Molly was slouched in the seat beside her, sunglasses on, hoodie pulled up.
“You still okay with this?”
“Yeah. If it helps other women, I’m down. Plus, a grand an hour is nothing to sniff at, right?”
“True.”
Eva slid an envelope across the console. “Here you go.”
Molly took the money and stuffed it in her backpack.
“Let’s go,” Eva opened the door. Molly took a few seconds longer, and Eva wondered again if she’d changed her mind, but when she looked over she saw the young woman was just fixing her lipstick.
The air was hot and sticky. They were far enough inland that no ocean breeze cut through the Florida humidity. Eva wore a black, maxi sundress and huge dark sunglasses. Molly wore a white strapless bodycon dress and wedge sandals with four-inch heels.
As they approached the front door, Eva saw a curtain in the front window fall back into place.
Before she could raise her hand to knock, the door swung inward.
A young man stood there. He had what looked like Bell’s Palsy. Eva recognized it because a villager in her home town in Sicily had it when Eva was a girl. It had made half of his face completely different than the other half. The affected half made his lip curl up in a sneer. His eye drooped, and the rest of his face looked as if he were cringing. It was pretty standard for Bell’s Palsy, but in this man’s case, he also had an eye patch on that eye.
The other side of his face was that of an average-looking young man. He stared at her with one large, brown eye fringed by dark lashes. He also was slightly stooped and lopsided, and Eva suspected one leg was shorter than the other.
“I’m Eva,” she said. His eyes widened. She’d told him her first name. Few people knew that. And right then, she realized she didn’t know his real name. She only knew him as the One-Eyed Jack. She could almost see the internal struggle, but then he said, “I’m Conrad.”
“This is Molly.”
“Hey,” Molly said.
“Come in,” Conrad said. “This is a little awkward.”
Molly scoffed. “You think?”
Eva shot her a look, but the young woman was smiling.
Conrad led them inside his house.
After reading forums populated by incels, Eva had been prepared to meet a young man she would despise on principle, but something about this guy broke her heart.
And he had turned away from the group and sought her help.
Besides, who was she to judge when she had so much blood on her hands. He hadn’t hurt anyone, right? And he was trying to help.
As for her own bloodstained past, she’d convinced herself that it was all justified, but that didn’t mean the rest of the world wouldn’t consider her a psychopath and monster if they knew the things she had done in her life. She was a cold-blooded killer. Full stop.
This young man had wallowed in his self-pity by talking bad about the women in the world, assuming none of them would give him the time of day. She doubted he’d joined in with the other incels who talked of rape and murder. Not from what she’d seen and what he’d said.
As if he could read her mind, a flush spread up the young man’s neck. He looked down at his feet as they filed into the front room of the house. “Maybe this a bad idea,” he said.
Molly touched his arm. He froze at the touch. “Hey, I think it’s pretty cool what you’re doing—that you’re trying to stop this guy and all that.”
He didn’t lift his head, continuing to stare at the worn carpet. But his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he nodded to acknowledge her words.
Eva took in the room. It was tidy with a massive big screen TV on a stand. The stand was filled with video game cartridges. Another small table was stacked high with books. She took in the titles at a glance. Nearly all were classics and included a volume of Shakespeare and a thick set of DaVinci’s notebooks. The kid was well-read.
A doorway led to a small hallway and galley kitchen. “I was just making some coffee. You want some?”
Eva was about to refuse until she saw the moka pot sitting on his stove.
“I’d love some,” she said. “Black.”
“I don’t want anything because I might puke, but I’ll help,” Molly said.
Conrad visibly flinched.
“I’m just so nervous right now. I’ve never done anything like this before,” Molly said.
Conrad exhaled loudly. “Full disclosure. I already did throw up this morning. Twice...”
Molly burst into laughter. “Oh, my God. What a pair we make.”
“As long as neither of you puke during the filming.” Eva said, smiling.
Conrad shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve never even tried to act before.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you what to do, okay?” Molly said.
“I mean, I don’t know…” he said. His face scrunched up. “I was thinking about it, and I just…I just think this is a bad idea.”
Eva stood back against the wall with her arms crossed. She realized she was holding her breath. This decision was up to them. What she thought didn’t matter right then. She would never encourage them to do something they didn’t want to. But refusing would mean ChadHater would become suspicious and cut Conrad out of his plans. He had to stay in the guy’s good graces, at least until they found out the target.
“I tried to get out of it,” Conrad said. “I told him I wasn’t sure.”
“What did he say?”
“He accused me of being a cop. He said if I didn’t send the proof by today, he would tell everyone on Incel Nation that I was a cop trying to stop him.”
Eva nodded.
