The look she gave him was one of genuine shock. “No. He’s in prison.”
“Not anymore,” he said, and she paled further. “He was paroled a month ago.”
“I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
“Have you noticed anything else missing?”
“Yes. My tip money that I keep in a jar in my bedroom disappeared about a month ago. I blamed Joey for taking it.” She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. “Then two weeks ago it happened again-my tips and the cookies I’d baked for the kids’ lunches. I spanked Joey and called him a liar.” Tears filled her eyes. “Like his daddy.”
“We can deal with that later,” Daniel said gently. “For now, can you tell me what you remember from the journals?”
Her eyes had gone glassy with panic. “Mack was here. My boys are at school. They’re not safe if Mack’s around.”
Daniel knew he couldn’t expect her to be helpful when she was panicked over her kids. He called Sheriff Corchran in Arcadia and asked him to pick the boys up from school, then turned to Annette, who was visibly struggling for control. “Corchran said he’d let them run his lights and siren. They’ll have a ball. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, still very pale. “Mack is out of prison, the journals are gone, and four women are murdered just like Alicia Tremaine.”
Five women, Daniel thought. Annette O’Brien must have missed the morning news.
She looked at him, her eyes stark and desolate. “Mack killed those women.”
“You knew him. Could he have done it? Would he?”
“He would and he could,” she whispered. “My God. I should have destroyed them when I had the chance.”
“The journals?” Daniel asked, and she nodded. “Please, Mrs. O’Brien, can you tell me what you remember from the journals?”
“They had a club. Your brother, Simon, was the president. Jared never mentioned any real names. They used nicknames.” She sighed wearily. “They were stupid boys.”
“Who raped a number of women,” Daniel said harshly.
She frowned as his meaning became clear. “In no way am I excusing what they did, Agent Vartanian,” she said quietly. “Make no mistake about that. This was not a boys-will-be-boys prank. What they did was obscene and… evil.”
“I’m sorry, I misunderstood. Please go on.”
“They were boys when it started, fifteen or sixteen. They made up this game, had rules, a secret code, keys… It was so stupid.” She swallowed. “And so horrible.”
“So if Jared didn’t mention names, how did you know Simon was the president?”
“They called him Captain Ahab. Simon was the only one in Dutton I knew with a fake leg, so I put two and two together. Jared put in the journal that nobody called him Ahab to his face, just Captain. They were all afraid of him.”
“With good reason,” Daniel murmured. “What other nicknames did Jared mention?”
“Bluto and Igor. Jared wrote how they always hung around together, and once he slipped and wrote something about Bluto’s father being Mayor McCheese. Garth Davis’s father was the mayor at the time. I guessed Igor was Rhett Porter.”
“Garth’s uncle bought the mill after Jared died,” Daniel noted, and her eyes flared.
“Yes, for pennies on the dollar. We were left with nothing. But you didn’t come here for that. The others… Well, there was Sweetpea. I was never sure if that was Randy Mansfield or one of the Woolf brothers. Jared thought it was funny that they called him Sweetpea because the boy didn’t like it. It was some aspersion against his manliness. It was how they convinced him to join.” Her lips twisted. “ ‘Have sex with these girls. Prove you’re a man.’ It made me sick.”
“You’ve given me four nicknames,” Daniel said. “What was Jared’s nickname?”
She looked away, but not before he saw the pain and shame in her eyes. “Don Juan, DJ for short. He was the ladies’ man of the group. Jared lured most of the girls.”
“And the other two?”
“Po’boy and Harvard. Po’boy was Wade Crighton. Of that I’m completely sure.”
“Why?”
“The boys had to deliver a girl to the group as part of their initiation. They were divided on whether or not to let Wade in. He was the poor boy. His dad worked in the mill.” Her expression grew grim. “But Wade had assets. He had three sisters.”
Daniel’s stomach lurched. “My God.”
“I know,” she murmured. “The club was angry that ‘Po’boy’ refused to bring his real sister, but the consolation prize was twins.”
Panicked bile rose in his throat. “Wade brought both girls?”
“No. They got mad because they’d been all excited to ‘do twins’ and then Po’boy only brought one. He told them the other was sick and couldn’t leave the house.”
“So they raped Alicia.”
“Yes.” Annette’s eyes filled. “Like they did all the others. I… couldn’t believe what I was reading. I’d married this man. Had babies with him…” Her voice trailed away.
“Mrs. O’Brien,” Daniel said softly. “What did they do to the girls?”
She wiped her eyes with her fingertips. “They’d give them a date-rape drug and take them to a house. Jared never said whose. They’d…” She looked up, pained. “Please, don’t make me describe that part. It makes me sick to think about.”
He didn’t need her description. He’d seen the pictures in obscene detail. “Okay.”
“Thank you. When it was over, they’d put the girls in their cars, pour whiskey on their clothes, and leave them with an empty bottle. They’d take pictures to show the girls in case they remembered. They made it look consensual so that the girls wouldn’t talk.”
Daniel frowned. None of the pictures he’d seen had incriminated any of the men, and not one looked the least bit consensual. “Did any of the girls remember?”
She nodded dully. “Sheila. And now she’s dead. I can’t get her out of my mind.”
Neither could Daniel. “Go on,” he said, and she drew herself straighter.
“That night, they left Alicia in the woods when they were… finished. In the months before Alicia, Jared had written that he wondered what it would feel like if they were awake.” Annette’s eyes were haunted. “He wanted to ‘hear them scream.’ So that night he went back. He waited until Alicia was waking up, attacked her again, and she started to scream. But they weren’t too far from the Crightons’ house, and Jared all of a sudden realized he didn’t want her screaming after all.”
“So he smothered her to make her be quiet.”
“And then he panicked when he realized she was dead. He ran away and left her there, dead and naked in the woods. He wrote all this when he came back from killing her. He was… exhilarated. Then the next day, they found Alicia’s body in the ditch and Jared was as puzzled as everyone else. He thought it was funny. The others in the club were totally freaked and he alone knew he’d killed her and because that drifter was arrested, he’d get away with it, too.”
And Gary Fulmore had spent thirteen years in prison for a crime he hadn’t committed. “What about the seventh man? Harvard?”
“Again, I always thought that was one of the Woolf brothers. Especially Jim. He was always kind of an egghead.” One side of her mouth lifted sadly. “After you, of course. You had the best grades.”
Daniel frowned. “Did I know you back then?”
“No. But everyone heard about you from Mr. Grant.”
His old English teacher. “He talked about me?”
“He talked about all his favorites. He said you memorized a poem and won a prize.”
“ ‘Death be not proud,’ ” Daniel murmured. “What happened after you found the journals?”
“I knew that Jared hadn’t just run away. I knew they’d disposed of him. In the last few passages, Jared said he was afraid. That when he’d get drunk, he’d talk, and it was getting harder not to talk about what they’d done.”