Changing the Rules (Richter Book 1)(70)

Claire opened her oversized purse and pulled out several pictures she’d printed out before coming. “This is what I see.” She leaned forward and made sure Marie saw them. The first was a shot of the youngest cross-country runners bringing up the rear of the pack.

Marie’s eyes focused, and recognition seeped in.

She dropped the page to show another. This one a scene from the quad, with young girls that hadn’t found their confidence yet but were surrounded by older students. “And I see this. Don’t these girls look young to you?”

A tiny nod was Claire’s answer.

“Someone targeted you. Maybe they saw a shy girl, or an unpopular girl . . . someone who liked to sneak a little liquor and experiment. Maybe you just wanted to lose your virginity because your best friend did and she told you it was great. Or maybe someone already took that from you and you didn’t think anything after was worth savoring.”

Marie flinched, and Claire knew she hit the right combination. She tucked that knowledge away to deal with later.

“And what I and the people I work with think is that the guy who pulled you away from all this, that guy isn’t working alone. We think he has a lot of help and we’re getting closer to finding them. And I want to find them and stop any of these kids from experiencing what you’ve been through.”

Marie stared at the pictures, wetness behind her eyes.

“We want to know everyone involved. I know you have names in your head. I know you’re scared they’ll find you if you say them out loud. But they all think you’re dead so they aren’t looking for you. They’re moving on to the next kid.”

Claire showed the image of Marie’s cross-country team from when she was there.

“I don’t know any other way of life,” Marie said.

“A lot of nineteen-year-olds don’t know what to do with their lives, but they have the rest of it to figure it out. Protecting these people just gives them the opportunity to make sure you are dead the next time.”

And with that, Claire sat back and stayed silent.

When it seemed Marie wasn’t going to say anything else, Claire gathered the pictures and tucked them back in her purse. “If you change your mind and want to talk, I can come back.”

Claire stood and tried to smile.

Marie closed her eyes.

Damn it.

“The guy who put me here wasn’t the same as the one I left California with.”

Claire sat back down.

Marie looked her in the eye, then directed her attention out the window. “His name was Brian. He went by Big Brian.”

The curtain surrounding the bed moved slightly, and Phelps quietly walked in and sat down.

Cooper stood out of sight of Marie, poised at the door.

Marie glanced at Phelps and continued. “I met Big Brian at a party. Fancy house party with kids from all over the place.”

“Do you remember where the party was?” Claire asked.

She shook her head. “Big house, long driveway. Really nice house with a huge backyard. I remember a firepit with a bunch of kids passing around a bong.”

Claire made a note to get a picture of Milo’s house for Marie to identify.

“Brian had a nice car. I thought he was a senior, maybe nineteen. Later I realized he was already in his early twenties. Not that it mattered. He was older, liked me. Listened.” Marie shook her head, closed her eyes. “In the beginning we’d meet at hotels, make use of the back seat of his car. He never hurt me.” Marie made eye contact briefly. “Not directly anyway. My father . . . there was a night my father had been drinking, told me I couldn’t leave the house. I didn’t like being at home alone with my dad.” Marie’s stare grew cold.

“Your father hurt you,” Claire said.

Marie nodded.

“Sexually.” Claire didn’t phrase it as a question.

A slight nod was all Marie offered.

“With Big Brian it was my choice. He made me feel safe. When he suggested I run away, I packed a bag and didn’t look back. Only it didn’t last.”

“What happened?” Claire asked.

“Big Brian hooked me up with a fake ID. Took me to the Venetian in Vegas.”

Claire sat forward.

“He took me shopping. I remember thinking . . . ‘Where did he come up with the money?’ But I didn’t bother asking. I felt like a princess. He bought me a fancy dress, like something you’d wear to prom. Left me in a spa for half the day. Hair, makeup . . . you name it. I thought he was my savior. At sixteen, I thought Big Brian and I were going to be together forever.” Marie closed her eyes. “I’m so stupid.”

Claire set her hand on the side of the bed. “You were being manipulated.”

“Brian took me to a party. Nothing like a high school thing, this was in a penthouse overlooking Vegas.” She went on to describe some of the other girls at the party, then returned to the man who took her there.

“Big Brian said he had a lot of rich friends he wanted me to meet. Encouraged me to be nice. The guys were older. They wore suits. I tried to act the age on my ID. Big Brian pulled me aside, told me one of the men at the party offered ten thousand dollars if I’d sleep with him. We laughed a couple times. Talked about how crazy that sounded. Big Brian hands me another glass of champagne and then starts talking about what we could do with ten thousand dollars. We could get a nice apartment and a real start on life. It’s this one time.” Marie paused. “It’s this one time.”