“Right,” I say. “That’s really helpful. But we’re actually here to see Cade.” I feel Teddy shift beside me, but he stays quiet. “Everyone’s in here, right?”

I push the door open without waiting for his answer.

Instantly, the voices inside dissolve into silence. And across the rows of plastic gray chairs, over two dozen arched eyebrows turn simultaneously to me.

For a moment, I feel as if I’ve stepped into a nightmare. I suck in my breath and stare into a sea of identical faces. Dark curling mustaches, pale faces, and bloodred lips.

“What the fuck?” I say before I can catch myself.

Every single brother is wearing a black cape and Guy Fawkes smile.

The cloaked figure at the table in front lifts up his mask. “Detective White—and Kaplan.”

It’s Tripp. Of course.

“What’s going on here?”

“We’re conducting fraternity business.”

“Wearing masks? What kind of sick—”

Michael steps behind me. “It’s for anonymity.” He spreads his arms wide. “This allows us to vote in real time without identifying ourselves.”

Tripp’s already skipped over to us, throwing confused looks at Michael in the doorway.

“Fine.” I wave my hand. “We need to speak to”—I think of the guy telling the brothers what he’d do to the drunk girl but decide to leave it for now—“Cade Abernathy.”

Michael’s mouth twists unpleasantly, and there’s a movement from the back row as Cade stands to remove his mask and cape. The two get tangled, and he elbows another Guy Fawkes in the head when he rips both off.

It would be comical if it wasn’t so fucking creepy.

Back at the station, the light is completely gone from the windows, leaving only the blue-tinged fluorescent bulbs, which highlight the sad-looking bags under our eyes. I can’t remember the last real meal I had. Fatigue is imminent, but my energy’s sky-high.

Cade gets the same interview room as Tripp, and we leave Michael in our water-stained room so he can wait like he deserves for his lawyer.

“Thanks again for coming in,” Teddy says to Cade.

He switches on the voice recorder. “Detectives White and Kaplan interviewing Cade Abernathy.”

Cade’s on the edge of his seat, not nervous, but in a hurry, I think, to get this over and done with.

Now that he’s removed the cape, I see he’s dressed quite nicely underneath—gray slacks and a gingham blue button-down. He’s fidgeting and glancing at his watch every few seconds, and I wonder if we’re keeping him from a date with Samantha.

“Your dad’s an attorney, right?” I say.

He doesn’t seem surprised we know this, and simply nods.