“It could be faked,” she whispered.

“Part of the setup. In the interesting-but-true department, the first time you mentioned the tape, I thought immediately of David Price. It sounded like something he would do.”

“Oh my God!” Jillian covered her mouth with her hand. “Poor Eddie Como. Oh that poor man…”

“I don't understand,” Tom Pesaturo spoke up. “You're saying this was all done by some other guy?”

“It's the theory of the day.”

“Well, who the hell is he?”

“If we knew that, Mr. Pesaturo, we wouldn't be here right now.”

“But David Price is helping this guy?”

“It would appear that way.”

“Why?”

“To get out of prison, Mr. Pesaturo. To return to the real world where he can rape and murder small children. Why do you think?”

“No!” Laurie's voice shot up. Her face was wild. “You can't let him. You can't let him out.”

Griffin just shrugged. “He says it's the only way. We have a sexual-sadist predator running around who for all intents and purposes is Eddie Como. We don't have prints, we don't have DNA, we don't even have a description. And according to David Price, the real College Hill Rapist will kill another girl by tonight unless we let David have a three-hour hardship leave to visit your granddaughter.”

Griffin turned abruptly on Tom. “For God's sake, Mr. Pesaturo, why didn't you and Vinnie kill the little prick when you had the chance? He impregnated your thirteen-year-old daughter. That wasn't enough for you?”

“We didn't know.” Tom was positively moaning. “And Meg was so confused, believing that she really loved him, I worried about what it would do to her if he suddenly disappeared. Then after his arrest… when we all learned what he was really like… Meg locked herself in her room and cried until she was sick. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, had horrible nightmares. We just wanted to get her through. So we vowed never to mention his name again. We would pretend it had never happened. David was going away after all. The papers said he'd never get out, never see the light of day…”

“We started lying,” Laurie murmured. “And in our lie, there was no David Price. There was just Molly, our new daughter. Everything was so nice that way. So much easier to believe.”

“Well, welcome back to the real world, Mrs. Pesaturo. Where there is a monster named David Price. And he probably is working hand in hand with a serial rapist. Why do you think Meg was the College Hill Rapist's first victim?”

Tom moaned again. “David wanted revenge. After what he did to Meg, he wanted revenge…”

“Yeah, Mr. Pesaturo. And knowing Price, he's just getting started.”

Chapter 33

SERGEANT GRIFFIN AND DETECTIVE FITZ WENT UPSTAIRS to look through Meg's room for any hint of where she might have gone, while Tom and Laurie remained sitting in the family room, their bodies drained, their faces shell-shocked.

“It's going to be all right,” Jillian said firmly. “The police are starting to make genuine progress now. It's going to be all right.”

“Meg,” Laurie whispered.

“We'll find her. She probably just ran out to do some errands, maybe grab some lunch.” But that didn't sound like Meg, and Jillian knew it. Conscientious Meg always told her parents where she was going. Cautious Meg never spent much time out alone.

“He can't see Molly,” Tom muttered. “Can't. Just… can't.”

“It's going to be all right,” Jillian repeated. “Everything will work out fine.” She turned to her mother. “Mom, maybe you can show Tom some more pictures from your singing days. I need to go upstairs and talk to Sergeant Griffin.”

Her mother tapped her left finger somberly, a soldier accepting her mission. The look on her face made Jillian's heart tighten in her chest. She gave Libby's hand a quick, reassuring squeeze. Funny how in the last twenty-four hours, Jillian felt that she had finally taken the first step forward with her life. Funny how in the last twenty-four hours, it would appear that Griffin had taken at least three steps back.

There was an air about him now. A crackle of barely concealed anger. If he stood in front of a punching bag, she thought, he would easily tear it to shreds. And then he would stomp on the torn, tortured bits while the tendons corded in his neck and the menace in him grew and grew and grew.

He'd said he'd tried to kill David Price the day of his arrest. Two fellow detectives had gotten in Griffin's way. Seeing his fury now, she wondered how they could've been so brave. And she wondered what those two men had looked like five minutes after the encounter.

She squared her shoulders and headed up the stairs.

She heard Detective Fitz's voice first. He was down the hall, apparently asking Toppi some questions in Molly's room. Jillian bypassed that door and headed to Meg's bedroom, where she found Griffin standing in front of Meg's small, white-painted desk. His powerful shoulders filled the window, blocking the light.

In spite of herself, Jillian couldn't take another step forward. She remained in the doorway, where she cleared her throat.

He turned slowly, Meg's calendar held between his hands. “This is an official police investigation, ma'am. Get out of the room.”

“I'm not in the room.”

“Jillian,” he growled.

“Griffin,” she replied, and now she did step forward. She came right up to him, where she could see that his hands were shaking, his blue eyes had turned jet black and his jaw was set so tight, he had to be grinding his teeth.

“They were just trying to protect their family,” she told him quietly. “Laurie and Tom, they never meant anyone any harm.”

“Tell that to the ten other families. The mothers and fathers who had to file through the morgue, looking at videotape because the real remains of their children were too gruesome for even seasoned professionals to see. Tell that to the detectives who went through peer counseling just to get those images out of their head.”

“They didn't know, Griffin. Nobody knew. Isn't that why you're so angry? Because their mistake reminds you of your own, and that just pisses you off all over again.”

He literally snarled. She had never seen a human being do that before. He snarled at her, raw and savage, and in the depths of his rage, she also saw his pain. It gave her the courage to raise her hand and place it gently on his chest.

“It's different this time. It's going to be okay.”

“How do you know? You've never met Price. You don't know just how much he enjoys a good game. And that's all this is to him: a game. Another way to pass the time until he gets his ass out of jail. Which I think he's going to do shortly after six this evening if I don't magically figure everything out.”

Jillian didn't say anything.

“What do you know, anyway?” His tone picked up in hostility. “You and your little Survivors Club. What a joke that name turned out to be. It's the Liars Club, that's what it is. Each one of you hoarding your precious little secrets, and in the meantime real people are out there dying. Real people are getting hurt because you women won't tell the police everything.”

She still didn't speak.

“What do you even know about Meg, anyway?” he went on relentlessly. “According to her own parents she once considered herself in love with a man who's a convicted serial killer. How do you know she isn't still in love? Ever think of that? Her rape was the least traumatic. Hardly a bruise on her. You always considered her lucky, but maybe she was simply in cahoots with Price all along. Her rape was staged, her amnesia is staged. She's part of Price's game, too, and right now, she's off doing things to help good old lover boy.”

“No.”

“No? You're sure? Absolutely, positively sure?”