“They are pathological liars. They can tell the most outlandish stories without blinking an eye. And the other salient characteristic of sociopaths is a weak conscience. They feel very little guilt or shame or remorse. Psychopaths, on the other hand, have no conscience. Can you imagine what that’s like? To feel no remorse whatsoever for your terrible actions?”
“…”
“On top of that, sociopaths have a very low tolerance for frustration or for discharge of aggression.”
“Meaning…?”
“It takes very little for them to become violent.”
“I see.”
“And they’re fearless. When a normal person is put in a situation where they anticipate a painful stimulus, such as an electric shock, their sweat glands will increase in activity. But in psychopathic subjects, no skin conductance responses were emitted. They don’t feel fear the way we do.”
“Right.”
“So if you put it together, Detective, you’ve got an individual who feels no empathy, no remorse, no fear, and is prone to violence. It’s not surprising so many serial killers are diagnosed as psychopaths.”
“So are you saying Liam Cass is a psychopath?”
“It’s hard to say. He was only nine years old the last time I saw him, and most of these personality disorders technically can’t be diagnosed until eighteen. But…”
“Yes…?”
“He was definitely a sociopath, but my gut feeling was that he was also a psychopath. Even at such a young age, he was an amazing liar and manipulator. But at the same time, when I first met him, my instinct was to like him. It took several sessions before I could see through him. And I am a professional.”
“So he’s a serial killer?”
“Be careful making that jump. Nearly all serial killers are likely psychopaths, but not all psychopaths become killers.”
“But you believe Liam is capable of murder?”
“Well, psychopaths are capable of murder. So if Liam is a psychopath, then yes, he is capable of murder.”
“How long did you work with Liam?”
“Two years.”
“That doesn’t seem very long, everything considered.”
“Liam didn’t want to be helped. He had no interest in changing for the better. When I tried to talk with him he simply lied to me about what he was feeling. If there’s one thing my sessions with him did was to make him realize what he should and shouldn’t say out loud. And the truth is…”
“Yes?”
“I was scared of him.”
“Scared?”
“Detective, I used to keep a photo on my desk of my daughter, who was about Liam’s age. During one session, he kept staring at the photo and smiling in this very disturbing way. Then he started asking questions about her.”
“What sort of questions?”
“Innocent questions. Like what foods did she like and what were her hobbies. It wasn’t anything terrible, but the way he asked was very upsetting to me. And I think he meant for me to feel uncomfortable. I put the photo away after that.”
“Did he cause her any harm?”
“No. But soon after that, I told Mrs. Cass that I didn’t think I was helping her son, and we terminated our sessions. I didn’t want to work with him anymore.”
“Because you were scared.”
“Yes.”
“Of a nine-year-old boy.”
“If you knew what was going on inside that kid’s head, you would be scared too.”
Chapter 30
Erika
Right after Jason and I finish loading the dishwasher, an alarm goes off on my iPhone. I pull it out of my pocket and look at the alert:
PTA meeting at 7:30. Traffic is light. You should arrive in ten minutes.
Damn. That stupid PTA meeting is tonight. And I told Jessica I would go because I’m the one in charge of movie night, the most important event of the year.
“What’s wrong?” Jason asks me.
“I was supposed to go to this PTA meeting tonight.”
“The PTA?” He frowns. “Is this really a good time to get more involved in the PTA?”
“Jason…”
“Can’t you skip it? Didn’t you say you hate those things?”
“Yes, I did say that. And I do. But Jessica is counting on me to do movie night. And I feel like… maybe I shouldn’t be antagonizing anyone now…”
Jason gives me a look. “You really think you need to worry about what Jessica Martinson thinks of you?”
No. I shouldn’t. But I still do. I’ve always longed for that woman’s approval. “I won’t stay for long. Okay?”
He shrugs. “Whatever you want, Erika. I’m going to go look up lawyers for Liam while you’re organizing movie night or whatever it is you feel is more important than our son…”
He’s right. I shouldn’t be organizing movie nights right now. If I’m in a position where I’m looking up attorneys for my sixteen-year-old son, my life is too complicated to be doing movie night. Maybe I’ll talk to Jessica when I get there. I’ll explain to her that I can’t do movie night and I’m sorry.
But then again, I don’t want her to think I’m backing out because Liam is guilty of something.
I drive over to the school, and sure enough, traffic is light and it takes only ten minutes. I see the cars of all the other moms parked outside the school. Jessica’s minivan is right by the entrance in the primo parking spot that she always seems to nab.
PTA meetings are held in the library on the second floor. I charge up the stairs, glancing down at my watch to find that I am now five minutes late somehow. Stupid iPhone didn’t alert me soon enough. Oh well. I’ll slip in the back and it won’t be a big deal. Jessica usually spends the first twenty minutes going over minutes from last meeting anyway. These things are torture.
The door to the library creaks loudly when I push it open. I’m clearly the only latecomer, and everyone is already gathered around the conference table set up in the center of the room. Jessica is standing at the front, wearing a blue and white dress that looks fantastic on her. She always looks fantastic. Under any circumstance, I might feel a twinge of jealousy, but that’s the last thing I’m feeling right now.
