“But he threatened you.”
“Bickham said if they got caught they’d all rat me out. I was in it deep enough to do serious time. I’d lose everything.”
“They drugged a lot of girls, didn’t they?”
Ned nodded.
“And all those girls have something in common. You know what it is?”
“I’m not sure what you—”
“They’ve all got fathers, Ned.”
Ned paused before speaking. When he did, his voice was heavy with regret. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish I could…” His voice trailed off . He started to cry, then swallowed the back the tears. “I’m…I’m truly sorry.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing.
Then, trying to keep the fear out of his voice, Ned said, “So…what happens now?”
“Now you tell me exactly how it works. Leave nothing out. You can start with the names.”
“Names?”
“The names of the members.”
“The members of—”
“That’s right, Ned. The members of Fuck Club.”
Ned winced. “I never meant for this to happen,” he said. “They—”
“But it
“Okay,” Ned said. His voice was weary. He’d given up the fight. “I’ll tell you everything I know. And then?”
“And then I’ll end your suffering.” I paused a minute, then thought of something. “You have an insurance policy?”
Ned smiled ruefully. “Cashed it in. See, this whole thing was always about needing more money.”
“How much insurance?”
“The death benefi t would have been a hundred thousand.”
I nodded. “Tell me what I want to know, I’ll make sure your wife gets the hundred grand.”
“You mean—”
“Yeah. I’ll cover it.”
“Anita.”
“Excuse me?”
“My wife. Her name’s Anita.”
Chapter 10
When I look at her I am reminded of all that matters.
It was early afternoon and I was back in North Bergen, where Kathleen rents half a duplex that was so small, I could hear her shower running when I came in the front door. I crossed the living room to the single bedroom and noticed the pile of clothes on the bed that Kathleen had laid out for the trip. The bedroom was twice the size of a standard prison cell, which made it large enough to hold a queen bed, an end table, and a medium dresser. On the far wall was a door that led to the bathroom. I pushed it open a few inches and peeked inside. The shower door was made of ribbed glass. The steam from her shower had fogged it up pretty well, but I could make out enough of her form to get my heart pumping. I silently backed up and closed the door so I wouldn’t startle her.
When she shut off the shower I called her name. A moment later she opened the door, wrapped in a towel. She glided through the bedroom, into the hall, and adjusted the thermostat to a cooler setting. Then she jumped into the bed where I’d been waiting.