“We’ll do it,” Molly said. She was walking around the room now, looking around. “We could do something like this,” she said. “You could set up a camera here on this table. Then it could film me walking in. I would say something like ‘Hey, thanks for calling. I was wondering where my wallet was.’ Or something like that. You could go to hand it to me and then offer me a drink. I’d drink it because I’m dumb, and there would be like a date rape drug inside. I’d feel instantly bad and sit on the couch. Then I’d pass out, you could lay me down and then pull up my dress and climb on top of me. And… “
“Oh my god,” he said. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”
“I know,” Molly said. “It sounds awful right. But listen, I was in an acting class once where we had to pretend to make love and trust me, no dude in there ever got a hard on. It was too awkward and not sexy or anything…”
“Um, I’m a virgin.”
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
“I’ve never even touched a woman’s breast.”
“Really?” Molly said. She seemed genuinely surprised.
“Yeah,” he said in a tone rich with sarcasm. “Have you seen my face.”
“Whatever, dude, it’s not that bad.”
“What?” His voice was angry.
“I mean, I’m not saying it’s not bad for you. I’m saying it’s not bad to look at. Good grief. If someone can’t see past that, fuck ‘em. They suck.” She shrugged.
Conrad stared at her, eyes wide, as if she were an alien who’d just dropped through the ceiling.
“Here’s the deal. You get a hard on, big whoop. It’s not like I haven’t had a guy grind on me before. Hell, when I was in eighth grade, that’s all me and my boyfriend did every Saturday night because I wanted to stay a V. So much for those plans.”
“A ‘V’?”
“You know, a virgin. What do you guys call yourselves again?”
“Incels. It stands for involuntary celibate.”
“Got it.”
“So, what do you say, Conrad. Should we at least try it?”
They both looked at Eva.
“It’s up to you,” she said. “I guess my question is whether you want me in the room or if it’s better if I’m not here.”
Conrad and Molly glanced at each other.
“I’ll
wait in the car,” Eva said and headed for the door.
“What about that coffee?” Conrad asked, obviously stalling.
“I’m good,” Eva said.
Molly was directing Conrad directions on where to set up his phone to film while Eva slipped out.
Ten minutes later, Molly stepped outside of the house. The door closed and then she knocked and Conrad opened it. Lights. Camera. Action.
Molly came back outside another six times over the next hour.
Finally, they both stepped out together.
They were talking and smiling.
Eva couldn’t help but smile watching them.
Then Conrad glanced her way. She got out of the vehicle and headed their way. They parted when she arrived.
“I can’t thank you enough for getting in touch with me,” Eva said. She realized she meant it with every fiber of her being. “I know it must not have been easy. Thank you.”
He didn’t blush or stammer, he just held her gaze and then slowly nodded.
“I’m sending him the video in a few minutes. We edited it together,” He looked at Molly, who nodded.
“I think it looks legit,” she added.
“Well, thanks to you,” Conrad said.
“Hey, I couldn’t have done it without you. You made something horrific easy.”
“That’s the oddest compliment I’ve ever received,” he said. “But you’re right. It is horrific. Everything about it. I just want you to know, that even if someone was holding a gun to my head, I would never do that to a woman. Not in real life.”
Molly was nodding as he spoke. “I know you wouldn’t.”
Eva held out her phone. “AirDrop it to me first.”
Conrad hesitated so Eva spoke up. “I told Molly that as soon as it served its purpose it would be destroyed. I promised her that.”
Conrad dipped his head and began to type.
Once the file appeared on her phone, Eva spent about ten minutes concentrating, looking down and nodding to herself. When she looked up, she smiled.
“I’m going to AirDrop it back to you. Use this new file called ‘Challenge Accepted.’ It’s encoded with programming that will make the video disappear after ten views.”
Conrad nodded.
Eva then handed him a card. It was black, embossed with the shape and details of a playing card—the queen of spades. “This is my private number. You can reach me directly through this at any time, night or day. I have your cell number.”
He looked surprised, but she didn’t explain. “Let me know about any movement on his part, his reaction to the video, everything he says. I’ll be close by. We’re running out of time.”
She turned to go and noticed Molly didn’t follow. Back in the car, she watched the two of them standing in front of the door. Molly took Conrad’s phone from him and punched in something before handing it back. He awkwardly stuck out his hand, and the two shook hands.
Then, as if she was embarrassed, Molly turned and fled toward the car.
Conrad was back inside before Molly reached the passenger door.
She snapped on her seatbelt and slouched in her seat.
Eva didn’t speak until they’d left the neighborhood.
“So, it went well.”
“Yeah.”
Eva didn’t press. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a teenage daughter, something she’d never know now. Pain knifed through her chest, and she gasped.
“You okay?” Molly said, pulling down her sunglasses to side-eye Eva.
“It’s fine.”
“Whatever,” Molly said, obviously not believing her.
The girl’s head was bent over her phone, and she swore softly.
When she looked up and saw Eva’s face, she explained. “It’s nothing. It’s just my friends want to check out early. We weren’t supposed to leave until tomorrow. But there’s some big party or something where there’s some Hollywood types, so they want to head back tonight.”
“The party might be fun,” Eva said.
“I doubt it. Bunch of guys with power who act like they are going to help us but really just want to get laid.”
Eva shook her head. “Don’t get me started on men like that.”
