FOLLOW THE LEADER - Chapter 67

 Chapter 67

Inside a secure room in the basement of F.B.I  headquarters Maggie Thornhill sat across from Rhonda Stone, who had been insisting that she wanted to be known as “Country.” Not just now, but for the rest of her life. 

Agent John Driscoll sat off to the side, watching and waiting for his turn.

Thornhill shot a searing look at Rhonda and said, “Why are you protecting a known killer? A serial abuser of women.”

“He never laid a hand on me.”

“That’s right. You got away.”

She shrugged.

“He liked me just fine before…” 

“Before what?”

Rhonda hesitated.

“I let him down,” she said forlornly. “It was supposed to be my initiation.”

“He wanted you to kill someone.”

“How did you know?”

“We have our ways.”

Rhonda sighed.

“I messed up.”

“How?”

She began to cry. “I just couldn’t do it.”

“Let’s say you did do it. You shot and killed the farm boy.” 

“But I wouldn’t,” she sobbed.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told us. I want you to quit bawling for a minute and use your brain. Your imagination. Just for a minute. Can you do that?”

A shrug.

“I guess.”

“Let’s say you did shoot and kill the boy.”

 “All right,” she whimpered.

“So the kid is dead. They give you fist bumps and Jasom drives away in their gray Rover. It was gray, right?”

Rhonda nodded.

“They get back to camp and Jason tells the other girls to come into the cabin. One of them picks up a small chair and places it in the exact center of the room. You sit down, all excited. Maybe you’re giggling.  Maybe Jason says an Indian prayer. Maybe not. One of the girls steps up with clippers and cuts your hair off, hunk by hunk. As close as she can.  She uses an electric razor to cut off the rest.  Then she sponges your scalp. After that she shakes up a can of aerosol foam and squirts it onto your scalp, rubs it around. She strops a straight razor. Very carefully she shaves the little tufts of hair so that even those are gone. Can you guess what happens next?”

Rhonda hesitates.

“No.”

“This is where you have to imagine something.”

“Okay.”

Thornhill leaned in close, lifting Rhonda’s chin. 

 “Now that you’re one of them, you have to give Jason a blow job, right in front of the others. When you finish that you have to do the girls. Do whatever they ask you to do.”

Thornhill was making it up, but she could see the revulsion on Rhonda Stone’s face. She let go of her chin. 

“From then on you are Jason’s virtual slave. There will be others that he wants you to kill.”

Rhonda made a tiny sound of protest.

Thornhill moved behind Rhonda, who squirmed in her chair.

“You have to do it. Otherwise…”

She yanked Rhonda’s hair down, baring her neck.

…This!

Swiped her fingers across the back of Rhonda’s neck.

Rhonda screamed. 

“Stop! Please stop! I’ll talk.”

 “You’re being too hard on the kid,” said Driscoll, playing the good cop. He moved closer.

“My colleague’s been a little mean,” he said. “But it’s for your own good. She’s telling you the truth.”

By then Thornhill knew her men had located Francis Kelly’s Honda. She also knew that the prospect of facing Jason Powers again terrified Rhonda Stone. The interview is going well, she thought.

Ever the gentleman, Driscoll offered tissue to Rhonda.

“Thank you.”

Thornhill backed away, letting Driscoll take over.

He spoke to her like an indulgent father. “Tell us all about your so-called Initiation Night. Everything you can remember. Who was there? What happened exactly?  The more you tell us, the easier it will be for you.”

“Will I go to prison?”

“That all depends on you.”