dillingday,” Phinn began when Jake returned. “I’m sure that Libby and Corky can handle a couple of hours–”

“Don’t even think it, brat,” Libby warned.

“I can’t stay past noon, boss,” Corky reminded. “Mom said any longer might lead you to corrupt me.”

“Your mother doesn’t give my brother enough credit. He’ll corrupt you, too,” the elder Magnum sibling declared.

Johanna laughed while patting the twelve-year-old’s back.

“Don’t worry, Mr. President. I shall accompany Jake to the library. I’ve helped them before down there,” Johanna told the fan club founder.

“Now, wait—”

"Excellent idea!" Phinn announced. He saw not only a way to rid himself of the pesky influencer but also to punish Jake for forgetting to mention that Veronica Strecker lived.

“But you said Johanna annoyed you that day she showed up,” Jake argued.

“Ah, but she also drove the getaway car. Who knows what might happen?” Phinn pointed out. Deciding that the matter had been settled, he moved on to another touchy subject. “Now, the two of you need to be careful with what you say inside your house.”

“Why?” Libby questioned, already glaring at her neighbor. “What did you do now?”

“It’s only until I can conduct a thorough search,” Phinn responded.

“For what?” Jake questioned, shooting his partner a suspicious look.

“Look, I didn’t want to worry you last night, but I found a bug in my bedroom yesterday. Then, last night, I had Ethan and Galen help me search the downstairs. We found a second one in the kitchen,” Phinn recounted. “And earlier, I found…well, Bandit found one in your–”

“That’s what you two were doing?” Libby shrieked. “You could’ve told me!”

“Hey! Be fair here. You said you didn’t want to know what I was doing in Jake’s bedroom,” Phinn shot back.

“You found a bug in my bedroom?!”

“Hang on,” the secretive sleuth said, holding up a finger. Retrieving the plastic bag from the backyard corner, he warned them that it might still be working.

Liberty beat her younger, slower brother by grabbing the baggie first. Throwing it down on the cement, she smashed the bug to pieces with an item they could no longer sell.

“I guess it’s good I didn’t want to keep that,” Phinn remarked.

“Wait! Nobody broke into our house the other night. How long have they been inside…my bedroom?” Jake queried, very worried about what the listener might have heard.

“Relax. I’m almost certain they were planted on the 4th while we were gone. Bandit would’ve shown signs of someone being inside with him,” Phinn pointed out.

“But nobody broke in!”

“Jake, they entered your home to plant bugs. It’s obvious they made a show of breaking into my home because they wanted to search my room while sending a warning,” Phinn explained his theory.

“Fuck this,” Libby growled, marching toward her back door. When asked why, she replied, “Conducting my own search! If Mom and Dad find out, they’ll freak out. Plus, Esmeralda might come by early tomorrow morning to clean.”

“This type will be found attached to a source of power!” Phinn called after her.

“Damn! This case is heating up!” Johanna squealed happily.

“Turn that thing off now!” Phinn ordered, finding her cell phone in his face.

---

The Tobias G. Dillingday Memorial Library sat in the middle of Library Park, south of Old Downtown, which was west of the Harbor District. Constructed in 1899, it was named after the son of a mayor and prominent businessman who died tragically at a young age. No expense had been spared in creating a grand library to usher in a new century. Designed in the Neoclassical style by Hartley Astell, a famous architect, it had once stood watch over one of Edgewater’s finest neighborhoods. The several blocks around the park still held an attractive charm. However, its large, elegant homes have been subdivided into apartments and condominiums, catering to young professionals and recent college graduates.

The second floor of the three-story building featured a large central opening that overlooked the ground level. The central branch of the Edgewater Public Library system, Dillingday Library, also held the multi-library system’s primary depository in its basement. Although other branches had copies of the Edgewater Dispatch, including the northeast branch closest to Jake and Phinn’s homes, the junior sleuths preferred the main branch due to the assistant head librarian and its full newspaper collection.

“This should be so exciting,” Johanna beamed, practically skipping toward the main entrance. “Last time I was here with Phinn, he ended up chased by known felons.”

