“Thalia is such a pretty name. Is it Greek?”
The girl looked at her in surprise. “Very good, Lieutenant. My mother is from Athens. Thalia was the Muse of Comedy. She also worked part-time as one of the Graces-Thalia the Flowering. It’s a nice history. I’d like to think that I inspired some creativity at some point in my life. I’d like to teach art, so perhaps it was prophetic of my mother.” They had moved through the nave of the church now, and Thalia pointed to a door.
Taylor followed her out into a small garden, fully enclosed by the surrounding buildings. A pebble path wound through small patches of grass. A few carved statues sat unobtrusively in the four corners, a stone bench sat next to a burbling fountain. They took a seat, Thalia with her back straight and the same beatific smile she’d had on for the past five minutes.
“This is my favorite place. It’s easy to think here.”
A calm had stolen over Taylor, similar to the feeling she’d had inside the church. “I can understand why. Can you teach art if you’re a nun?”
“Of course. Especially in our fast-paced world, where people don’t take time to read. Art can play a huge role in communication, especially to the young. There are certainly centuries of religious works to study.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, then Thalia spoke again, her voiced tinged with sadness. “Jasmine called me. She told me to answer your questions. I don’t know everything about the secret society, but I know some. I’ll help in any way that I can.”
“I appreciate that. Jasmine told me that there is a club of girls who are making sex tapes to be posted on the Internet. What can you tell me about them?”
Thalia contemplated her hands, which were nestled in her lap. “It’s not what they make it out to be, for starters. It’s supposed to be this glamorous, exciting club that everyone wants to be a part of, and only the most beautiful and popular are tapped. You know what being tapped is, right?”
“Yes. You’re chosen by the group, have to go through some awful ritual, then you’re a pledge of sorts.”
“Sounds like you’ve been through it.”
“I have,” Taylor said. “I don’t think it was quite what you’ve gone through, though.”
“Not unless your first task is to fellate the captain of the football team.”
Trying not to show her shock, Taylor answered lightly. “Definitely not. That was your initiation?”
“Yes. I got a note in my locker telling me to go to the Pergola immediately. That’s what they call this small building off the football fields where some of the kids go to smoke. I followed their instructions. They blindfolded me the moment I walked through the door, pushed me to my knees. Explained that they were tapping me and to prove myself worthy, I had to suck off this guy. So I did. Things took off from there. It was sick, and twisted, and the longer I was involved, the more ashamed of myself I became. Blow jobs became sex, the sex became fetishistic, then they started in with the cameras. Fifty points for getting a video up on the Internet, one hundred for selling it to a production house. When I dropped out, they ostracized me. I stopped going to school, got my GED, and started working here. I needed to find a new path, forge a future that I could live with. To find some forgiveness for my stupidity.” She waved a hand in the air, swatting away the memories.
“That’s not what you need to hear. Jasmine said you’re looking for names of the girls who were actually on film.”
“Yes.” Taylor withdrew a folded still shot of the two girls from the video from her pocket. She smoothed it open. “Can you identify either one of them?”
Thalia took the photo. “Both. The one on the left in the pigtails is Tracy Civet, the one on the right is Jere Beisman. Both seniors last year. Both a little nuts, if you want my opinion. They want to do porn full-time. These little movies are going on their resumes.”
“And do Tracy and Jere work solely with Todd Wolff?”
“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? You think they killed his wife.”
Taylor didn’t miss a beat. “Did they?”
Thalia shook her head. “I don’t know. I doubt it, though. They didn’t care about her, she was just the cameraman.”
“She didn’t participate?”
“Not that I knew of.”
Taylor had seen tapes with Corinne as an active participant. She must have started off behind the camera, then decided that wasn’t enough. Evolution.
“How did she feel about her husband having sex with the girls?”
“As far as I know, she was fine with it. She was very professional, always telling you where to be, where to place your legs, your hands, your mouth. ‘Spread those cheeks, girls.’” Her face fell. “This is just what I heard, I never filmed with them. I backed out before it got to that.”
“Let me ask you this. Do you know where they were trying to sell the tapes?”
“Todd Wolff should be able to tell you that. That man is a braggart, always claiming to have an in with this major production house. He took possession of the tapes, sent them on to his boss. When one sold, I mean sold into the stores, he’d split the money with the actresses. It got to be much more than an accumulation of points for Tracy and Jere.”
“How many girls participate, Thalia?”
She’d rewrapped her hands in her lap, wasn’t meeting Taylor’s eyes anymore. “Upwards of ten, probably. I only know of two others who are at this level. It’s kind of like the Masons, you only get to know who is at the higher levels as you progress through them.”
“So you don’t know who the ringleaders are?”
“No. Tracy and Jere were my friends. So I thought. The other two girls were seniors this year. One was killed in a car accident right after graduation. Remember last year, when five girls were killed when they ran into a truck?”
Taylor nodded. It had been a horrific accident, on the news and in the minds of Nashville for weeks.
“The other, her name is Ginny Englewood, she graduated and went to school in Georgia somewhere. ‘Ginny Loves Wood,’ that was her star name. Classy, I know. She didn’t continue her career in film. And unfortunately, that’s all I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I should probably get back to work now.” Thalia’s voice was cracking, bitter tears spilling from her eyes. Taylor knew it was time to stop. She had what she needed anyway.
They stood, and started back toward the door. “You were a huge help, Thalia. I appreciate your honesty. I know it wasn’t easy.”
Thalia left the tears unchecked, shook Taylor’s hand with a firm grasp. “God gives us challenges, Lieutenant. It’s how we deal with them that matters.”
Seventeen, and already imbued with the wisdom of the world. Taylor felt strangely empty when she left the girl behind.
Thirty-Two
T aylor sat in the truck and wrote up the information Thalia had just given her. She needed to get the names of the additional girls to Fitz, let him and Marcus go to work on tracking them down. And Todd Wolff had new charges that needed to be filed against him, for child pornography. With any luck, they’d be able to parlay the charges into a confession, find out who he was selling the tapes to and shut down the operation.
Fitz answered his phone on the first ring. She talked quickly. It only took a few minutes to relay the appropriate information, and he was off. They couldn’t run the risk of him getting caught up in the Oompa’s ire. He’d follow the tracks of her morning’s legwork, legitimizing the information Taylor had received so the case wouldn’t be compromised.
Something didn’t feel right about the secret society. The thought of a group of high school honeys trying to break into the porn industry and recruiting their friends seemed a bit much. Taylor suspected there was an outside force, someone professional who was manipulating the girls. Calling it a secret society, preying on the girls’ insecurities, their fears, their teenage ambitions to be special, famous. Making them think they wanted this life, making it glamorous, fun, a game. Todd Wolff certainly fit the bill.
