“Okay,” said Liam. “What did her roommate say?”
“That the last place anyone saw Harlow was a bonfire held by some New Agey sisterhood group—maybe witchcraft? And that the head of that group was a woman named Lola Gem.”
“From This Love?” said Liam. “What the hell?”
“LolaRose is a fictional creation of Slater, as is MiaGem,” she said. She’d spent some time reading bits of the fanfic since she’d found out about it from Hernandez. “But the roommate—Catherine Wilson—claims she met Lola in person.”
“Huh,” said Liam. “So, that’s weird. Who would do that? Who would play a role for Finn like that?”
“Did he have… a girlfriend or anything like that?”
“No,” said Liam. “He had me and Destiny.” He considered. “Of course, after what happened, I moved out of our dorm room and went elsewhere. I didn’t see him anymore. So, who knows what he did or what he got himself into.”
“We don’t know,” said Dawson. “There’s another woman, Trina Manning, someone who was supposedly part of the New Agey group, and I tried to talk to her, but she was really weird about it, very defensive, and saying that she should get a lawyer before she talked to me again.”
“Really?” Liam stirred the pasta thoughtfully. “You think she saw something?”
“If it weren’t for the name Lola Gem, I wouldn’t even connect it to Slater, to be honest.”
Liam came over to her and sat down at the table. “Well, the other stuff that doesn’t fit? The bouquet? All of it? We found those things because of the fanfic he was posting, right? And we really don’t have any evidence that Finn did write the fanfic.”
“He puts the quotes from the fanfic on his victims.”
“True,” said Liam.
“And he posted that chapter in Bosom Friends to lure you to the bunker.”
“Also true,” said Liam. “Okay, it’s definitely all connected.”
“Yes, but how?”
Liam held up a finger. “Hold on a second.” He left the room.
She got up from the table. “Hold on? For what?”
“I’ll be right back,” his voice filtered out from far off.
She folded her arms over her chest.
Several moments later, he came back with a shoebox in his arms. “I have a bunch of pictures from college.” He sat down at the table and began sorting through them.
A beep emanated from the stove.
He stood up. “One minute.” He went over to the stove and gave the pasta pot a stir, then removed it from the heat and poured it into a colander in the sink.
“What do pictures from college have to do with anything?” said Dawson.
“I have a picture of Finn that I want to show you,” he said, shaking the colander to get rid of any excess water. He upended the pasta into the same pot as the sauce and stirred. Then he came back to the table.
He dug through the shoe box for a few more seconds, and then pulled out a photograph. He handed it to Dawson.
“I thought you said were looking for a picture of Finn,” said Dawson, who was confused. The photograph was of a tall woman with long blond hair. “Slater, I mean.”
“That is Finn,” said Liam. “It was a costume party, if I remember correctly. Coming in drag was highly encouraged. Here’s me.” He handed her another photo.
Dawson giggled. “You make a horrible woman.”
Liam laughed, taking the picture back. “Yeah, it’s the eyebrows, I think. There’s a trick with a glue stick—”
“I know about the eyebrow trick,” she smirked.
“Right,” he said.
“I have known some drag queens in my time,” she said.
“Yeah,” he said, grinning at her. “Well, anyway, I have very little patience with makeup.”
“Oh, me either,” she said, shaking her head and making a face.
He chuckled.
“Slater, though, he’s… pretty.” She squinted.
“His shoulders are too broad. He could never pass,” said Liam. “But, yeah, he is.”
“I don’t know. I think he could.” She tilted her head one side. “I still don’t understand why you’re showing this to me.”
He got up and went back to the stove. “Maybe that’s Lola Gem.”
“You mean… Slater pretended to be a woman? Why would he do that?”
He got down two bowls and began to dip pasta into them. “I have no idea. Maybe to infiltrate this sisterhood group you’re talking about? Maybe he thought it would be easier to lure in victims if they thought he was a woman too.”
“You just said he’d never pass.”
Liam turned from the stove and shrugged. “Show that picture to the roommate and we’ll know.” He set the bowls of pasta down on the table.
She shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She got out her phone and snapped a picture of the photograph. She sent it to Catherine Wilson, asking, Is this Lola Gem?
Liam handed her a fork.
She set down her phone and took the fork. She twirled some pasta up and put it in her mouth. She chewed, eyes wide, as flavor exploded in her mouth. She swallowed. “That’s amazing.”
“It’s just pasta,” said Liam.
“No, really,” she said. “It’s really good. You’ve been holding out on me, Emerson.”
He chuckled. “Glad you like it.”
She took another bite, closing her eyes as she savored it. “Yum.” She set her fork down. “So, my theory about Slater hiding out in vacation homes seems to be checking out, since he took Madison to one. And he got food delivered out there. I thought maybe that might be rare right now. Maybe I could track food deliveries and cross-reference them with addresses. Maybe we could find him that way.”
“Sounds good,” said Liam. “What about the order that was delivered while Madison was there? How was that paid for? Can you track that credit card?”