“I’m aware of what happened,” Jake replied, politely opening and holding the door open for her.

“Then, we were followed by two other ex-cons to City Hall.”

“Great,” Jake mumbled, spotting the person at the main circulation desk.

Gertrude Sanger wasn’t a grinning, flirty, vivacious thirty-year-old assistant head librarian. No, the thirty-year veteran of the Dillingday served as head librarian, and she’d had a fit with Phinn’s actions inside her domain when he visited on the same trip as Johanna’s tale.

“Phineas had better not be with you, Jacob,” the fiftysomething-year-old woman warned. “He’s banned for the rest of July.”

“He is? Why? Because those men chased him?” Johanna questioned.

“Do I know you, young lady?” the head librarian asked, peering over the top of her reading glasses at the influencer.

“I don’t think you do. She’s somewhat of a new acquaintance,” Jake explained hurriedly. “Is Zelda back from lunch? She offered to help Johanna with a story that she wants to post on her social media accounts about Edgewater’s past.”

“Oh, you’re one of them,” Ms. Sanger replied bitterly. “No, Ms. Imhoff is currently showing the archives and special collections to several of Mr. Jimenez’s students.”

“The South High history teacher has students here? In the beginning of July?” Jake questioned incredulously.

"Summer school is in session for students looking to get ahead, or those who misbehaved and need to catch up. I'm surprised that you've never been one of the latter," Ms. Sanger commented.

“Whoa. I pass all my classes, Ms. Sanger,” Jake defended. “If not, Coach Turnbull would make me run laps nonstop.”

“I’m sure that explains it. Now, do mind, Jacob? I have other visitors to attend to,” the head librarian said, gesturing to a mother and her young child who’d gotten in line behind the teens. “You may wait at a table until Ms. Imhoff is free, or help yourself for once.”

Jake led Johanna toward the rear of the library. Along the way, she scrutinized other library guests.

“Boy, is she always so frosty to you guys?”

"Not usually. Zelda said the chase really upset her. I think more so, when she realized that one of the men was Burke Kuhn, and Phinn shot him a few nights later," Jake explained. "Why are you staring at everyone?"

“Trying to deduce which one might be the evildoer who seeks to foil our investigation or harm you,” Johanna replied, sounding like a terrible actress.

"Don't talk that way. Dusty would do so at times to drive Phinn crazy," Jake recounted, turning to head down the rear stairwell.

“Hahaha! I can imagine his response,” the influencer cackled as they descended. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be Dusty’s replacement.”

“Not happening,” Jake shot down immediately. “Phinn’s protective of the third spot in the group. In his mind, it’s Dusty’s and no one else’s. That’s why we’ve never added another person. It might even be why he gets short with Corky sometimes.”

“I think he’s a dick to the kid because Phinn’s a dick,” the chestnut-haired teen declared, following Jake into the basement room with the microfilm readers. “Still, that’s kind of sweet of Phinn…which doesn’t sound like him at all.”

“Our original group meant a lot to him,” Jake added, stopping to scratch his head in bewilderment before the drawers that contained the decades of the Edgewater Dispatch.

“Perhaps you can have guest members on a case-by-case basis. I could be the main guest,” Johanna suggested. “My life is too busy to take on the responsibility or patience to deal with Phineas all the time.”

“Doubtful,” Jake replied, opening a drawer.

He opened several more random drawers, finding the late 1960s and early 1970s, before Johanna grew frustrated. The take-charge teen knocked him out of the way with a hip thrust before finding the correct decade.

“We should start with the late July issues from the first several years of the decade. That way, we can find the years when Veronica Strecker and Mimi von Essen won Miss Paddle,” Jake instructed.

“Good call,” Johanna praised. However, she next asked a question that confused the detective. “What’s Veronica’s maiden name?”

“Uh, I have no clue,” Jake admitted.

“Wait a sec! There is a book about the pageant. I read it while doing my research a few years ago. I think it was published in the early 90s, so it would have them listed. Let me go find it upstairs,” Johanna said, disappearing.

