Chapter 10

CHAPTER

10

LINDSEY

Present Day

I SAT ON my bed watching my phone ring for the tenth time. And for the tenth time I ignored it.

Ignored him.

I wasn't able to sleep last night. I had lain awake until the early hours staring at the pictures of Ryan and Jess. I had looked at them for so long that when I closed my eyes, the images were burned on the inside of my eyelids.

Ryan and Jess had been together.

I couldn't come to terms with it. With what it meant for me.

Thankfully, today was my day off. I couldn't imagine having to plaster a fake smile on my face and deal with guests and my staff while my mind was reeling.

I had been purposefully avoiding my parents all morning. I didn't know what to say to them, so I chose to say nothing. Instead, I had sequestered myself in my room and thought of nothing else but Ryan. And Jess. And Ryan and Jess.

I needed someone to talk to. Someone who would understand. But I had no one. My isolation had never felt more pronounced.

I thought I could read people. I had always relied on my instincts. But he had duped me. How was that possible? I felt like an idiot who had been snowed by a good-looking man. Not just any man, either—my sister's boyfriend.

No wonder Ryan had been so invested in the story. He had wanted to find out what happened to her. Had he been in love with her all this time? Had her disappearance shaped his life like it had shaped mine?

I wanted to be angry with him. And I was. But the dominant emotion was sadness. A little for me, and even for him as well.

My phone chimed again and I almost ignored it. But then I saw it was an alert for the new episode of the Ten Seconds to Vanish podcast. I had become almost scared to listen to it. Their endless chatter and inappropriate jokes angered me. While I appreciated them shining a light on these cold cases, I wished they could do so with a little more respect.

Despite my criticisms about their behavior, they were uncovering a lot of information that was new to the investigation. And this week's podcast claimed they had found out some interesting information regarding Jess's boyfriend. But for once, I knew the scoop before hearing it from the hosts.

Because I now knew who the boyfriend was … Ryan.

"Linds!" Dad hollered up the stairs. "You've got a visitor."

I got off the bed and headed toward the door. I had no idea who it was, but briefly wondered if I could tell Dad to send whoever it was away.

I sighed heavily as I made my way downstairs, already knowing I couldn't do that. Dad was the type of man who thought you should face life, own up to your mistakes, take accountability. And he had raised me to never shy away from anything.

When I reached the middle of the stairs, I was shocked to see Ryan standing by the front door.

I wondered what Dad would do if he knew that the man in his home was Jess's old boyfriend. That he had tracked me down and lied about who he was in order to gain my trust. Even after Jess disappeared, Dad had never been one of those shotgun you-can't-date-my-daughter kind of fathers. He left me to make my own decisions, saying he trusted me to make the right choices. Though sometimes it felt more like a lack of interest than trust. For my emotional well-being, I made it a point to never study his back-seat parenting too closely.

Despite this, I knew he'd be more than a little pissed off with this situation. More because of Ryan's connection to Jess than anything else.

I felt a violent clashing of emotions as I looked at Ryan. My body still responded at his nearness, yet it was at war with the devastating reality of who he was. His lies ripped away at my heart until all that was left was blood and pulp.

Both men turned to look up at me. My dad's smile was preoccupied as always, as if he had mentally exited the room before he had physically left.

I didn't want to look at Ryan, but I couldn't help it. Like the first time we met, I felt pulled in. I drank him in until I became sick.

It wasn't until that moment that our age difference became unmistakable. I had known he was quite a bit older than me, but seeing him standing next to my dad, it was blindingly obvious.

I focused on the crow's feet at the corners of Ryan's eyes. I noticed that his five o'clock shadow, as well as his dark-brown hair, was tinged with gray.

He was so handsome, and so much older than me.

And now all I could see—all I could feel—was betrayal and how if Jess were still here, Ryan would be waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs and not me.

"Hey, Lindsey," Ryan greeted, "I tried calling you a few times, but you didn't answer."

"I've been busy. What do you want?" He looked taken aback by the sharpness in my tone.