I remember the first time I saw Jessica Martinson, back when the boys were in first grade. We had just moved to the town and were starting over after that awful incident in kindergarten. Jason thought I was being silly when I said we should move, but too many people knew what had happened. I could feel them whispering about me when I went to the supermarket. We had become pariahs there and needed a fresh start.
I showed up at a quarter to three that day to pick Liam up from first grade. Jessica was waiting as well and looked hopelessly glamorous, even in her T-shirt and yoga pants. She was surrounded by a group of women who were hanging on her every word. She loves being the center of attention—that hasn’t changed. I watched them laughing at a joke Jessica had made, but I was too intimidated to try to approach them. I was never one of the popular kids back when I was in school, and I didn’t expect that would change in adulthood.
It wasn’t until Tyler and Liam came out of the school together that Jessica took a sudden interest in me. She walked over to me purposefully, a charming smile on her red lips. She was looking at me, but her eyes were on my son. “You must be Liam’s mother. I’m Jessica—Tyler’s mom.”
“Erika,” I said.
“Tyler talks about Liam nonstop,” Jessica said, as if she was impressed.
“That’s wonderful,” I said, although in the back of my mind I was thinking that I hoped Liam didn’t end up duct-taping him in a closet.
“Seems like the boys have gotten to be good friends.” She looked down at Liam, who was standing patiently beside me with his SpongeBob SquarePants backpack on his shoulders while the other boys were running around like crazy. “Hi there, Liam. I’m Tyler’s mother.”
Liam held out his right hand, which Jessica accepted. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he
recited.
Jessica laughed, utterly charmed by my son. “What fantastic manners. You trained him well, Erika!”
Amazingly, I hadn’t trained him at all. Liam learned all on his own what to say to adults to make them love him.
After that day, Jessica was my best friend. Liam and Tyler had play dates once or twice a week, and we learned to count on each other if we had an emergency where we needed someone to pick up one of our sons from school. It wasn’t until the end of grade school when that abruptly changed. The boys barely spoke to each other anymore. Jessica and I were still friendly, but no longer friends. I never quite understood why.
And I have a feeling things are just going to get worse.
I try to slip into the library quietly, but as the door swings shut behind me, Jessica abruptly stops speaking. Everyone in the room turns to look at me.
“Oh, um, hi,” I stammer.
“Erika!” she exclaims in a flat voice. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yes, I… I’m sorry I’m late…”
Jessica’s ice blue eyes remain on my face. “No worries…”
I slip around a few of the other mothers (and one lone dad) to get to the only empty seat. Everyone in the room is staring at me. I thought nobody would be aware of Liam’s connection to Olivia, but it’s painfully obvious that’s not the case. Everybody knows. Maybe they don’t know the police were at our house tonight. Maybe they don’t know Liam was at Olivia’s house at two in the morning. But they know something.
Jessica clears her throat. “All right. Let’s go back to reviewing the minutes.”
I’ve always found PTA meetings to be a form of torture. Even though I love my kids, I just can’t bear going through the planning of events for them for the entire year. I’m fine with planning one event, like movie night, although I’d rather just be a minion handing out movie tickets or pizza on the night in question. But Jessica and I go way back. If she needs my help, I have no choice but to offer it.
“We still need more volunteers for the book fair,” Regina Knowles complains. “Nobody wants to do cleanup. And that’s when we need the most help.”
Yes, the eternal problem. Everybody wants to help out at the events, but nobody wants to be on the cleanup crew.
“I’m sure we can find somebody to help with cleanup,” Jessica says. Her eyes scan the room, as several women try to look in other directions. “Rachel? Maria? Will you help out?”
Rachel Richter and Maria Sheldon look absolutely unenthused at the idea of cleaning up after the book fair. I’ve done it before, and it’s an exhausting job to pack up all those books. We all know it. But Jessica stares them down, and they both nod an affirmative.
“Wonderful.” Jessica claps her hands together. “Now that we have book fair settled, let’s talk about movie night.” Finally. She looks over at Alicia Levine. “Alicia, I want to thank you so much for stepping up as chair of movie night.”
What?
“Happy to help, Jess,” Alicia says.
Is she joking with me? What’s going on here?
I clear my throat and say as delicately as possible, “I’m sorry, Jessica, but didn’t you ask me if I could be in charge of movie night?”
Jessica tucks an errant strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Yes, but I know how busy you are, Erika. And Alicia was so nice to step up. So… I’m letting you off the hook.”
The room has gone silent again as everyone stares at me and Jessica. What she said was a bald-faced lie. She asked me to be in charge of movie night. And she changed her mind about it when she found out about Olivia.
She could have at least given me the courtesy of telling me in advance, so I didn’t waste my time driving out here when my son needs me at home.
And now the silence is broken by the sound of people whispering. I don’t know what the hell they’re saying, but I can only imagine. I want to yell at them that if they’ve got something to say about my kid, they can say it to my face. But I don’t actually want that. I just want to go home.
