When You See Me (Detective D.D. Warren #11)(85)

“The more we learn about this town—from the multiple victims spanning years, to the involvement of the mayor and his wife, to the presence of Jacob Ness and his father, even the motel guy trying to kick us out—I’m convinced we’re looking at some sort of criminal enterprise. Not one crime, but many. Not one perpetrator, but perhaps as many as a dozen.”

A sobering thought. “Okay.”

“Now.” Keith warms to his subject. “Think about what we learned last year about the dark web. You can’t just log on to some criminal chat room. First, you have to have some other disgusting pervert vouch for your pornographic addiction, or you must provide explicit proof of your own evil doings, making you just as guilty as everyone else in the room. Basically, you have to prove you are a criminal before you can hang out with other criminals.”

“Okay.”

“Martha Counsel, her illegal kidney transplant. That made her guilty. Which also made her eligible for the organization. Jacob Ness, serial rapist. No problem establishing his criminal bona fides. Then there’s this mystery guy who may have killed Martha Counsel, maybe even those girls in the woods. Definitely, he’s earned his membership.”

I nod against his shoulder. In this day and age, more and more predators were seeking each other out. Maybe not always in person, but at least on the internet, via the dark web. Even Jacob, a complete loner, had clearly been learning tricks of the trade from various chat rooms.

But yes, any time predators interacted with one another, they took the risk of exposing themselves. Hence an elaborate system of personal referrals and/or proof of deviousness, such as compromising images that would make the new person just as vulnerable as everyone else in the network.

“So, first requirement of membership: a history of evil. But a criminal operation is really no different than a business. You don’t just want miscellaneous employees, you want skill sets. Which brings us to the second requirement for membership: You need to have something to offer the group.”

I think about it. “Martha has the hotel. A way station for other group members to come and go without anyone noticing. Jacob . . . he could’ve provided transport. Maybe even provided girls. Lilah Abenito, maybe he did kidnap her. Except not for himself. He brought her here, for the group instead.” I tilt my head up. “So why didn’t he do that with me? Why did he keep me instead? Especially, having brought me to his new friends’ backyard.”

“I’ve been considering that. Socially speaking, Jacob was a loner. You never saw him with others.”

“Never.”

“So I’m wondering if he didn’t play around on the dark web, perhaps become involved in whatever is going on around here, as a sort of master class. He helped them, and in return, he learned how to cover his tracks on the computer, how to utilize abandoned cabins in the woods, that sort of thing. You said he accepted that he was a monster. That he had no interest in reform.”

“No. He was who he was, and he was proud of it.”

“Then I think this was his education of sorts. And for that, he gritted his teeth and dealt with others. But a loner is a loner, right? So once he learned what he needed . . .”

“He went back to his loner ways.”

“Confident in the fact he could now get away with an even more elaborate crime, such as not just kidnapping a girl, but holding her for over a year.”

I nod. It makes a crazy kind of sense.

“Here’s the deal. A business is a business and everyone has a role. Using that as a model, we should be able to start homing in on individuals around town to question. Transport. With Jacob gone, they’d need someone else to provide girls for illegal labor, organ transplants, whatever.”

“Walt Davies,” I murmur. “His trips to Atlanta to sell microgreens. Maybe that’s all just a cover for what he brings back.”

“I thought of that. We’re going to need to speak to him again.”

I nod.

“Howard and Martha Counsel are lodging. The mystery man . . . I’m thinking he’s muscle. Like, the enforcer of the operation. A girl gets out of line, a member of the organization appears on the verge of talking—”

“He takes action.”

“Exactly. Now let’s consider other roles. Marketing. Which I’m guessing takes place over the dark web. These ghost tourists who are coming into town. Who is reaching out to them, or how do they know to come here? Gotta be a dark web interface. Only way it could work.”

“Agreed.”

“Meaning we need to start asking around for someone with computer skills. That person will be the gatekeeper of a massive amount of information. Find him or her, we could blow this thing wide open.”

I look up at Keith. “Didn’t the ATV guy mention something? A town clerk who was working with the mayor starting ten years ago to boost Niche’s profile, lure in tourists?”

“Dorothea,” Keith murmured. “I think that was her name. And yeah, she fits perfectly. Raising the town’s profile could very well be a euphemism for advertising goods on the dark web. Lodging packages could refer to all sorts of things. Yes, let’s start by interrogating the town clerk. Perfect!”

“You’re good at this.”

“Remember that tomorrow when SSA Quincy and Sergeant Warren tear my theory to shreds. But, Flora, there’s an even bigger role we haven’t discussed yet.” Keith sits up straighter, peers down at me earnestly. “Who’s running this enterprise? The missing cook? She doesn’t sound smart enough. The missing maid? Quincy has already said she’s most likely a victim, not a perpetrator. That leaves us with this UNSUB they’ve talked about—but again, he sounds more like brawn than brains. Meaning . . .”