She picked her fork up. “Good idea. Why didn’t I think of that?” Her phone beeped. She picked it up. Catherine Wilson had texted back. No, I’ve never seen that person before. Lola was shorter and she had dark hair. She showed the message to Liam.
“Ah, well,” said Liam. “I guess it was too easy, right?”
“Hell, after everything we’ve gone through, we could stand with some easy right now.”
“If only,” he said.
“Never going to happen, though.” She ate more pasta.
“Probably not.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Liam was standing in his bedroom, phone to his ear. “No way. His own credit card?”
“Well, it was connected to his Paypal account,” she said. “Somehow, when they froze his assets, that one slipped through the cracks. Not sure how. Anyway, we’re watching it now, so the next time he uses it, we’ll know.”
“And you’re monitoring all the orders to houses near the ocean?” Liam had been in the middle of trying to tidy up the bedroom when Dawson had called. It was odd, because he hadn’t registered the clutter before, but now it was bothering him.
“Yup,” said Dawson.
“So, there’s nothing to do now but wait?”
“I’m sick of waiting,” she said. “What do you think about the Trina Manning thing?”
“She was cagey when you called her? Possibly hiding something? I’m thinking of the right person?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t know what there is to think,” he said.
“Do you think it would be a waste of time to pursue that?” she said. “Because, I know we need to be tracking Slater down, but it’s bothering me, and I can’t help but feel that if we can unravel what happened in the past, it’s going to help with what’s happening now.”
“I agree,” said Liam. “It’s worth pursuing.”
“Good,” she said. “So, if I can get the captain to go for it, you want to go on a road trip with me?”
“Where does this Trina Manning live?”
“Northern Maryland,” she s
aid.
“Ah, that is a road trip,” he said. “Well, I guess I’m not doing anything, and as long as Belinda and Madison are safe… why not?”
“Excellent,” she said. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
* * *
“Um, I thought I told you that I didn’t want to talk to you,” said Trina Manning, glaring out from her front door at Dawson and Liam. “You should have called first. Like I said, I don’t think I want to talk without a lawyer present, and—” She broke off, taking Liam in. “You.”
Liam raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”
“Who are you? Why are you here? You look familiar to me.”
“Well,” said Liam, “I’m here in a consulting capacity because of my familiarity with Phineas Slater. I knew him well in college. Maybe that’s why you know me?”
“Yes.” Trina’s face broke into a smile. “Econ. MWF 8:10. With Myers.”
Liam nodded. “Yeah, my senior year. I had to take an economics class to finish up my requirements. So, we had that class together?”
Trina let out a breath. “Do you two want to come in?”
Dawson shot him a look.
He shrugged.
“Thank you so much,” said Dawson.
The house was homey in a cluttered sort of way, every spare surface full of ceramic figurines, carved wooden animals, and candles.
Trina led them into a living room, and had them sit on a couch facing a mantle that was crowded with picture frames and knick knacks.
She didn’t offer them anything, but she was friendly enough as she sat down opposite them in a green upholstered chair. “Listen, I really don’t want to talk about all of this, I’m afraid. I can’t go on record with anything. I don’t want to be a witness or to sign any affidavits.”
“It would help me if I understood why you were so reticent,” said Dawson. “Did something happen all those years ago? Did you see something?”
“I don’t know what I saw.” Trina hunched down, bringing up her shoulders. “I can talk to you about it, but this is the only time I want to talk about it. If you ever ask me about it again, I’ll deny it all. I certainly won’t testify to this.”
Dawson furrowed her brow, unsure how to respond to this.
“Those are the perimeters,” said Trina. “Take them or leave them, all right?”
“Fine,” said Liam.
Dawson shot him an annoyed look. Who was he to say that? He wasn’t even employed by the police. On the other hand, if Liam hadn’t come along, she doubted she’d even have gotten entry to the house, so maybe she should take what she could get.
“Well, I think they killed her,” said Trina. “I think it was some kind of weird sacrifice, like for black magic or something. I think they burned her body in that bonfire.”
Dawson’s lips parted. “Did you see a body in a fire?”
“It takes a very hot fire to burn a body,” said Liam.
Dawson gave him another look.
“I watched Making a Murderer,” he said. “It was a big point in the trial.”
“I didn’t see a body in a fire, no,” said Trina.
“Well, let’s stick with what you saw,” said Dawson. “Can we back up a little bit? How did you end up at the bonfire in the first place?”
“I was invited,” said Trina. “By a girl in one of my classes. I think it was an art appreciation class that we had together. We would always hang out before class and talk and smoke cigarettes. It was right before lunch, and sometimes we went to the cafe on campus and ate together, and we’d talk. That was when she invited me to the bonfire.”
“What was her name?”
“Amy,” said Trina.
“Do you remember her last name?”
Trina shook her head. “No.”
“You remember what it sounded like? What letter it started with? Anything?”
“No,” said Trina flatly.
Dawson decided to let this go. Trina had already indicated she wasn’t much willing to share. “All right, so you weren’t part of the group?”
“No,” said Trina. “But Amy said that maybe I would want to join. She said that it was really cool, and that it was helping her with all kinds of things in her life. Like she was manifesting all this success in school and interpersonal relationships. That’s how she talked. She used words like ‘manifest.’”
