Chapter 9

The Pirates gameis on the television, but Rich isn’t watching baseball. His earbuds are in, and he’s listening to the Farley Files trailer on a loop. On the other side of the family room, Amy reads her novel for her book club. Ava’s sprawled on her stomach on the floor, playing some game on her phone, and Owen and Evan appear to be actually watching the game.

Rich wanted nothing more than to vanish into his workshop after dinner with a vague excuse about working on his latest project—a set of cedar planters for Amy’s perennials. But Evan mentioned the Pirates were playing, and Amy pulled out the popcorn maker. Lured by the buttered treat, his family gathered in the den, and he figured his absence would irritate his wife.

So here he sits, Maisy Farley’s voice in his ear, and a churning tightness in his gut.

… On Friday, May 27th, at the start of the Memorial Day Weekend, a group of teenagers gathered around a small bonfire deep in the woods to drink and celebrate the fast-approaching end of the school year. One of those present was sixteen-year-old Heather Ryan.

The bonfire was not actually that small. Nor was it the only fire in the woods that night. McKeesport High wasn’t the only school whose students used the woods to party. In fact, Rich had planned to give his own school’s fire a wide berth. He wanted to hang out with a group of guys he knew from basketball camp. But then he’d spotted Heather.

Heather disappeared that night and has never been seen or heard from again. No body was ever found. No suspects were ever identified, at least not publicly. The girl seemingly vanished without a trace. For three decades, her case has remained an open missing person’s case. Ice cold, and without a single apparent lead.

Evan and Owen erupt with excitement, pulling his attention back to the television. Someone’s hit an out-of-the-park homer and is waving his cap as he rounds third. Amy glances up, placing a finger on her page to mark her spot. He catches her eye and hurriedly raises his fist in a cheer. She smiles and returns to her reading. He’s missed the snippet of her speaking during the faux celebration. That’s okay by him. Her voice explaining how her parents died still hoping to be reunited with their missing daughter is like a knife to his gut.

Amy, just eighteen months older than Heather, was at the bonfire that night, too. She says Heather was in high spirits, singing and dancing with her friends. And then she was gone.

This is true. Heather was putting on a show, undulating in front of the fire. Her long permed hair was bouncing off her back as she moved, and eventually she lifted the mass of heavy curls off her neck, holding it up with one hand. He was like a moth, drawn to the fire. Or, let’s be real, the girl. Which was a problem. He had a serious girlfriend. Or as serious of a girlfriend as an eighteen-year-old could have. But Julia was a grade ahead and had gone to college the year before. Just to Pitt, so they stayed together—sort of. She had stopped coming home after her winter break, expecting Rich to travel into Oakland to hang out. And he did, but he was getting tired of being treated like a kid by her friends, most of whom were only months older than him. And that’s when he started seeing Heather on the side.

Now, as the thirtieth anniversary of Heather’s disappearance approaches, her sisters have reached out to the Farley Files. Youngest sister Kristy explains they need to know what happened to Heather that night in the woods and where she ended up.

But Heather, who’d been into the whole secret relationship at first, had started to whine about being used. She’d even threatened to tell Julia. He glances at his wife and tries to remember why he cared so much.

He’d known, even as a senior in high school, that he wouldn’t end up with Julia. Or Heather. But at the time, the thought of Heather ratting him out had seemed like the end of the world. He had to keep her in line. He became distant. And that’s why he knew the whole thing with kid from Allderdice was a nothingburger. Heather was only trying to make him jealous by coming onto that guy. Trying to get his attention. Well, she succeeded.

Now his sister-in-law’s voice fills his ears.

Kristy: [I]t’s been thirty years. Nothing we learn will change how we feel about our sister.

He wonders if that’s true. He thinks if Amy, who was a virgin when they started dating, finds out Rich had been screwing her little sister, it’d definitely change how she feels about him. But more than that, it could change how she feels about Heather, too. And he’s not sure, but he thinks Kristy might know—or suspect—something. Did she give him a sidelong look when she told the others about Heather’s pager? It felt like she did. Like maybe she knew he paged their sister for hookups.

The clip restarts, and he digs his fingers into the denim of his jeans. When Diana had proposed the idea of contacting the podcast in a last-ditch effort to find Heather, he’d kept his cool. He didn’t really think they’d go through with it. And he certainly didn’t think Maisy Farley would be interested in the thirty-year-old case of a teenager who almost everyone had written off as a runaway.

Wrong, much? he thinks, using one of Ava’s favorite digs. He barks out a bitter laugh and immediately regrets it as Amy glances up from her book to shoot him a quizzical look.

He pops out one earbud and lies smoothly as he gestures toward the television. “You know how I feel about these national TV announcers. I’m listening to the KDKA radio broadcast on my phone. Anyway, they just said something funny.”

She nods, uninterested, and goes back to reading. He exhales.

Keep it together, Rich. Everyone who was in the woods that night has maintained their silence for three decades. He has to trust that won’t change.