It started like any other weekend sleepover. 17-year-old Kyle, a normal high school junior from suburban Michigan, asked his mom if he could spend the night at his best friend Jordan’s house. His mom, Lisa, trusted Jordan’s family. She’d met his parents, seen their spotless home, and knew exactly where they lived. So, she said yes — without hesitation.
But the next morning, everything changed.
At 8:12 AM, Lisa called Kyle’s phone. She just wanted to check in, maybe remind him to eat breakfast and bring his charger home. Kyle answered — but something was off. Very off.
His voice sounded…weird. Sluggish. Flat. “Hey… mom,” he said. The tone was off, like someone trying to imitate her son and failing miserably. Lisa felt her stomach drop. “Are you okay?” she asked.
There was a long pause.
Then, the voice repeated, “I’m fine. Still sleepy.”
But here’s the thing — Lisa knew her son. Knew how he talked. Knew the little lilt in his voice when he was pretending to be tired versus actually tired. And whatever that voice was? It wasn’t Kyle.
She hung up and immediately tried calling back.
No answer.
What she did next probably saved his life.
Lisa drove to Jordan’s house in a panic. She rang the bell three times. No answer. She banged on the door. Still nothing. Just as she was about to call the cops, an elderly woman opened the door — someone Lisa had never seen before.
“This is the Jackson residence,” the woman said. “I don’t know any Kyle.”
Lisa’s heart raced. This wasn’t Jordan’s house. Her son wasn’t here.
Confused and now terrified, Lisa called Jordan’s mom — who answered right away. “Wait — Kyle never came here last night,” she said.
What?
Jordan had told Lisa that Kyle was staying over. But Kyle never showed. And Jordan? He was away all weekend with his dad out of town.
So where was Kyle?
A Find My iPhone ping gave Lisa the next clue — Kyle’s phone was still on, and it was moving. Fast. Down the I-75 freeway.