“So, you decided to go to the bonfire because you wanted success too?”
“I just wanted a party,” said Trina. “I was underage, and I couldn’t go to bars, and I figured it would be easier to beg a beer off of someone at a party. I was looking for a good time. And when I got there, they did give me a glass of wine, and someone topped it off any time it started to get low. So, I got pretty drunk pretty fast. And, at first, I thought maybe things were just weird because I was drunk.”
“So, things got weird? In what way?”
“People were just acting weird,” said Trina. “The Harlow girl, the one you asked me about? She was really drunk, too. And there was another girl there, too. I think her name was, um, it was like a state name… Montana.”
“That’s the other missing girl,” said Dawson. She turned to Liam. “The other one Slater tried to frame you for. Montana Scout.”
“Well, they were, like, competing over who was going to be blessed that night,” said Trina. “That’s what they called it. A blessing. They said a bunch of weird things like, ‘The highest form of love is sacrifice,’ or something?”
Dawson swallowed. That was what Annie Gibbons had said before she shot herself.
“Anyway, I think they were going to willingly give themselves over to be killed,” said Trina. “But I know I saw Montana after that, so it didn’t happen to her that night.”
“No, she went missing later,” said Dawson.
“But they seemed to think that, I don’t know, they were going to go to some other plane or something?” Trina shook her head. “It was really weird. They had both of the girls hold out their palms and they put pressure on them, and then whoever’s hand dropped was eliminated, and that was Montana. So, they stripped off Harlow’s clothes, right there in front of the fire, and they dressed her in this white, flowing gown, and they were all chanting stuff in another language, and it was weird. It was really weird. That was around the point that I decided I wanted to leave.”
“So, that’s all you saw?” said Dawson. “Why don’t you want to testify to this?”
Trina folded her hands together in her lap and looked down at them.
“Are you all right?” Liam prompted in a soft voice.
Trina drew in a breath. “I tried to go, but this girl came after me. I think her name was Laura or something. She seemed like she was the leader of all of it. She talked to me, and I don’t even remember what she said exactly, but I stayed. I came back, and I drank more wine, and everyone was taking off their clothes—except for Harlow, who was still in that long, white gown. I danced around the fire with everyone, and then… I don’t know. I was really drunk, and I was blacking out, but I remember that Harlow seemed to have changed her mind or something. She was crying, and she was trying to get away, and I remember that she came to me, and she was begging me to help her.” Trina paused. She had not raised her gaze.
Trina continued, softly. “I was really out of it. I couldn’t even stand up. But I wanted to help her. I wanted to get up. I just… I didn’t. I tried, and I stumbled, and then they dragged her away, and… well, then the next thing I knew, I was throwing up by the side of the road, and the bonfire was burning way off in the distance. I must have left, but I don’t remember doing it.”
“So, you don’t know what they did to Harlow?”
“I don’t, but she disappeared, right?” said Trina. “I know whatever they were going to do, it was bad, and that Harlow was scared. And I didn’t do anything about it. I remember, the next morning, I woke up, and I remembered all of it, and I had Amy’s phone number. I called her, and she said I was being silly, that Harlow was
fine, and that I should calm down. I let her talk me out of it. She made me feel like I was too drunk to know what I saw. But I always knew, deep down, that I should have told someone, that I should have gone for help that night. I didn’t.”
“I know how you feel,” Liam spoke up.
She raised her gaze then, to look at him. “Really?”
“I saw things too, and I didn’t report them. I wonder what would have happened if I had,” he said. He turned to Dawson. “Can we show her some pictures now?”
“Yes,” said Dawson. She got out the picture of Slater in drag and handed it to Trina. “Did you ever see this person?”
“At the bonfire?” said Trina.
“Yes,” said Liam. “Or anywhere.”
Trina scrutinized the picture. “I don’t think so. Is this a guy in drag?”
“Yes,” said Dawson, taking the picture back. “What about if he was dressed this way?” She handed another picture of Slater over, this one from the time period when he would have been a senior in college.
Trina furrowed her brow. “Maybe? Like, maybe I saw him on campus? I can’t be sure, though.”
“He wasn’t at the bonfire?”
“There were no men at the bonfire,” said Trina.
“No men at all?” said Dawson.
“No,” said Trina. She handed the pictures back.
“Listen,” said Dawson, “as long as you’re telling the truth about what happened, I want you to know that I can’t see anyone coming after you for Harlow’s death. You had nothing to do with it. It would have been good if you had come forward, but you aren’t guilty of a crime.”
“I thought maybe it was like, being an accessory, or something,” said Trina.
“I don’t think so,” said Dawson. “Are you still intent on not testifying?”
Trina got out of her chair. “Well, here’s the thing. Harlow went missing, yes, but they also never found her body. So, I’m not even convinced that she’s actually dead.”
Dawson got up too. “You know that’s only something you tell yourself to comfort yourself, don’t you? Harlow is most certainly dead.”
“I told you the perimeters when I let you in,” said Trina.
The Temptation of Silence Page 12