“Let me ask you this. Do you know where they were trying to sell the tapes?”

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“Todd Wolff should be able to tell you that. That man is a braggart, always claiming to have an in with this major production house. He took possession of the tapes, sent them on to his boss. When one sold, I mean sold into the stores, he’d split the money with the actresses. It got to be much more than an accumulation of points for Tracy and Jere.”

“How many girls participate, Thalia?”

She’d rewrapped her hands in her lap, wasn’t meeting Taylor’s eyes anymore. “Upwards of ten, probably. I only know of two others who are at this level. It’s kind of like the Masons, you only get to know who is at the higher levels as you progress through them.”

“So you don’t know who the ringleaders are?”

“No. Tracy and Jere were my friends. So I thought. The other two girls were seniors this year. One was killed in a car accident right after graduation. Remember last year, when five girls were killed when they ran into a truck?”

Taylor nodded. It had been a horrific accident, on the news and in the minds of Nashville for weeks.

“The other, her name is Ginny Englewood, she graduated and went to school in Georgia somewhere.

‘Ginny Loves Wood,’ that was her star name. Classy, I know. She didn’t continue her career in film. And unfortunately, that’s all I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help. I should probably get back to work now.”

Thalia’s voice was cracking, bitter tears spilling from her eyes. Taylor knew it was time to stop. She had what she needed anyway.

They stood, and started back toward the door. “You were a huge help, Thalia. I appreciate your honesty. I know it wasn’t easy.”

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Thalia left the tears unchecked, shook Taylor’s hand with a firm grasp. “God gives us challenges, Lieutenant. It’s how we deal with them that matters.”

Seventeen, and already imbued with the wisdom of the world. Taylor felt strangely empty when she left the girl behind.

Thirty-Two

Taylor sat in the truck and wrote up the information Thalia had just given her. She needed to get the names of the additional girls to Fitz, let him and Marcus go to work on tracking them down. And Todd Wolff had new charges that needed to be filed against him, for child pornography. With any luck, they’d be able to parlay the charges into a confession, find out who he was selling the tapes to and shut down the operation. Fitz answered his phone on the first ring. She talked quickly. It only took a few minutes to relay the appropriate information, and he was off. They couldn’t run the risk of him getting caught up in the Oompa’s ire. He’d follow the tracks of her morning’s legwork, legitimizing the information Taylor had received so the case wouldn’t be compromised.

Something didn’t feel right about the secret society. The thought of a group of high school honeys trying to break into the porn industry and recruiting their friends seemed a bit much. Taylor suspected there was an outside force, someone professional who was ma-316

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nipulating the girls. Calling it a secret society, preying on the girls’ insecurities, their fears, their teenage ambitions to be special, famous. Making them think they wanted this life, making it glamorous, fun, a game. Todd Wolff certainly fit the bill.

Taylor hadn’t seen any incidence of other men on the tapes, but if Corinne had been having sex with some unseen participants, maybe that could explain the pregnancy jitters. Her mother suspected an affair, Dr. Ricard had said Corinne was being manipulated by everyone and had used the word lover in the list. Sam needed to test the fetus for paternity. She made a note and went back to her thoughts.

Thalia had mentioned Todd Wolff had a boss. She wouldn’t be surprised if money had changed hands that had nothing to do with the profits of a sale. Wolff was a pimp, plain and simple. Now they needed to focus on finding who he worked for.

Oh, she should have asked Thalia about drugs. She flipped open the phone and called the girl. The voice mail came on and Taylor left her a message. She felt good. She could tell things were about to break. That’s the way it was with these cases, either they latched on to a thread that quickly unraveled, or they were stymied for months. Though it sure as hell would be nice if she had a fucking badge so she could do her job.

Her anger spilled over and she slammed her fists into the steering wheel, imagined Delores’s pug face. There, that was better. She calmed herself, breathing deeply and letting her shoulders relax. Nothing could be done now. She just needed to persevere, know that the truth would come out soon.

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Feeling like her morning was well spent, she lingered in the car, trying to decide what to do next. Damn, this sucked. Couldn’t go to work, couldn’t go home and sit. Maybe she’d take a ride out and see Sam. Always a safe antidote to whatever ailed her. Long before she had Baldwin, Sam was her first sounding board.

Just to be safe, she called Baldwin and told him where she was headed. He told her he was just down the street from Sam’s office at the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation offices, and would meet her up at Forensic Medical in an hour. He reminded her to watch her back.

She started the truck and waited a moment, giving the followers time to get into place. Turning left on to Charlotte, she took a quick right on 46th and got on the highway. Within fifteen minutes she was at the ME’s office. She didn’t see anyone following her, figured they were playing possum out on Gass Street. If Aiden were anywhere around, she couldn’t see him either. She wondered briefly how they were going to find a killer who managed to drift unseen through countries and jurisdictions, then pushed the worry from her mind. She left the truck, locked it with a double beep and walked to the front doors. She slid her pass card through the monitor and was let into the building. The front desk was manned by Kris, smiling a genuine welcome as usual. She waved at Taylor. “Hey, LT. How’s it going?”

Was it possible that Kris hadn’t heard the news?

Taylor walked over to the desk, fiddled with a pen laid out on the counter.

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you don’t let anyone you don’t know into the building while I’m here, okay? I’ve got a creep following me and I’d rather not run into him.”

“Your boyfriend already warned me. He called a few minutes ago. I’m telling you, Taylor, I don’t know why you don’t marry that boy. He is one fine piece of man, if you know what I mean.” Kris leered. Taylor blushed and rolled her eyes. She didn’t bother answering, just waved and scooted through the second security door that led to Sam’s office.

Good grief. Kris’s taste in men ran toward the bad boys. Taylor had bumped into her at a local watering hole once. Kris was half in the bag, playing pool and drinking whisky with two guys who looked like Hells Angels. She’d introduced one of the bearded men as her current fling. It made her wonder if Baldwin put off that vibe and she just didn’t see it because she knew him so well. She took a seat in Sam’s office, propped her boots on the corner of the desk, and waited.

She was deep into a daydream about what Baldwin would look like on a motorcycle when Sam appeared five minutes later, wiping her hands on a paper towel. She took one look at Taylor and her face changed from sunny to stormy.

“You okay?” she asked without preamble.

“Not really, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

Sam gave her a swift, strong hug, then settled into her chair.

“Do they have any idea what’s going on?”