The eveningthat she received her diploma started a four or five night stretch of lucid nightmares for Salem. Night after night, I was abruptly waking up by the sounds of her whimpers and cries. I’d hold her in my arms, either in bed or in the living room on the couch. She’d say very little, leaving me in the dark and speculating the content of the nightmares.
Her rough days surpassed a week, and when the week approached two, I grew desperate. I reached out to James and arranged lunch with him and Brandon. I thought perhaps Salem would begin talking more with the help of Brandon. James had mentioned that Brandon and Salem being in one another’s presence might actually help both of them. I was willing to try anything because I couldn’t stand seeing Salem so detached.
We arrived at the restaurant, and James and Brandon were already there. We all exchanged pleasantries and sat down. I tried not to stare at the area around Brandon’s mouth to see if he had any lasting scars from having it pierced shut. Each time I saw Brandon, though, it put things into perspective for me. Salem had issues too, but she wasn’t nearly as much of a nervous wreck as Brandon was. He was lucky to have James.
The conversation started out light as we talked about traffic, the weather, and the food on the menu. Brandon spoke up and asked Salem if she was originally from Southern California. I held my breath that Salem would talk and not nod or give a one-word answer. My silent prayer was answered, and she explained she was born in San Diego and then moved around a lot. She told Brandon that she remained in Chula Vista the longest before moving to Beverly Hills.
My heart skipped a beat when it was discovered that Salem and Brandon had gone to the same high school. James and I glanced at one another at this revelation. Salem even mentioned a nickname that Brandon had gone by. Apparently, he was quite a track star and sprinter.
While Salem went on a tangent about how much she disliked their high school, my mind ran wild with their connection.Had the other kids all been students at the same high school? Was there some other connection that we hadn’t made yet? Did we have a serial kidnapper at play?I wanted to delve into each of these questions more thoroughly with the team, but right now it was so hard not to be happy with the simple fact that Salem was talking.
They’d talked about Brandon’s addiction to goofy socks, track, spirit assemblies, genealogy club, and some teachers they’d both recalled having.Had a teacher at the school put them in the hands of Sebastian?Of the people that were arrested, including Sebastian, none of them had admitted that there had been anyone else involved.
Salem ended up emotional out of the blue. This was common for her, and though I knew James understood this, I still tried to explain it. I didn’t want Brandon to think he had said something to upset her. This just happened, and Brandon commented that he’d gone through this as well.
If my mind hadn’t been reeling from the discovery of their connection before Sebastian, it damn near exploded when Brandon pulled his phone out and logged into his Instagram account. He scrolled through tons of pictures, and all of a sudden, Salem gasped and leaned back against the seat. I looked at Brandon and noticed how pale he was.What the fuck had happened?
“Salem?” I prompted, hoping that would jar her into talking again. Her eyes met mine, and I knew there was something very wrong. There was something in one of the pictures that set both of them off.
Suddenly turning cold, she took a sip of her water and then brushed her hair behind her ears. She cleared her throat and asked Brandon how he knew the man in the photo. The screen had probably a dozen or so thumbnail pictures on it, and there was another man in some of the images with Brandon.
Brandon started to say the name of the man in question, but it was as though it was far too much for him to be able to muster. All I knew was that it started with the letter E. Whoever it was had caused a severe physical reaction in Salem and Brandon. I asked Salem if she knew who the man was in the picture, and Brandon began falling apart.
While we waited for the check, Salem went into interrogation mode with Brandon. She asked him how he knew the man, and if they were friends. I stepped in, reminding Salem that she was being pushy with Brandon. The poor guy looked like he could be sick at any moment, and I didn’t want Salem making anything worse for him.
With tears that threatened to spill over, she looked up at me. She explained that Brandon knew the man who had sold her to Sebastian. I felt like a tub of ice had been dumped over me. At the mention of being sold to Sebastian, Brandon urgently needed out of the booth. As Brandon headed to the door, Salem asked him if he had been a patient of the man.
Fuck, so we have a motherfucking doctor here.
As soon as James and Brandon left, I sent James a text asking him to find out what he could about that man and to send me the pictures. The man in the pictures might very well be the responsible party in all of this. Salem was quiet the entire way home, and when we got there, I tried to open up a conversation about this.
“What kind of doctor was he?” I asked as I made her a cup of tea while she sat at the kitchen table. I really had no idea what kind of doctor he was. He could have been a dentist even.
“He’s a psychologist,” Salem volunteered without needing much prodding.
“How long were you a patient of his?” I asked.
“Not very long. Just during my senior year,” she’d mumbled. I set the mug of tea down in front of her before taking a seat beside her at the table. “After we moved from Chula Vista to Beverly Hills, my mom was worried that I was withdrawn and too much of a loner. She, and her jerk boyfriend, thought I was having a difficult time adjusting to the new school. They thought it would be good for me to talk to a counselor to see if they would be able to help me come out of my shell more.”
Though it was on the tip of my tongue to ask her for this doctor’s name, I knew it wasn’t a good time to ask. While Salem worked on her genealogy stuff, I read over some of the old case reports. I was looking for something that maybe had been missed the first time around. With my mind only halfway focused, I reached for my phone when I saw it light up with an incoming text. James had sent me some of the pictures with Brandon and the man. A chill ran down my spine when I zoomed in on him.
Holy fucking shit.
My heart pounded as I opened each picture and zoomed on the man’s eyes.
Son of a fucking bitch.
He was the masked man at the parties.
After dinner, I talked Salem into watching a movie together. I held her in my arms while we watched a made for TV movie. I wasn’t really watching it at all, but I used that time to keep her in my arms while I mentally retraced my interactions with that fucking prick. I knew I needed to get up early in the morning and comb back through the reports, looking for anything else that I might have missed regarding people who had been arrested. Sebastian knew who all of the guests were at his parties, but during the interrogations, he’d never given up a single name.
Before we went to bed, I asked her for the name of the doctor, but she retreated into her shell. That began a long, sleepless night for me. In between short bursts of sleep and Salem waking up from nightmares, I went over each time I interacted with the masked man.
Had he been there from the start?
Was he the ringleader?
Were all of the kids there because of him?
