Judgment

by Carey Baldwin

  As for the rest of you, those who have not yet achieved your rank, do not worry. With the help of our brave lieutenants, we will find a way to carry on. You must have faith in yourselves and in the group. However, because the authorities might be monitoring our messages (I hope this is not the case, but I can no longer be certain), I implore you all to cease any file sharing. Your images, your fantasies, your stories must be kept private from here on out.

  I’m afraid I have no choice but to invoke the emergency protocol. To wit, I am calling an urgent in-­person summit of all lieutenants. Attendance is mandatory, or you will be stripped of your rank. Although I am sorry for the short notice, twenty-­four hours should give you time to travel. We will meet at the appointed time and place.

  For everyone:

  All computers, cell phones, and other devices that may contain evidence of our group should be sanitized immediately.

  As of now, this site is no longer operational. At the summit, we will make a plan for moving forward. As a reminder, horror cannot be contained. Although it has no home, it does not wander the earth but rather exists in our heart of hearts. I’ll be waiting for you at the journey’s end. I know you will find your way. Until then, be well.

  MIM

  Chapter Thirty

  Monday, September 23

  Scottsdale Highlands Apartments

  Scottsdale, Arizona

  DIZZY LEONARD STARED at her computer through a blur of moisture. The words seemed to elevate from the page and float to her on a sea of tears. As she read the tweets, they felt as real as a hand clutching her by the throat and choking the breath out of her. Maybe it was the new medicine they gave her at the hospital, or maybe the words really had come to life.

  Don’t cry, Dizzy. Don’t let them win.

  She swiped her eyes with the back of her hand and reread the Twitter stream:

  LilaB @QueenBee

  He likes a different girl #DumbDizzy @DizzyGal

  TrudyCypher @TrudyPie

  I heard she got kicked out of the party. Bye-­bye @DizzyGal #DumbDizzy

  KakiAndrews @KakiWaki

  OMG. Does she think he’d go with a loon? #DumbDizzy

  @DizzyGal

  LilaB @QueenBee

  She took pills but she didn’t die #DumbDizzy

  @DizzyGal

  KakiAndrews @KakiWaki

  Take more pills @DizzyGal #DumbDizzy #WhyDon’tYouDie?

  LilaB @QueenBee

  Take more pills @DizzyGal #WhyDon’tYouDie?

  TrudyCypher @TrudyPie

  Take more pills @DizzyGal #WhyDon’tYouDie?

  Why don’t I die?

  I want to die.

  “Dizzy!” Mom was coming. With her heart pounding in her chest, she clicked her browser closed. If Mom saw the tweets, she’d go to the principal again, and things would get worse.

  Worse?

  How could things get worse? The whole school already wanted her to die. The whole school knew she couldn’t even do one thing right. All those pills she took, and nothing had happened except Mom took her to the hospital and they put a tube in her stomach and pumped charcoal into her. Then they gave her different pills they said would make her feel better. They didn’t even keep her overnight. They said it was a cry for help—­but why hadn’t they answered it? Mom got a card for a psychiatrist, but the psychiatrist didn’t have any appointments until next month, and the new pills didn’t help at all. The new pills made her feel strange and say things she didn’t mean to Mom. Nothing was ever going to get better.

  Why don’t you die?

  Mom poked her head in her room. She didn’t even knock. She said Dizzy had lost her privacy rights when she tried to off herself. Now Mom just walked in whenever she pleased, and there was nothing Dizzy could do about it. “Everything okay in here, Dizzy gal?”

  “Sure, Mom. Everything’s perfect. Abso-­fucking-­lutely perfect.”

  “Dizzy! There’s no need for language.” Mom sounded more tired than angry. Dizzy was wearing her out. She worked all day and came home to a troubled teen. Dizzy overheard Mom’s friend say that on the phone. Mom said, no, it wasn’t that bad, but Dizzy knew it was all true.