Twenty minutes passed before Johanna returned. By then, Jake’s eyes had already begun to hurt from scrolling through newspaper articles on the microfilm reader. He’d located information on Mimi von Essen and her parents. However, he’d been **** to rewrite his notes as Phinn would likely find them too messy.

"Found it!" the brunette proclaimed. She'd already flipped to the back of the book to find the list and pictures of every winner. Jabbing the page in front of Jake's face, she directed him to look at the years they needed.

“Took you long enough,” the detective muttered, glancing at his phone, which he’d placed on the table next to his notebook.

“Excuse me for helping you,” Johanna responded, sarcastically. “Actually, there are some weird people upstairs.”

“Weird how?”

“Let’s see…First, there was a strange man with deep eyes who I think might have been following me around. He never got close, but always seemed to be a couple of rows away.”

“He could’ve been hitting on you,” Jake suggested, flipping through more pictures of the Miss Paddle contestants. Despite the different hairstyles and fashion, the horny teen found himself admiring most of the women.

“Eww! The guy had to be sixty or seventy!”

“It looks like you found yourself a sugar daddy. No more blogs, videos, vlogs, or whatever you call your stuff. Grandpa will take care of everything,” Jake teased.

“They’re lifestyle journals, buster!” Johanna clarified before sticking her tongue out at him.

“Ooh, Sugar Granddaddy is gonna love that tongue out when you’re dressed as a schoolgirl.”

“Asshole!” Jake ignored the slap to his arm, so Johanna continued. “Second, there was this elderly woman, who just stared me down. You’d think I killed her husband or something.”

“Maybe you did,” Jake responded. “He could've watched one of your lifestyle videos and followed your advice.”

“Haha. Very funny,” Johanna mocked. “No, this woman literally tried to **** me with her glare.”

“Don’t be paranoid,” Jake directed before realizing that he sounded like Phinn.

Both teens nearly jumped out of their seats upon hearing a low moan from out in the hallway.

“What’s that?” Johanna questioned, moving to place Jake between her and the door.

“It’s nothing. Probably the students in the special collection room with Zelda,” Jake said dismissively.

Another low man echoed around in the hallway.

“Isn’t the special collection room down that way?” Johanna double-checked, pointing in the opposite direction of the sounds. She recalled the location from her previous trip when Zelda went inside.

“It’s nothing. Probably a couple of students fooling around in one of the storerooms,” Jake said, attempting to convince himself.

Yet again, the moan echoed.

“That’s not a happy moan. It sounds like somebody in pain,” the influencer pointed out.

“Damn,” Jake grumbled, standing up.

Approaching the door slowly, he felt Johanna grab onto the side of his shirt to stay close. Shaking his head, Jake popped it outside to peer around. He knew the layout of the basement in his head. In the direction of where the moans might have come from, there were two storerooms and another room marked as Employees Only.

This time, Jake recognized the moan coming from the second storeroom from their location. From afar, the door appeared to be slightly ajar. Clinging to his shirt, Johanna followed as Jake moved closer.

“Are you okay in there? Do you need help?” Jake asked while he passed the first storeroom door. From behind, Johanna slapped him for losing the element of surprise.

A fifth moan rang out as Jake got in front of the door. Confirming that the door stood ajar, the muscular sleuth gently pushed the door open further. While he didn’t see anything at first, Jake knew the layout of these storerooms meant that about half of the room sat behind the open door.

Stepping inside the dark room, Jake felt around for the light switch. With Johanna crowding his back, it didn’t take much for her to slam into him from behind.

“Easy!” the junior investigator hissed.

“I-I didn’t…somebody just shoved me!” Johanna screamed simultaneously as the sound of the door slamming shut.

“What the?” Jake roared, swinging around to reach past the brunette to grab the door handle, which promptly fell off the door.

“What was that?” the influencer shrieked in the dark before turning her phone screen on.

“We’re trapped,” Jake admitted, sighing while picking up the broken door handle.

---

This is the original version of the chapter that Patreon pulled last summer for Teen Safety. Considering that there isn't sex in the chapter, I suspect that certain keywords like suicide and the young fans' ages got flagged by a program. It's still a bit of a head-scratcher.