Jesse heard the chime signal his computer had been restored from Jonathan’s backup drive. The first thing he noticed was the screen photo was no longer the Golden Gate Bridge but a picture of Susan and Davie sitting side by side on swings in a city park.

A cursor blinked in a space named “Password.” Jesse groaned. Hacking past the password of a cybercrime investigator could be a real challenge. But if this was a personal computer, even a family computer, just maybe. He typed “Davie.” A circling icon appeared and suddenly the screen was populated by three folders: DAVIE, PHOTOS, and DOWNLOADS. A warning message appeared in the upper left corner—“No Internet Connection.” Since the internal drive no longer held the data from Jesse’s computer, it couldn’t automatically join the house Wi-Fi. He quickly entered Ethel’s Wi-Fi password and saw the connection restored.

Jesse picked up the KryptoFold device and plugged it into a USB port, hoping that he wouldn’t take a misstep that might cause the program to self-destruct. A small blue light on the device glowed. A new window appeared on a quarter of the computer screen, first as an animated wallet opening to release icons of various cryptocurrencies—Bitcoin, Bitcoin Cash, Ethereum, and others Jesse didn’t recognize—and then a text prompting him to use touch ID to sign in. Jesse knew that was a dead end and waited. Less than thirty seconds later, the program linked to an internet site that securely handled manual transactions. He was asked to enter his virtual wallet address and currency type. He checked the slip of paper he’d found wrapped around the KryptoFold. The long string of numbers and characters most resembled the format used by Bitcoin, but that was a useless guess unless he could find the wallet.

Jesse focused on the possibility that the address might be somewhere on the computer itself. A search of the key words, “wallet,” “virtual wallet,” “Bitcoin,” and “cryptocurrency,” yielded nothing. The prospects for discovering the address significantly narrowed. He moved to the individual desktop folders. DOWNLOADS was empty. It was probably just a destination folder with content moved elsewhere. PHOTOS had subfolders of various activities: Susan’s birthday, Williamsburg trip, Disney World, and family gatherings at Christmas and Thanksgiving. One of the women bore a striking resemblance to Susan, and Jesse assumed she was the sister from Fredericksburg.

The DAVIE folder was also subdivided but by age categories: INFANT, TODDLER, 4–5, 6–7, MISC. They too contained JPEG photos. Jesse opened a few from each. They chronicled the boy’s life from the hospital NICU to the present. As an infant, he seemed to be in a specially designed stroller and car seat. More recent photos showed him in either his walker or a small wheelchair.