  She spun in her chair and faced her mother. “You’re right, Mom. I’m sorry.” In a way, she really was. She was sorry to hurt Mom, but Mom would get over it. She folded her arms across her chest, determined. Next time she’d get it right. Mom would get over it. In the end, Mom would be better off without her.

  Mom tilted her head. “Dizzy, have you been crying again?”

  Geez, great detective work. “No, Mom.”

  Mom crossed the room and stood before her, then she bent and kissed her on the cheek. Mom smelled like tequila. Dizzy had driven her to drinking at night again. “You know you can tell me anything. If something’s wrong, I want to help you. I’m going to call that psychiatrist again tomorrow and make him give us a sooner appointment. I love you, Dizzy.”

  “I love you, too, Mom.” She really did, even if she drank too much tequila, Dizzy didn’t care. Mom always did her best.

  Dizzy waited until Mom left the room. Mom left the door partway open, like she always did these days. But once Dizzy heard footfalls on the stairs, she knew it was safe. She opened her browser.

  Fuck Twitter.

  She had somewhere better to go. She had friends in a secret group. She loved knowing a secret. Even if no one had answered her message, she felt like a part of things already. The deep web was dark and dangerous and the safest place for a girl like Dizzy to hide. The kids at school would never follow her there. They didn’t even know how. But Dizzy was smart enough to figure it out. All those hours online had paid off. Dizzy could do just about anything online. And the men in Labyrinth wanted something that she could give them. Labyrinth was one of those fantasy games with photoshopped pictures and made-­up horror stories. Her hand trembled on the mouse when a little voice whispered in her head.

  Those pictures look real.

  They had to be fake, though, right?

  She’d told them she would be their whore. It was only a game—­but even if it wasn’t, she didn’t care. If someone wanted to kill her, they would only be doing what she hadn’t been able to do for herself.

  #WhyDon’tYouDie? @DizzyGal

  Nothing felt real anymore. Life was a game.

  She listened for noises downstairs to be sure it was still safe. Then she logged on.

  When she found the message, she shoved her math book onto the floor. It landed with a loud thud, and she hoped Mom wouldn’t come up to check on her again.

  No. No. No.

  This couldn’t be. The e-­mail said no more messages could be sent on the loop, and no one had answered her e-­mail yet. No one had told her how to become a real member of the group. With her mouse, she highlighted the text:

  As of now, this loop is no longer operational. At the summit, we will make a plan for moving forward. As a reminder, horror cannot be contained. Although it has no home, it does not wander the earth but rather exists in our heart of hearts. I’ll be waiting for you at the journey’s end. I know you will find your way. Until then, be well.

  MIM

  SHE HAD TO find the summit. She didn’t have the emergency instructions, but she did have the clue: Horror cannot be contained. Although it has no home, it does not wander the earth but rather exists in our heart of hearts.

  All she had to do was find the summit.

  They would all be waiting for her there.

  Chapter Thirty-­One

  Tuesday, September 24

  Paradise Valley, Arizona

  SPENSE HAD BEEN right. An invitation had been much simpler to obtain than a warrant would’ve been. Louisa Baumgartner must’ve been anxious to know the reason for their earlier visit because she’d invited them to return to the house the very
next morning. Of course, the situation wasn’t ideal since they couldn’t access Baumgartner’s computer or formally search the house, but it was a start. Elizabeth answered the door and escorted Caitlin and Spense into the living room. Before the girl could announce them, however, Louisa raised one finger high in the air. “That will be all, Elizabeth. I don’t require refreshments today, and I’ll ring you if I need you.”

  “Thanks for speaking with us.” Spense got straight to it. “I’d hate to have to do this down at the station.”

  Harvey Junior was seated in an armchair facing his mother. He smiled warmly despite Spense’s terse words. “Welcome back. Mother and I are anxious to be of ser­vice. Anything we can do to catch this bastard.”

