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She shifted in her chair now. “While our father wouldn’t have approved, both Nash and I would have been fine if Monty had developed a relationship with another young man. But I don’t think he was physically attracted to men. And he was, at that point, just too shy to pursue a relationship with a woman.”
“Girls might’ve been easier.”
It took a moment, then Philadelphia’s puzzled frown turned into the fire of outrage. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
“A shy guy, little to no social networking, homeschooled, indulged, as you said, and at the same time restricted. No serious responsibilities, a lot of time on his hands. And a house full of young girls—some of them, like Shelby, willing to exchange sex for favors.”
“Monty would never have touched any of the girls.”
“You said he wasn’t gay.” Eve leaned forward, pushed herself into Philadelphia’s space. “He’s young, just into his twenties, and all those girls, some of them just starting to bud. A lot of them with plenty of experience from the streets. And there’s Shelby, happy to give a guy a blow job for a bottle of brew or whatever else she wants.”
Philadelphia’s face flamed. “We weren’t aware of Shelby’s . . . activities until Nash caught her stealing kitchen supplies, and she offered to . . . she offered to service him in exchange.”
“So you were aware.”
“She was put on immediate restriction, and her counseling was increased and directed at addressing the situation.”
“Was this before or after she went down on Fine’s helper, Clipperton, for some brew?”
“I wasn’t aware.” She stuttered a bit, and the fire in her cheeks died to ice. “I didn’t know about that. The incident with Nash happened just before the move, just a week or so prior.”
“You put her on restriction, yet she still managed to—how did you put it?—slip through.”
“We failed her. In every possible way. But you have no right, no right, Lieutenant, to try to implicate Monty.”
“Reality,” Eve said flatly. “If she was ballsy enough to go for big brother, little brother would be easy pickings. I bet little brother could get her paperwork to forge. Who notices the shy guy? Little brother could help her access the old building, his first adult home. Little brother’s handy around the house. Little brother could probably build a few walls.”
“How dare you? How dare you sit there and insinuate my brother would kill? The taking of a life is against everything we believe.”
“Your mother took her own life.”
“You won’t use our personal tragedy as evidence. My mother was ill. You’re floundering around because you don’t have a clue who murdered those girls, so you point your finger at my brother who can’t defend himself.”
“Here’s where my finger’s pointing: Little brother’s boxed in, and suddenly the top’s off the box when his father takes off. He’s got substitute parents, a new home—in his siblings and The Sanctuary. He’s a big boy now, a troubled big boy who still has no real responsibilities, no real job, no real purpose. But he’s got hormones. He’s got needs. All these pretty young girls, girls who know the score. Know how to score, like Shelby.
“She uses him. It’s what she does. What she knows. Because she’s been boxed in, too, and she’s damn well going to have her own place, her own way, whatever it takes. Now there’s that big, empty building just sitting there. She needs a way out, and a way in. Monty can help her get both. But once he has, she’s finished with him. He’s not one of her crew, he’s not her friend. He was a means to an end.”
“None of that’s true.” Philadelphia’s breath came fast; her fingers flexed and released on the table. “None of it.”
Eve drove on, hard. “She made him feel like a man, now she’s made him feel useless again. She has to be punished for that. He knows how to get into the building. He’d know how to cop a tranq. He has to make her see what they had was special. She has to give herself over to him, and to the higher pow
er. Accept. He’ll make her accept.”
“No.”
“But she’s with another girl. He hadn’t expected another girl. She’ll accept, too. They’re not scared of him, the shy, awkward guy. Tranqing them’s not hard. Then the rest is easy, too. Maybe it goes too far, maybe he planned to kill them all along, but either way, they’re dead now. Gone to that better place, washed clean. But people won’t understand, so he has to hide them, and what’s handier than right at home? His sanctuary. It was all so easy, really, and how it made him feel? He’s found his mission now. Found his true calling. He only has to find more girls.”
“Everything you said is a lie. Everything you said is hateful.”
“It may be hateful,” Eve agreed, “but it sure is plausible. What I can’t figure is when you found out, why did you just leave the bodies where they were? Or if you didn’t know where he’d concealed them, why you didn’t make him tell you before you shipped him off to Africa?”
“We found nothing out because he’d done none of the things you say.”
“Or did you ship him off?” Eve leaned back with a thoughtful shake of her head. “That’s another puzzler. The shy introvert wakes up in Africa and becomes a born missionary. That’s long odds to me.”
“Of course he went to Africa. It’s documented. People knew him there.”
“I’m working on that. He’d killed, betrayed everything you stood for, and had put your life’s work on the line. Who would sponsor you now? What court would entrust children to your care now? Everything you’d worked for, over. That door that had opened, slammed shut. Will we find his remains, Ms. Jones? Was little brother sacrificed to your higher power?”
