“Welcome to your first meeting. You’re in for quite a treat.”
The way he touched her, grabbed her like she belonged to him, sent a current through her body. He was so different from the boys at school, who broke eye contact if held too long, and who would never commit to anything for fear of rejection. Couldn’t even take what was offered, like Matt the other day on the boat, too scared to act even when she was prepared to give herself to him. Casey, she was certain, took things even before they were offered.
For an hour Nicole stood by Casey’s side as he took her around to each of the small factions and introduced her. She met guys with long hair and tattoos, girls with shaved heads and pierced everything—from noses to lips to eyebrows. They all drank canned beer and talked about random kidnappings from around the country. A college freshman was missing from Georgia and her boyfriend was suspected. A high school junior’s body had just been found in the Florida Everglades. Another newlywed had gone missing from a cruise boat, and on and on. After she and Casey made it around to each group, he took Nicole’s hand and pulled her into the barroom, sat her at the table as everyone gathered around and slid chairs to take their spots. Casey sat at the head of the table. Behind him was a chalkboard illuminated by a droplight, its large metal cone looking like a dog’s surgical collar. A long extension cord ran to a gas generator outside. The hot summer night was thick with humidity, no breeze inside the old brewhouse.
“Okay,” Casey said from the head of the table. “Listen up, people.”
Slowly, everyone quieted and took seats.
“First, she’s already done the tour tonight but let’s formally welcome Nicole.”
Everyone applauded and cheered.
“As we all know, Nicole took the overnight challenge, and despite pissing herself . . .”
A couple howls and a few screams of laughter.
“. . . She passed with flying colors. So Nicole caught a glimpse of what it’s like to be abducted. It’s something we’re all fascinated with, good or bad, creepy or not. Is it a fetish? I don’t know. Is it morbid? Probably. Would people outside the club understand? Fuck, no! Are they all liars who are just as intrigued as each of us? You bet your ass!”
Casey stood from his spot at the head of the table and picked up a piece of chalk. He tapped the chalkboard several times. “New business. For the last week we’ve spotlighted Reagan William Beneke. Serial killer from west Texas. Copped to sixty-four kills, implicated in thirty-eight. All women, snatched from Louisiana and Texas. Mostly young women, teens to late twenties. Stalked them at night, usually meeting them at bars and then seducing them. He took them to his house where he . . .” Casey looked around the room. “Use your imagination. When he was done, he strangled them and buried them in a Louisiana bayou, admitting to authorities that some of the bodies were taken by crocs. This accounts for the discrepancy between how many he copped to, versus how many were found.”
The club listened with focus.
“From his confession, corroborated by witnesses during his trial, we know he never took a victim by force. They all willingly followed him home. This reminds me of someone else who deployed a similar tactic. Anyone?”
There was silence in the barroom until Nicole finally spoke. “Dahmer.”
“Yes,” Casey said, pointing at Nicole. “Jeffrey Dahmer. Though he was completely psychotic and morbid in the manner by which he killed his victims, the way he took those victims is fascinating. Dahmer and Beneke lured their victims. Allowed them the choice to go with them, never taking any by force. So let’s open tonight’s discussion with this: What’s a greater thrill? Brute force, or the soft hook?”
They talked for an hour about Dahmer’s first victim, a hitchhiker who willingly climbed into the car and, later, entered Dahmer’s house where he was eventually killed. They moved to his other victims, mostly men picked up at gay bars and brought home to Dahmer’s grandmother’s basement. All his victims willingly followed Mr. Dahmer to his home—their eventual place of death. This type of take, Dahmer’s version and Reagan William Beneke’s version, was a different variety of abduction than the club was accustomed to. Up to this point, their mock abductions and initiations were done by force. Hood over the head, grab-and-drag style. Fast, efficient, and frightening.
“So Dahmer used his charm and his brains to get his victims to come home with him. Once they were in the basement, he drugged them and abused them and, ultimately, killed them. This club is interested in the hunt. I want us all to remember how slick Mr. Dahmer was in his approach. How charismatic he and Beneke were.” Casey smiled as he stood by the chalkboard. “This will prove vital in the days to come.”
A hushed anxiousness came over the Capture Club. Casey was planning the next abduction of a new member, and they all stirred with excitement.
Casey stared at Nicole. “The other night was a thrill for us to shove you in that shed out back. As a new member, your next stage is to turn the tables and become the abductor. Where you enjoy the thrill of stealing someone from the street, taking them to your own hideaway, and having them all to yourself. It’s almost better than being the victim. Up for it?”
The crowd collectively trained its gaze on Nicole.
“Of course,” she said.
“Good. We’ve got four prospects. All have confirmed their interest in the club.”
“Guy or girl?” Nicole asked.
“Three guys, one girl. Preference?”
There was a bit of hesitation as Nicole’s mind wandered to the dark closet in her dreams, Julie’s eyes wide and peering from within. “Girl,” she finally said.
Coleman’s cleared out as the club’s members slowly dispersed, dropping empty beer cans to the ground and leaving Casey packing up his computer and stowing away the generator. Nicole stayed behind, sipping a Miller Genuine Draft.
“I get to be part of it, right?” Nicole said.
“The take? Of course.” Casey rolled an extension cord around his arm.
“What will we do with her?”
“Bring her back here, leave her in the ruins for a while.” Casey gestured toward the back of Coleman’s where the bricks were crumbling. “We could use the shed out back, where we put you. But I think we’ll mix it up a bit. I’ll throw an old mattress in the back room, make it look like we’re going to have lots of fun with her.”
“You gonna moan in her ear?” Nicole said, sipping her beer with a seductive look in her eyes.
Casey stopped packing. “That wasn’t me.”
Nicole stood and walked over to him. “Gonna grab her chest?”
“Wasn’t me, either.”
“No?” Nicole moved closer. “Kinda wish it were.”
She was up against him now, their faces inches apart.
Casey glanced at the door. The last of the members had gone. He dropped the extension cord and grabbed her by the waist, pulled her into him.