  Louisa looked taken aback. “As I’ve said, I’m not only happy to cooperate, I’m eager to be of help. So I cannot imagine why you would suggest we come down to the precinct simply to answer a few additional questions.”

  “Well, it was more than kind of you to invite us here to your lovely home instead. And I do apologize for the crude suggestion that we interview you down at the precinct. Now that I think about it, I can see how mortifying that would be for the family. I’d never want the press to draw the wrong conclusion. Conducting the remainder of the interview in your home was a much better idea. Now then, since we’re all present and accounted for, I just have a few more things I need to clear up.” It must’ve cost Spense dearly to pull out that obsequious tone of voice for Louisa Baumgartner.

  “Is it about the death threats Harvey received?” Louisa asked, her shoulders dipping into a more relaxed position.

  “No. It’s about Harvey himself.” Spense softened his words with a smile.

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Harvey was the victim of a terrible crime. I don’t know why no one seems interested in tracking down those death threats.”

  Caitlin couldn’t stop herself from speaking. How could this woman be so blind? “Mrs. Baumgartner, are you aware that the two live-­in girls in your employ, Deejay and Elizabeth, are underage?”

  Confusion filled her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean by underage. Both girls are seventeen, and I’ve completed all the proper paperwork. Even now, they only put in a few hours’ work a day. They’re paid good wages and have health benefits. I pay social security, too. I can assure you this is all perfectly legal.”

  “Are Elizabeth and Deejay in school?”

  “It’s hardly our fault the girls dropped out. I don’t know what more we could’ve done. We’ve put a roof over their heads and provided for their every need. Why, I’d love for them to get their GEDs if they were so inclined. But frankly, neither one seems all that bright or motivated to go on with her schooling.”

  “So that’s a no. They’re not in school. Do they have friends? Do they get out and socialize with their peers?” Caitlin tried but failed to imitate Spense’s respectful tone.

  “Everything proper for a domestic employee has been handled. My husband saw to that.”

  “I bet he did.” Spense said. The gloves had just come off.

  Caitlin shot him a smile. Good cop bad cop switcheroo time. Keeps folks on their toes. “Don’t be rude, Agent Spenser.” She reached out and patted Louisa’s hand, and the woman jerked away like Caitlin had coated her palm with flesh-­eating bacteria. “Naturally, Harvey would have seen to all the legalities, Louisa.” She smiled sweetly. “I believe Special Agent Spenser means the girls are below the age to consent to sexual acts.”

  Louisa’s face went as white as her best china. “Sexual acts?”

  On a deeply sympathetic sigh, Caitlin said, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but Agent Spenser and I have reason to believe your husband may have been abusing Elizabeth and Deejay.”

  Mrs. Baumgartner’s back straightened. Her expression turned from disbelief to outrage. “My husband abused these girls? He absolutely did not. He doted on them. He lavished them with . . . with . . .” She stopped, and her eyes flitted nervously about the room.

  “He lavished them with affection?”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  Junior bolted to his feet, and Caitlin worried they were about to get tossed out. She ignored him and kept her attention on Louisa. “What did you mean then?”

  “I only meant to say Harvey did what he could for the less fortunate of this world, and that includes not only those girls out there in the kitchen, but your father, too. Because of you, my dear Caitlin, and your family, I had to endure all manner of social humiliation. Because of you, I was almost kicked out of the Woman’s Club. During your father’s trial, someone started a petition to exclude me.” Her nose went up. “Fortunately, my influence and spotless reputation were enough to prevent such an injustice.”

  Junior took a seat next to his mother and handed her a hanky. She sniffled into it and blinked away more tears than Caitlin had yet seen her shed.

  Such an injustice.

  She wanted to grab Louisa by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled loudly enough to wake up her brain. The woman seemed to be walking through life in complete ignorance of the plight of others. Taking an interest in her neighbors only so long as it didn’t interfere with her privileged life. Caitlin’s father was dead. Executed for a crime he didn’t commit, and this woman saw her membership troubles at the Woman’s Club as the only injustice worth shedding a tear over. “I’m so terribly sorry for any pain you may have suffered on my account. Really, I simply cannot express how badly I feel about that.”

