The two things Mollenkamp was able to confirm were Ray D’s identity and the fact that there was also a female ghoul present at the scene, presumably Mary Sudbury. Now that he was being honest, it was obvious that the ghouls had shaken him deeply.

“The sick thing is, we needed them there,” he said, licking lips gone dry. “To take away the . . . horror. I couldn’t have gone through with it otherwise.”

“Poor baby,” I said without sympathy. “Your precious horror was just a fucking appetizer. It’s her suffering that’s keeping them fed.”

Mollenkamp looked away.

The chief scratched one ear, tugged on a thick lobe. “So you told your fraternity brothers you had a fine old time becoming Masters of the Universe, and they decided to follow in your footsteps?”

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. “Only a few, only the ones who claimed they had access to that kind of money. But when Thad called the number, it was out of service.” He was silent a moment. “He accused me of bullshitting him, of making the whole thing up. I should have let him think it.”

“But you didn’t,” I said.

“No.” Mollenkamp opened his eyes. “I told him to go down to that fucking ghoul bar and ask for Ray D himself.”

“Did he?” the chief prompted him.

“Yeah.” He licked his lips again. “Him and Mike. That bartender, the guy with the spider tattoo, he told them to shut the fuck up, that that wasn’t how it worked. That he’d give them Ray D’s number, his new number, for the cash. I didn’t think. . . . I don’t know.” His voice cracked a little. “Is that what got him in trouble? Is that why they killed him? For asking about that ghoul?”

“Is that what you think happened?” Chief Bryant asked. “You think they killed him on purpose? That it wasn’t an accident?”

“I don’t know!” Matthew Mollenkamp took a deep, shaking breath. “I don’t; I really don’t. I swear to God, I don’t know anything about what happened that night. For Christ’s sake, I thought Thad drowned in the river! I thought maybe . . . I thought maybe it was an accident that happened afterward, or maybe . . . maybe he just couldn’t live with it.”

“So Thad and Mike paid the bartender for the new number?” I asked him. “And they set up a meeting with Ray D?”

“Yeah.” He turned his gaze back to me, eyes dull. “They did. Three grand apiece for the two of them and Kyle. It took them a couple of weeks to work up the nerve to make the call.”

“Bet you gave them a hard time about that,” I murmured.

Matt didn’t answer.

I was pretty sure it was true. And I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be easy to live with, either.

It damn well shouldn’t be.

Chapter Thirty-two

Thirty-two