Page 135 of Somebody's Watching Me
“They intern with Toby at the same hospital, and those first couple of months is when he brings CeCe up from St. Thomas to live with him and start college.”
“We think CeCe lived with Toby only because that’s what it says in her college transcripts,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter because their friend group is growing larger, and Toby’s behavior becomes erratic again. He starts pushing boundaries like in Grenada.”
“Etienne claimed that it wasn’t a big deal. Meanwhile, Henderson and Gilbert look the other way because this is just Toby. He’s not doing anything they don’t want to do or haven’t done themselves without getting caught.”
Thinking of all the people hurt by these men made Jamison sick. Some victims had come forward through the years. Women. Men. Relatives of missing people who were last seen associating with the group during their time in Lauderdale.
“And when Toby really starts to slip, it’s not just the four of them any longer. They’ve gained some traction. New friends to play with. Toby puts that pathological narcissism to use and convinces the group what he’s doing is natural.”
Jamison let out a huff of disgust. “Yeah, because mutilating people is totally normal.”
“Still, they’re into it, but when someone questions him, he plays off their fears of being discovered and then gives promises of protection,” Liam said. “Mix in some warped interpretation of Eastern philosophy and boom...”
She waved a hand in the air. “Zanmi is born.”
The name had come from Marcus. Zanmi meant friend in Etienne’s native language. A friend who was like a brother or sister. They weren’t sure if the group utilized it before Toby’s arrest, but Marcus had used it to describe their relationship and the name stuck, attaching itself to anyone who believed Toby to be innocent.
“And with CeCe’s help, the first set of girls die.”
“I still don’t believe she was the only one who helped Toby,” Jamison argued.
Simone, Annabeth, Evie… none of them believed it either. With Bernie’s blessing, Will had come out of retirement to aid in the case, and he agreed to an extent. “Cecilia Miller might not have taken part in the killings, but she would have known what was happening. Toby can mask what he is to the public, but he probably couldn’t with her. It’s why he continues to mourn her. He treated the others as if they were family, but he didn’t trust them. The monster and the man trusted CeCe and loved her unconditionally.”
Friendship and finding your family were the foundations of Zanmi, and its appeal gathered all sorts. Regular people who found themselves searching for something in life, and holding on to the belief that these good-looking, capable doctors were going to make things better, in addition to bringing their warped sexual fantasies to life.
The information gathered about the group during those early years was enough to creep out even her. Mutilations. Limb removal. Snuff films. Too much for a normal human to comprehend.
“But then CeCe moves to Missouri, and Toby stays in Miami. He’s really into it now, learning the type of person to persuade into their flock. Introverts with poor home lives, young homeless people, those with egos as enormous as his, but without the charisma or planning skills to gain power.” She shifted to her side, needing to face him. “Bruised, not broken, right?”
“The best kind of person for what he needs.” He turned with her, a smile on his lips as he imitated his dad’s voice. “People who have been beaten down in life but continue to have hope that things will get better. The hope is their downfall. Toby knows how to use it as a weapon. He takes it and gives them a purpose along with a belief system. After that, they’re easily molded into almost a disciple-like state, creating people who will live and die by their new safety net.”
The smile on his face faded. “I mean, it’s common with his type to gather different people from different backgrounds so he can create a false sense of diversity, but where did he learn it? From what your dad says, Charlie wasn’t really like that.”
“It’s ingrained in him.” She scooted closer, seeing if he would pull away. “Coded in our DNA like a bad hereditary disease. Fairweathers are… I don’t want to say manipulators, but—“
“Oh, really?”
His sarcasm had her pinching his chest. “Helping people turn to our way of thinking is easier for us.”
“No shit,” he scoffed. “You change the way you talk, the way you hold yourself, and even the way you listen and respond when you’re working someone over.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“You once said the word pop instead of soda to an investor from Michigan and adapted the man’s accent while replying to his questions. I was scared.”
She grinned at how disturbed he seemed by it. “Well, I’m kind of a scary woman.”
“So, true. And let’s not get started on your dad.”
No, they didn’t need to go there. Her father never had to put much effort into persuading people to listen. They were naturally drawn to him, obeying without argument.
“But what Toby does is just so much more,” Liam went on. “He seems to be able to lock on to a person’s fears and dreams within minutes of meeting them.”
“I guess that’s how he convinced a bunch of his people to move here when he did.”
“You know, he returned around the same time as Samuel.”
She thought for a minute, trying to remember the details. “Yeah, maybe? It was like a couple of months’ difference, and you’ve always said it was a weird coincidence.”