  “Well”—­Louisa gathered herself and made the effort to send Caitlin a warm look, as if suddenly realizing her façade had slipped—­“naturally, your family suffered far more than mine. You must think me terribly small to worry over such matters as a ladies’ club when your father was fighting for his life.” She smiled a sycophantic smile. “I never did believe Thomas Cassidy killed that poor girl. What was her name again?”

  “Gail Falconer,” Junior supplied.

  “That’s the only reason I was able to endure that awful, awful trial.” Even when Louisa was trying to take the high road, she couldn’t quite conceal her own selfish unhappiness over her temporary loss in social standing.

  “Back to the girls.” Spense played up his bad cop role. “Did you know your husband was sleeping with them?”

  Louisa put her hand to her throat. “Have they made that claim?”

  “No.” Caitlin put in quickly. She would never get comfortable with certain tactics, like lying about the facts of a case as a means to an end.

  “Then please don’t say such things in front of Junior. How dare you accuse my husband, this boy’s father, of misusing those poor girls. If they haven’t said so, it’s because it isn’t true. For your information, my husband . . .” She sniffled into the tissues and turned to her son. “I’m sorry, Junior, could you leave us a moment.”

  He put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s not necessary, Mother, we’re all adults, and you can speak freely in front of me.”

  Louisa nodded, then looked down at her nails. “My husband and I had a very happy marriage. He was quite satisfied . . . in every way. I made sure of that.” Defiantly, she met Spense’s eyes. “There was simply no need for him to go outside the marriage . . . for anything.”

  “What if he wanted something kinky?” Spense challenged.

  Louisa tossed back her long, platinum blond hair and thrust her overblown breasts forward. “Then I gave him something kinky. I was a good wife to him, and he was a good husband to me.”

  Throughout this rather dicey discussion, Junior never took his arm from around his mother’s shoulder.

  “So then your husband did have some kinky fantasies.” Spense was definitely going to get them kicked out, Caitlin thought.

  But no one objected to the question. She was amazed at the polite behavio
r from all parties present. Apparently, this was a home where one kept one’s anger in check . . . She could relate.

  “Everyone has kinky fantasies, Agent Spenser. If you don’t believe me, just take a look at the bestseller lists. And please, stop trying to make my husband out to be something he wasn’t. He was a good husband. A great one even.”

  “And a really good provider, right?”

  Junior’s arm came back to his side, and he leaned forward. “Look here. I’d hoped you had some information for us, but now I see you have nothing new. If you’re looking to paint a picture of my father as an unsavory character and trying to say he was killed because of his bad behavior, you’re on the wrong track. My father may have defended the corrupt and the perverse”—­here he threw a pointed look at Caitlin—­“but he himself was an honorable man. In fact, why don’t you come with me? I’d like to show you some of his awards.”

  This was going even better than Caitlin had hoped. Junior was actually going to take them into his father’s office. Not that such a thing was entirely unexpected. She’d besmirched the good Baumgartner name, and that was intolerable to Louisa and Junior. Naturally, they’d want to counteract the accusations by showing off Harvey’s trophies and reasserting his standing in the community, and by extension, their own. They were either too stupid to realize or too arrogant to care that she and Spense had come here precisely to get a look around Harvey’s personal space.

  They all got to their feet, and Junior beckoned for them to follow him down a long corridor, past a number of rooms and a guest bath, until finally they arrived at Baumgartner’s office: a masculine room with a massive rolltop desk, expensive leather chairs, and multiple diplomas on the wall. Pretty typical at first glance. Then she noticed that the room was windowless and saw that the door had a dead bolt on the inside. Seemed very odd anyone would want to work in a room without windows—­and why the need to lock the world out?