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“Sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t much into that.”

“From a certain point of view, the thing reads like a role-playing game before that type of entertainment fully existed,” Pollack answered. “So the book got passed around and quoted. Like an inside joke, except these kids were taking it seriously. For a while, maybe even to this day, parts of the book got used as a way to weed out more advanced players from newbies. This subculture made it their own.”

“Gatekeeping,” I said.

“Exactly,” Pollack answered.

“Back to the phrase though,” I said.

“You’re saying Derrek Sidney used it?” Pollack asked. “Like he said it to his victims?”

“Maybe,” I answered.

“Wow,” Pollack gasped. “In that context, that’s pretty dark. He’d basically be telling them he’s performing a benediction by killing them. Bestowing an honor on them. That’s how the phrase is used in the gaming world. Either right before or right after some hero kills a monster or another player.”

“Thank you,” I said. “That’s enlightening. And you’re saying owning this book in particular would be pretty rare?”

“The book? Yes,” Pollack answered. “It had a print run of maybe a thousand. Every once in a while one will turn up at a second-hand bookstore, I’d assume. Again, the resale value is pretty good. I only know it because when I taught the class, I had to get creative getting it into my students’ hands. I had two physical copies that I paid about two hundred bucks apiece for. I was able to make copies under the Fair Use Act to avoid getting dinged for copyright infringement.”

“But getting access to the text itself isn’t so rare,” I said. “Meaning it would be pretty easy to do.”

“If you know where to look. Yes. That wasn’t true thirty years ago. Even twenty. Now? Hell. You could probably throw the right prompt into an AI chat and get the whole thing spit right back out at you. It’s a scary world we live in.”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“I’d be happy to loan you one of my copies if you think it’ll help,” Pollack said. “If Kent vouches for you, that’s no problem.”

“Of course,” Kent said. “Mercy’s good people. Her old man is E. Thomas Gale.”

“This phone call is taking turns I did not expect.” Pollack laughed. “Text me your address. I’ll pop the book in the mail today. I’m on my way to the post office anyway. It’ll get to you tomorrow or the next day at the latest.”

“Thank you so much,” I said. “Both of you.”

The men said their goodbyes. It was nearly impossible to focus. But I finished my meeting with Kent (yes, it looked like Liza Derby did indeed have a man on the side).

Dad walked in as soon as Kent Derby left.

“Thin walls,” he said. “I heard most of your phone call. I’ve got a gut feeling, Mercy. This could be the break we needed.”

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Landon Bell was right to be concerned about his sister. I found Geneva sitting on her porch swing, knees drawn up and staring at nothing when I walked up.

She was glassy-eyed when she turned to me. She glanced my way only briefly, then stared out at the street.

“I made a mistake,” she said. “I should have just changed my phone number. Ignored the messages. Pursuing hasn’t helped. It only made things worse. You just missed Mac Henderson. I suppose he thought he was giving me the white-glove treatment coming here himself. He’s essentially closing the case on what happened to my car and all the threats.”

“What do you mean?”

“No leads. And I know that look in his eyes. It’s the same as Detective Holland’s twelve years ago. He doesn’t believe me. Or worse, he thinks I’m making up stories.”

The Mac Henderson I knew wouldn’t have behaved the way she described. I feared Geneva was merely projecting based on her experiences with law enforcement. But the last thing I wanted to do was make her feel like I was gaslighting her, too.

“There’s been a development,” I said, deciding not to feed into her melancholy.

She looked at me, but her stony expression didn’t change. As briefly as I could, I explained what I’d learned from Professors Pollack and Derby.