It wasn’t until Eva pulled in front of Molly’s hotel that Eva brought it up. “So? I saw you give him your number.”
“Yeah. We’re going to hang out after all this is over. We both like James Bond. So we’re going to catch that new one when it comes out next week. It’s cool.”
Eva smiled but didn’t say anything.
She waited until Molly was inside the hotel lobby before she pulled away.
Her next stop was a café or coffee shop. She needed an espresso or two. She planned to stay up late going over guests lists and floor plans for the three events that were potential targets.
During the drive, Jonathan texted her. He’d apparently found a website where mass shooters tended to post “manifestos” before they went on their shooting sprees. The whole idea was insane, but she was eager to scan it and see if their shooter was involved in some way. If ChadHater was active, she’d find him. Her hacker skills were rusty, but she was ready to start digging.
12
Sebastian/Username: ChadHater
He lay on his twin-sized bed and tried to tamp down his impatience by playing ManHunter. He was good. Damn good. He even had a YouTube channel with 20,000 subscribers who liked to watch him play live.
It was how he knew he’d do such a good job when it came time to wipe out all those Stacy’s. He was a natural for fuck’s sake.
He wanted all his YouTube subscribers to know that his talents weren’t just killing on a video screen. He was tempted to say, “And if you think this is skillful, watch me take out hundreds of real-life moving targets, bitches.”
For a second, he considered posting the manifesto on his YouTube channel as well. Right now, everyone there knew him as BigHunter. He immediately discarded the idea. He wanted to be able to continue his YouTube persona when he started a new life as a Chad after the shooting.
It would be Before Shooting and After Shooting. BS and AS. Two different worlds. Two different people. He’d keep his YouTube channel, as well, because it was monetized. He made about $2,000 a month from the ads on it. Enough for him to rent a room and live simply after the shooting while he figured out what to do with his new identity.
He could not wait.
13
After downing two espressos at the coffee shop, Eva headed back to her room and spent the afternoon hacking into the incels’ website. With Conrad’s help and password, she was able to access the private chat, but as Conrad had mentioned, ChadHater was very guarded in his plans.
She read his words over and over looking for a clue.
“The world will no longer speak about ER.: I will be a legend among incels everywhere. The one who made ER look like a Boy Scout.”
Other people had responded with encouragement. “We will say: ‘we knew you when.’”
“Damn right,” ChadHater had responded.
“We want to help.”
“Your funds have helped already.”
Funds? Holy shit. Eva kept reading.
“I have the tools now. I have the plan in place. Soon, my incel friends. Soon.”
“Will you post a manifesto here?”
“TBD.” To be determined. He was staying vague. His next post confirmed that.
“I’m not 100 percent sure I trust everybody here. Even those of us in this private chat.”
“That’s bullshit,” someone else wrote.
“We can take care of him.” It was written by DeputyLoveShy. It must be the guy who Conrad said was a Miami-Dade deputy sheriff. “We have resources.”
“Thank you, my friend,” ChadHater wrote back. “But that’s not necessary. Yet.”
That post was the day before. She copied all the messages and sent them to Jonathan with a note: “Maybe this will prod the police or FBI into ac
tion.”
He messaged back. “I’ll forward them, but you know they’re just going to add it to their list of reported suspicious activities without solid details.”
“It’s getting more solid by the minute, baby,” Eva texted back.
Next, she went to the Reddit forum where Conrad had first found ChadHater and then to the Dr. Frank fan page.
The posts by ChadHater that Conrad had said were there were gone.
A quick search online of news stories across the country showed several would-be mass shooters that had been stopped in the past year. Police had to take this threat just as seriously. But she wasn’t sure how much proof they needed before they would act.
Around four in the afternoon, she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She pulled the blackout curtains in the room, set an alarm on her phone, and crawled under the soft, plush covers of the bed.
She awoke a few hours later, ravenous. After a shower to wake her, she changed into another long, black maxi dress and headed back downstairs to the hotel restaurant and bar and asked for a table on the patio. The dining area looked full, but somehow the maître d managed to find a spot overlooking the ocean and a spectacular sunset painting the water in oranges and pinks.
Sitting under the party lights with the sun setting on the ocean before her, Eva sipped her sparkling water and nibbled on cucumber cups filled with smoked salmon while she waited for her entrée—Linguini Al Frutti di Mari—linguini with shrimp, mussels, and calamari.
The moment was bittersweet. It was poignant with all of her favorite pleasures in life—a stunning sunset, delicious food, soft music, the ocean breeze—and yet it made her heart ache with loneliness.
To share all this with someone…it was an impossible dream.
It seemed much too dangerous to allow herself to ever love like that again.
With that thought, the enormity of her loss returned with a vengeance. The constant inner ache turned into pain, and she missed her husband and children so badly she could barely breathe. She silently gasped for air as she stared out at the darkening sea, blinking back tears. But by the time the waiter returned with her entrée, it had passed. She’d stuffed it down deep inside so she could still function, and she smiled.
One-Eyed Jack Page 5
