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I pointed to the initials in the green row. “PGE,” I said in a ragged whisper. “Peter Elton’s middle name wasGordon.”
“Oh, shit,” he muttered. He dropped his phone and wrapped his arms around me. “It might not be him,” he said softly, rubbing my back. “Those initials could mean anything. It could be a guy named Paul Gerald Embry. Or Pierce GregoryEdwards.”
I pulled back from his arms, chest growing tight and hot. “No. It has to behim.”
“Did he have a ring with this symbol?” Hunter asked, pointing to the ornate star pattern in the PGErow.
“No. I don’t think he could wear jewelry on his hands when he played the piano. Not something as chunky as a signet ring, anyway. But he had a tattoo on his right ringfinger.”
“What wasit?”
Nausea rose in my throat as I recalled Peter’s long, slim fingers guiding mine over the keys during my first few lessons. “It was a little black serpent tattoo,” I said. “Coiled around the base of that finger. And we know the Network guys love snakesymbols.”
“Fuck,” Hunter muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “So he probablywasamember.”
My breath caught in my throat. “There’s something else, too,” I said quietly. “Something I only justrealized.”
“What?”
“Remember how I told you my parents couldn’t actually afford piano lessons for me, but they were arranged for us for free because my dad did a favor forsomeone?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t mention this when I first told you, because I didn’t think it was relevant, but the person he supposedly did the favor for was yourdad.”
Hunter’s brows shot up. “What?”
“My mom’s car broke down when she was working at your house one day, and he drove her home. He ended up sitting out the back with my dad for ages, chatting and sharing some drinks, and then they called me over. My dad said that your father wanted to know if I had any hobbies or interests, because he’d like to give me something in return for Dad helping him out with something,” I said. “I said I’d always wanted to learn a musical instrument, and your dad suggested the piano. He said he knew a great teacher who used to teach his owndaughter.”
Hunter stiffened. “Lindsay never learned the piano,” he said. “She was never interested inmusic.”
I threw up my hands. “That basically proves it, then. Your dad didn’t know Peter Elton from using him to teach his own kids. He knew him from somewhere else—theNetwork.”
“Jesus,” he muttered, nostrils flaring. “This whole thing keeps getting worse andworse.”
“Yeah.” I nodded grimly. “I think that actually might be how my dad met Peter in the first place. Throughyourdad. It makes sense, because when he got drunk that night and told us that he already knew Peter before my lessons started, he never actually explained how they knew each other. Only that theydid.”
Hunter lowered his eyes. “So he didn’t just decide to sell you to that asshole Elton by himself,” he said quietly. “My dad probably convinced him to sell you to one of his sick friends and brokered the whole deal, and then they made up a story for you and your mom about your dad earning the free piano lessons foryou.”
I nodded again. “That way they had a plausible explanation for why I suddenly needed to go to this man’s house everyweek.”
“But then it all blew up in their face, and Peter went to prison,” he said with a contemptuous curl to his upper lip. “I’m guessing all the Network members take some sort of secrecy oath when they join, so he never ratted on theothers.”
“Yeah. And then your dad decided to try and pull me into the whole thingagain,by giving me the RFA scholarship and getting the Medusa girls to try to recruit me a few years later,” I murmured. There was a lump in my throat now, and it hurt to breathe orswallow.
Hunter rose to his feet, left hand curling into a fist at his side. The other hand grabbed at a row on the opposite shelf, squeezing it so hard his knuckles turned white. His neck was corded, and his face had turned brightred.
“I’m going to kill him,” he muttered. “I’m going to fucking killhim.”
I stood up on shaky legs and went over to him. “Hunter, no. Youcan’t.”
He turned to look at me through narrowed eyes. “He’s the reason that sick fucking sack of shit raped you,” he growled. “He’s the reason you suffered somuch.”
“I know, but you can’t kill him. You need to calm down,” Isaid.
Hunter took a deep breath, eyes shuttering. “I’ve been trying to stop being so angry lately. All for you,” he muttered. “But this… I can’t just let thisgo.”
“I know. But now isn’t the time to strike at him,” I said, grabbing his arm. “If you do something to hurt him, the rest of the Network could realize that we’re onto them and come after us. And right now, we don’t have enough evidence to take them down before that happens. All we have is this book, which doesn’t actually prove much in the end. We need more. Something completelyundeniable.”
