“This is all off the books, Agent. Bring him in, and I’ll meet with your director. But if you botch this, then all bets are off. I want him unharmed. I don’t care if you have to scorch the earth around him, but I want my nephew brought to me.”

THREE

William swerved the Jeep so hard to the right that dust and rock billowed like the aftermath of an explosion beneath his tires. He slammed the gear into park, placing one foot on the rusted metal step outside the absent door to stand, leaning on the frame of the Jeep. He could barely see above the rows of cotton.

“Oh shit,” he muttered.

In the still dark hour of five a.m., he counted the lights of ten satellite trucks on the road before his trailer. Accompanying the massive white vans looked to be forty—no, fifty—cars. The top lights of the cameras revealed photographers lining the dirt road like paparazzi on a red carpet, along with a crowd of people, many holding signs. He watched as three vans more raised their masts.

William sunk back into his seat.

He pulled out the phone from his console and got online, grinding his teeth at the sparse Wi-Fi that meant the search bar moved at a crawl. Hollywoodextra, the reporter had called it, yet nothing came up for a television outlet. What did appear was a website.

He shook his head. Hollywoodextra.com is what she had actually said.

Everything in the media world has changed, his Aunt Stella had cautioned during her tutorials. TV will still wait and promote a story for days trying to build hype and ratings. But don’t think a camera crew is just for television anymore. If a story is big enough, it becomes all about clicks. Get it verified and get it online, get it on Twitter, get it on the app. Don’t waste a moment.

When the website loaded, it practically screamed the headline: “WORLD EXCLUSIVE: WILLIAM CHANCE’S SECRET LIFE IN ARKANSAS.” At the top of the accompanying story was an icon revealing it had been shared six thousand times—

From around the bend of the field behind him came the sound of tires tearing down the dirt road. The doors of the Jeep were still stored inside the trailer, along with his hat. There was no way to conceal himself from whatever news crew was approaching.

He turned to his console, hunching completely over and pretending to look for something. Please, please let that photographer not have gotten video of his Jeep for people to recognize it.