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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.

“Don’t tease if you can’t deliver.”

Nicole dropped her beer. It hit the ground and spouted fizz. She put her hands on the back of his neck. “I’m not a teaser.” She pulled his face to hers and kissed him.

Casey’s hands were all over her, and after a minute he pushed her backward onto the table. Her earlobe was in his mouth when he whispered, “How old are you?”

Nicole grabbed his face and looked into his eyes. “You duct-taped my mouth and threw me in a shed overnight. This can’t be any more illegal.”

He pushed her farther onto the table. Besides their voices and their moans, the only noise came from the generator outside that gave life to the single, isolated bulb that cast the brewery in shadows.