“How’s Avery?” I ask, glancing at the door.
“Fine so far. Sound asleep.”
We move toward the kitchen doorway.
“Briggs, thank God. We need coffee,” Reynolds says, giving his arm a squeeze as she passes. “I’ve got so many notes, Erik, but I’m so tired my brain is kind of fried. Can you write it?”
“Yeah.”
Within minutes, the three of us are seated around the kitchen table. Shane is mostly silent, but it’s apparent he’s listening out of more than curiosity. He wants to be sure no details make it into the story that he and I might want left out.
“Have either of you heard of the CC?” Reynolds asks.
“No,” I say.
“Last night, the Lambda Delta president came to the crime scene. He was visibly upset when he heard that the perpetrator was Smith-Hall because he’s been a powerful Lambda Delta mentor for years. The president told the FBI he’d come across old diaries that caused him to suspect Smith-Hall of encouraging the perpetuation of the Casanova Club, an unofficial group within the fraternity from years ago.”
“It’s actually called that?” Shane says. “I was being facetious when I called them a Casanova fan club.”
“It’s crazy,” she says. “Late in the first half of the 1900s, a club was formed whose main premise was that women on campus should be treated as a commodity, like food or water. Basically, girls should be manipulated into becoming a source of ready sex, using charming coercion, the kind employed by the original Casanova. The CC was revived in the 1990s. The GU men—principally Lambda Deltas—studied the original club’s history and practiced its tactics.”
She blows her hair from her eyes, scowling. “The CC was meant as a counterpoint to the Dark Knights, whose existence many men resented. Over the decades, scores of women were manipulated into sexual servitude to members of the CC. The men collected graphic photos and videos of the women they groomed. The women stayed silent under threat of exposure.”
Shane leans back and folds his arms across his chest. “Keep going, Cami. I want to hear everything.”
“Apparently, when Smith-Hall was a student, he wanted to become a Dark Knight because Emmanuelle Heyworth was drawn to them. There’s a family legacy. Both Stowe and Smith-Hall were obsessed with Elle Heyworth and became vicious rivals.”
Emmanuelle.That’s the name Smith-Hall mentioned last night. Was he referring to Avery? Like Declan’s mother, Avery’s pretty with pale skin, nearly black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. When the professor watched her in class, did she remind him of the girl he coveted during his own college days?
“Brock Stowe was friendly with Lizzie Heyworth,” Reynolds continues. “There were rumors that he ended up a Dark Knight because of the connections he made through her. Elle Heyworth never dated Stowe or Smith-Hall, and Smith-Hall was bitter about it. That’s when he resurrected the CC. When recruiting his fraternity brothers, he billed the club as one that taught men how to pick up women and get laid quickly. There was a note about Brock Stowe wanting to be in the CC, but they barred him. At some point in the past month, Brock may have remembered the old club and confronted Smith-Hall about it. That could’ve gotten him killed.” She shrugs. “The LDK president says Smith-Hall denies his involvement in the CC, but the writing in the fraternity journals from the 1990s looks like his handwriting.”
“Conjecture,” I say.
“Yeah, but if Smith-Hall wrote in them, some of his DNA may be on the pages. By the way, I found the burner phone last night in Smith-Hall’s car. The FBI confiscated it, but not before I had a chance to look through it and make some notes. It’s exactly as you suspected, Erik. Smith-Hall didn’t carry his personal phone during the abductions. Maybe he left his personal phone in California this time, so it’ll look like he’s there.”
She leans forward, her voice rising. “As Casanova, he carried the burner phone, powering it off when he didn’t need it. That’s going to implicate him as the mentor to the Lambda Deltas. Based on something in the phone, I think Casanova told the LDKs that Arya reported them to the administration, accusing them of committing felony kidnapping and assault of some girls at a party. He was goading them. I think he wanted them to deal with you and Arya for him. He didn’t like you being together.”
“Arya saw him,” I say. “His mask or something must have been a key to identifying him.”
“And he knew as Riksen you run down every lead. Sooner or later, you would’ve hit upon it.” Reynolds offers a small shrug. “Now, the FBI will unravel it. They’ll dig up everything there is on FMH.”
“FMH, Faculty Mentor Hall.” I say.
Her eyes widen. “Oh, my God. Do you think the LDKs knew Smith-Hall was Casanova?”
“Can’t say.” I pop the stiff joints of my right index finger. “Wilson maybe.”
We settle in, and Reynolds runs through her voice notes. Then, despite coffee, she hits a wall and goes up to bed. Shane and I move to the library. He’s preoccupied and stares off into space for a while.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Yeah. Just waiting to see how Avery feels when she wakes up after the drugs have worn off. Facing a media shitstorm is not what I want for her today.”
I’m about to respond when Arya wanders into the room with a steaming cup in hand. “Morning.”
“Hey,” Shane says, standing up. “Thank you again for everything you did last night. Anything you ever need, say the word. Seriously, anything.”
“Thanks, Shane, but you don’t need to thank me for helping Avery. It was the best thing I could’ve done for myself and every girl on campus. And Avery’s the one who cut his artery. We were in it together.” She walks over to stand near me. “Got room for me?”
