Hanlon nodded and stared at his fingers as he spread them out on the table. “We could add rape to the charges. The new laws say you can report something twenty years old, and this would be under the wire. The more charges we have, the more chances something sticks.”
Peter went rigid in my arms and closed his eyes.
“This is about more than just Black being a disgusting fuck, isn’t it?” I asked, and Hanlon nodded.
Peter turned in my arms to stare at Hanlon. He couldn’t be comfortable twisted the way he was to be held by me, but he had his head resting on my shoulder, and he was nearly falling out of his chair and wasn’t trying to sit any differently. I inhaled the scent of him, clean and slightly musky, as if he’d showered but didn’t have deodorant. I didn’t mind. I pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
“If you go south out of New Gothenburg on the highway, there’s a small unmarked burial ground. It’s in the woods near a crossroads. I always thought he picked those crossroads on purpose. Essex and Rue. I can take you. I see it in my nightmares. I know the way.” Peter shuddered, and I rested my mouth on his head. I wasn’t kissing him, exactly, but I pressed hard there so he could feel me touching him and know he wasn’t trapped anywhere else. “Tatum used to make me come and watch them bury people. That way I’d know to keep my mouth shut. To behave. He thought I was dangerous enough to killhim, I think, but he wanted me. Wanted a tiger by the tail. I don’t know who killed who, mostly, but I saw Black kill more than once. With my own eyes. I can verify that. I don’t have names, but I remember faces.”
Hanlon glanced up toward the mirror and touched the side of his head. I noticed there was something sticking in his ear, maybe an earbud. “We’ll have you go through some missing-persons photos from around that time. We have more than our share of unsolved cases in New Gothenburg. You never tried to stop him?” Hanlon asked with narrowed eyes.
“I was afraid. He… hurt me a lot. I…. It’s fucking embarrassing, but I was scared of him. Worried I’d be next. And he….”
Hanlon nearly quivered, and the excited gleam in his eyes made him seem ghoulish in the face of the horror Peter was talking about. He leaned forward and his gaze flicked to the mirror behind us before he settled his attention firmly on Peter again.
“Would you like your… friend to leave so that you can tell me about the rest of it?” He gestured vaguely at me with his hand, and I tightened my arms around Peter.
This asshole had another thing coming if he thought I was going anywhere. “You can tell him or not. Up to you. I won’t think less of you. Just tell him, or tell him to fuck off,” I whispered in Peter’s ear.
“I think less of me, okay? I’m sorry I said anything about it,” he whispered.
I smoothed some of his tears away, trying to catch them before they reached the stitches on his face. He looked so beaten down. Why couldn’t they do this more gently? It wasn’t like anyone they were asking about could be saved. This pain was so old—all of it. “What do you want? This is about Tatum Black?” I asked, glancing at Hanlon. “No one else?”
“Not currently, no,” Hanlon said carefully, tilting his head at me with renewed interest.
Peter choked on a sob that rocked his entire body.
I closed my eyes. I’d known this might be necessary someday. It was part of why I stuck around at TFC. If by some fucking miracle Beast ever got close to being released, I’d considered maybe I’d have to come in here and do the same thing Peter was doing. I pressed a kiss to his forehead and forced my eyes open. Hanlon rested his chin on his palm and didn’t bat an eye.
“There’s a second graveyard. Unofficial.” Peter reared back to stare at me. “The Aryan Soldiers used to bury people they’d murdered there.”
“The what?” Hanlon asked sharply, and his nostrils flared. “Peter never said anything about them. That organization has been listed as inactive for years.”
“To talk about Tatum Black is to talk about the AS. He started it.” I knew maybe I shouldn’t have brought them into things because there were still a lot of people in New Gothenburg with a vested interest in never having info about the AS see the light of day, but I wanted the cops to leave Peter alone. This was the quickest way to get them to stop badgering him. “The burial ground is on the north side of New Gothenburg. Near the lake where the woods from Bluffs State Park juts up against the water. It’s rough country out there, and an inexperienced hiker would never make it that far. I never personally saw a body go in the ground, but I know where to look. From what I understand, Tatum Black is responsible for every corpse in the ground in that spot.”
Rowdy had told me about it, and how to find it if anything happened to him. He’d even drawn a fucking map. If he was ever hunted down and killed, everyone was going down.
“How do you know?”
“It was an AS legend,” I muttered. Fuck, I sounded shifty as hell. “But I know it wasn’t exaggerated.”
“How?”
“Do you want it or not? I can’t tell you any more, except to help you find it. But you stop grilling Peter. Can’t you see he’s a fucking wreck?”
Hanlon stared at me, and I glared right back.
Peter clawed at my shirt. “Why?” he asked, and I knew what he meant.Why talk now?
“Can’t let you be alone in this. It’ll be a mess.” I rested my forehead on Peter’s. “That’s why I was at Trident Falls. To watch Black. Make sure he didn’t hurt people. Clearly, I fucked up.”
Peter nestled his head down on my shoulder and I held him tight. Panic began to tighten my chest. I’d tell them anything they wanted, but nothing about anyone except Tatum Black. Hopefully my cooperation would mean I stayed the hell out of prison.
“Will you highlight the spot on a map?” Hanlon asked quietly, almost like he was worried he’d make us disappear if he was too loud.
“Only if Peter and I walk out of here together. Tonight.”
“What?” He sat back so hard in his chair that it nearly tipped and he had to grab at the table.
