But Micah didn’t let him bask in that feeling for long. He leaned forward, keeping his demeanor serious, but hopefully still empathetic. “Mateo, listen, I think you’re holding something back.”

The kid sputtered.

“Maybe it’s something that you think will embarrass Nico or get him into trouble. Maybe you think you’re being a good friend by keeping it to yourself – that it’s not your place to tell some random cop his secrets. But it is your place, and I’m not just any cop. I’m the cop charged with finding your friend, and it’s going to be difficult if I don’t have all the facts laid out on the table. I’m going to be honest with you. I don’t have much to go on at the moment. Whatever you’re hiding, it could be the difference between finding Nico alive and… well, never finding him.”

Mateo was wringing his hands, obviously nervous, but he didn’t seem convinced by Micah’s spiel.

“Look,” Micah pushed – just a little, “I’d hate for you to have the shoulder the guilt of knowing you could have helped find your friend and chose not to for the rest of your life, so whatever it is, just tell me – for your own sake, if not mine or Nico’s.”

Mateo’s gaze, which had been trained determinedly at a spot above Micah’s shoulder, wavered – and he seemed to struggle internally over something before his eyes suddenly dropped to the floor. “There is one thing,” he admitted reluctantly.

Thank God.

“Yes?” Micah pressed.

“I walked in on him once a couple weeks ago when he was… on the computer.” Mateo’s entire face flushed. “I guess he thought I’d gone home for the weekend. I didn’t mean to barge in-”

“Mateo, I believe you,” Micah assured, reaching across the small bit of space between them and resting what he hoped was a comforting hand on his forearm. Mateo immediately calmed. “What was he doing on the computer?” Micah asked.

He better not have bothered with all that careful prodding just to be told that Nico was into some weird porn.

“Uh, he was recording himself… you know,” – Mateo lowered his voice – “polishing the banister.”

Micah’s eyebrows rose of their own accord. “You mean masturbating? So… you think he was working as, like, a camboy?”

Mateo seemed relieved he didn’t actually have to say the words out loud. “Yeah, I think that’s what he was doing.”

It would certainly explain Nico’s extravagant wardrobe, and the fact that he could afford coffee from a place more expensive than Starbucks. He probably had a man – or multiple men – venmoing him money for his performances.

“How often did he pose on his webcam?” Micah asked.

“Uh, I don’t know. He didn’t do it while I was here, obviously.”

Obviously.