I rise unsteadily to my feet. “I think maybe I’ll just take off then.”
“Feel free,” Jessica says. “I do appreciate you offering to pitch in though, Erika. Honestly.”
There have been times during my friendship with Jessica that I have wanted to slap her, but never so much as at this moment. But I’m capable of controlling my impulses. So I grab my purse and run out of the room before these women can see me cry.
Chapter 31
Police transcript of interview with Madison Hartman:
“How long have you been friends with Olivia Mercer?”
“Practically my whole life. We became friends the first day of kindergarten. We were wearing the same dress and we bonded over it.”
“So you’re very close with her?”
“Uh, yeah! We’re best friends.”
“Did Olivia ever give you any indication she might run away?”
“No. Never. Olivia would never run away. She wouldn’t do that to her parents.”
“Did she do drugs or alcohol?”
“Are you kidding me? Olivia was a good girl. One time, me and Aidan—that’s my boyfriend—offered her a drink of some beer Aidan swiped from his dad’s stash, and she wouldn’t touch it.”
“If she were planning to run away, would she tell anyone about it?”
“Yes! She would tell me… But she didn’t run away. I’m telling you. There’s no way… It was Liam. That bastard, Liam Cass.”
“You think Liam is the one responsible for her disappearance?”
“I don’t think he is. I know he is.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Um, because Liam is a crazy person?”
“Why do you think he’s crazy?”
“Okay, well, I wasn’t totally sure before. I mean, there were rumors about him. Like, I went to a different middle school than he did, but people sometimes talked about that English teacher and what they thought he did to him. Some kids believe he did it, although I honestly didn’t believe it until now. Do you guys know about that?”
“Yes. We know.”
“I mean, mostly it was just a vibe I got from him. Obviously, he’s pretty cute, but he just seemed so phony. Like, a lot of girls thought he was really charming, but I just thought he was a fake.”
“How so?”
“So here’s an example. One day, I saw him messing around with some of his friends before first period, and then he was late for class. I had first period with him, and the teacher asked him why he was late. He told her his mom was driving him and she had a flat tire and that’s why he was late.”
“A lot of kids tell lies.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean, I lie to teachers or my parents all the time. But they always seem like they sort of know that I’m lying. It’s hard to tell a really good lie to an adult in a believable way. But Liam was so good at it. He looked right into the teacher’s eyes and said it with a straight face, and the teacher didn’t even suspect for a second. I would have believed it too if I didn’t see him outside messing around. You know? And there was other stuff too.”
“Like what?”
“Like I was at the athletic field after school because I was waiting for Aidan to finish football practice, and the track team guys had a meet. Liam was racing and he lost, and I could tell he was really pissed off about losing. He walked right up to this fence and kicked it so hard, it broke. I was kind of shocked at how angry he seemed.”
“Did you tell that to Olivia?”
“No…”
“Why not?”
“Well, because last year Aidan punched a wall and broke his hand, so I thought if I told her that story, she’d bring up the story about Aidan and act like it was no big deal. Or tell me I should break up with Aidan.”
“Olivia told you to break up with Aidan?”
“Yes… I mean, not in a serious way. But she didn’t like him.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t
know. She thought he was a football player thug, but… what does this have to do with Liam?”
“Has Aidan ever been violent towards you?”
“No! Never! Aidan isn’t perfect, but he’s a good guy. Not like Liam.”
“Was Liam ever violent toward Olivia?”
“No. He could be really nice when he wanted to be. That’s what I’m saying—he was such a fake. And she was totally taken in by it. She was so into him… and she’s not even like that. She doesn’t get that into boys. He totally did a number on her.”
“Do you think he had any reason to hurt her?”
“No. I mean, she already wanted to go out with him, and I bet she would’ve done just about anything for him.”
“So why are you so certain Liam is responsible for her disappearance?”
“Because he’s crazy! Crazy people don’t need a reason to do something crazy, right?”
Chapter 32
Erika
When I get back home, Jason says Liam hasn’t come out of his room since the cops left, so I decide I should go check on him. It’s a relief when I knock on the door and he tells me to come in.
Strangely enough, I find him at his desk, hunched over one of his textbooks. He’s reading and outlining the book, as if this was any other day. As if the police hadn’t been here, only hours earlier, essentially accusing him of murder.
“Liam?”
He doesn’t look up from his textbook. “Yes?”
“What are you doing?”
“Studying. I have a history test tomorrow.”
“Could you stop for a few minutes? I’d like to speak with you.”
If it were Hannah, she would have moaned about how I shouldn’t interrupt her when she’s trying to study, even though she gets distracted every five minutes by her phone when she’s studying anyway. But Liam obediently turns away from his history book and looks up at me, blinking his brown eyes innocently.
“What is it, Mom?”
I take a deep breath. My hands are shaking, and I feel like I’m about to burst into tears. I remember back when Liam was younger and he used to see that psychotherapist. She used a term that I had contemplated but was afraid to ever say out loud:
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