Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [140]
There was even a charge of rape in Rolfe’s file, though that case had been dismissed. Somehow, though, Lynch had gotten his hands on a picture of the victim, a girl of thirteen who had changed her mind about who had attacked her on that dark playground. DNA evidence had somehow been compromised. The case never got before a judge.
“A real charmer,” Trent said, his coffee long forgotten, his eyes dark with a quiet rage.
“And supposedly, from his test scores, brilliant.”
“Who cares? He could be as smart as Einstein, but he’s still a sociopath.”
“Right.” Jules, too, was stone-cold sober. “You see this red tape on the inside of the file?” Carefully, so as not to have the charred pages crumble, she spread open the information on Missy Albright and Roberto Ortega. “These have the same strip of tape and similar observations. There might be other files as well, but these are the only ones whose covers weren’t burned, the information the most complete.”
As Trent compared the files, the corners of his mouth twisting downward, Jules added, “These two, Missy and Roberto, are like Eric and some of the others. They, too, have a long history of violence, and because of it, I think, they got special attention from the reverend, lots of notes in Lynch’s handwriting. He was fascinated by them.” She pushed some of the pages toward Trent, then indicated the detailed, handwritten notes in each of the files. “The common theme is that these kids are smart, but very, very disturbed. At a deep, core level. They’ve got uncontrollable rage, just beneath the surface. They’re cruel without any morsel of empathy.”
Jules met Trent’s dark gaze. “They’re sociopaths, a danger to society. To themselves.” She lifted her fingers one by one as she listed several symptoms of a sociopath. “They’re charming, even glib; they show no remorse; they think the world revolves around them; they lack empathy; they live on the edge; and they don’t give a damn about others.” Letting out a deep breath, she added, “They can’t be redeemed, but that’s not what Lynch is about. I’m just not sure if he’s brought them here for the money, or if there’s some other motive. Maybe he thinks he can harness their evil somehow? I don’t know.”
“Jesus,” Trent whispered. “Most of them are as smart as whips, off the charts. That’s how they ended up here in the first place.”
“But they’re not all cruel. That’s why the weaker ones become victims.” She felt sick inside, horrified at her discovery, but she was certain she was right.
“Nona Vickers and Drew Prescott? What about them?” he asked, absently scratching at his jaw. “You think there’s a group of kids that Lynch culled out because they’re sociopaths, and somehow Drew and Nona got caught in the cross fire? Or became targets?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her darkest fears congealing. “But I think that it’s worse than that. I think that this group of sociopaths, put together, with so many of them having such a broad history of violence, they could very well be identified as homicidal.”
“You think they would kill willingly?”
“Some of them even eagerly.” She had to get up, walk from one end of the room to the other to release some of the tension deep inside.
“Lynch knowingly brought a group of them together. Psychopaths.”
Just the sound of the word, spoken aloud, seemed to echo through the room. Suddenly cold again, she walked to the fire and warmed the back of her legs, all the while trying to make sense of what she’d discovered. “What if no one else had identified them? What if Lynch was the only