“What’s wrong?” the owner cried. “What’s wrong? Your girlfriend just walked out in the middle of her shift and left me shorthanded! That’s what’s wrong. No warning. Nothing. She just up and disappeared!”

Kennedy’s stomach clenched. “Jen wouldn’t just walk away. She’s saving almost all her wages for tuition. Have you looked at the camera footage? Something must have happened.”

“You hear all those horns blowing? I’m too damned busy to stand around with my thumb up my butt. You want to watch footage, you go right ahead. I have a business to run!”

Kennedy couldn’t blame the guy. Being shorthanded during dinner hour, he was in a heck of a fix. But didn’t the man care if Jen had gone missing? Kennedy strode into the building. Kids were all over the kitchen in their Mystical Burger Shack tops, which looked like prison scrubs with a logo on the front and back. Kennedy looked up at the monitor, which was essentially a flat-screen TV with a camera feed. Problem. Kennedy had no idea how to back up the recording.

“Hey,” he said to a kid flipping burgers on the grill. “Do you know how to back this camera thing up?”

“Hell, no, man. The boss doesn’t teach us that stuff. He watches us more than he does the customers. He thinks we’ll give away food to our friends.”

Kennedy stared up at the screen, which was divided into frames. Shit. Something had happened to Jen. He felt it in his bones. The different zones covered almost all the outdoor area where cars pulled in. He needed help to watch the footage.

Kennedy thought about calling the cops, but since he wasn’t positive that Jen hadn’t been irresponsible and just left, he was hesitant. He decided to call her folks instead to see if they knew where Jen had gone.

“Hey, buddy, do you have Jen’s home phone number?” Kennedy asked the patty flipper.

The kid, who wore a net over his dark hair, jerked his head toward the commercial refrigerator, a silver monstrosity with papers taped all over the front. “Should be posted there. If not, the boss has it.”

Kennedy advanced on the fridge, located Jen’s home number, and punched it into his phone. When Jen’s dad answered, Kennedy said, “My name’s Kennedy Fitzgerald, and I—”

Mr. Johnson cut Kennedy off. “Well, hello, Kennedy. I’ve never had a chance to thank you for standing up for my girl that night. I really appreciate what you did for her.”

Kennedy was in too big a panic for chitchat. “Look, Mr. Johnson, I appreciate that, but right now I’m worried about Jen. I’m at the burger shack. She texted me that she was working today, only when I got here, she wasn’t anywhere around. Her boss is ticked off. He says she walked out in the middle of her shift.”

“Jenette would never do that,” her father said. “And she’s supposed to be there. If something came up, she would have called us.”