At my obvious annoyance, Dad seemed curious. He looked between us as if trying to get a read on the situation. As though trying to figure out how he would be expected to react.

"Maybe now isn't a great time for a visit," he remarked blandly.

Ryan ignored my dad entirely, instead appearing confused by my reaction to him. "Lindsey, are you okay?" He sounded worried.

"I … I uh, think you should go," Dad said, attempting to sound stern. It would have been comical if I hadn't been so upset. My dad wasn't the protective type, and it was clear he didn't quite know how to be where I was concerned. That wasn't our relationship. It felt like he was acting a part and fumbling over his lines.

Ryan's gaze slid to my dad before coming back to settle on me once more. "What's happened?"

Of course, he had no idea what was wrong. No idea why I was suddenly acting as if I didn't want to see him. The guy wasn't a mind reader after all.

It would be so easy to launch accusations at him like hand grenades, watching as they exploded in his dishonest face. But I didn't want to give him the chance to explain. I didn't want to hear the lies fall from his mouth.

Every part of me turned ice cold. "I have nothing to say to you."

My dad continued to watch us, though I noticed he had slowly started to make his way towards the kitchen as if the whole scene was making him uncomfortable. "Linds, do you need my help with this?" I didn't answer, my attention on Jess's boyfriend.

Ryan clenched his jaw as if he were trying to reign in his anger, his pleading eyes on mine. "I don't know what I've done to upset you, Lindsey, but I have something you'll want to hear. Please give me a few minutes. I won't stay any longer if you don't want me to."

I wasn't sure what to do. I wanted to confront him. I needed to unleash all this fury that had nowhere to go. He was my sister's boyfriend. I wanted him to know that I knew .

But what if, once he realized his cover was blown, he packed up his newly found information and left without ever sharing it with me? In that moment, my drive to find out what happened to Jess outweighed my desire to expose him.

But I didn't trust him. And even worse, I didn't trust myself with him.

"Lindsey?" My dad now seemed troubled, as if finally figuring out how he should proceed. He glanced at Ryan. "Maybe I should walk him out."

Ryan was openly scowling as he tried not to look at my father, yet somehow, I knew his anger was aimed at him. The amount of rage I felt emanating from him felt over the top given the situation. I didn't understand Ryan's level of antagonism.

Dad, however, seemed oblivious.

Feeling a bone-deep exhaustion, I came down the rest of the stairs. "It's okay, Dad, I'll talk to him." I felt like I was making the same mistakes over and over. I kept putting my trust in people who didn't deserve it.

Tell him. A voice whispered in my head. Let him know that you're on to him.

It was hard to ignore the impulse to shout in his face. But somehow, I swallowed it and kept it inside. For now.

"Alright, well, let me get out of your way." Dad seemed relieved that his assistance wouldn't be required and he hurriedly left the room.

I slid past Ryan, heading outside to the porch. He followed me and I closed the door behind us.

"What's going on?" Ryan demanded. "I've been calling you all damn day. I even went by the front desk and asked where you were, but they said you had the day off. Why didn't you tell me you were off today? You should have said something. I need to be able to get ahold of you, Lindsey. This is serious." He took a step toward me and I took a step back. He seemed intent on closing the distance between us, but I was determined to keep it. "Are you avoiding me?"

I started to turn away. I couldn't look at him. I needed to gather my thoughts. I hadn't prepared what I would say to him. I had barely been able to get my head around the whole thing myself.

Ryan reached for me, his hand wrapping around my bicep. He swung me back around to face him. "Listen, I don't know what I did or why you're ignoring me, but this isn't fair, okay. It's not fair, Lindsey. I have done everything you've asked of me. I've told you what I know. I've been completely open with you. But it's more than that." His eyes implored me to hear him out. "Lindsey, I like you." His hand slid down my arm to gently take my hand. And God help me, I let him. I loathed myself at how weak I was. "I never intended for this to happen when I came to Mt. Randall, but I'm so glad it did."

I felt paralyzed by his desperation. I wanted to forget everything I had learned. I wanted to go back to twenty-four hours ago when I felt on the verge of closure with Jess, and the potential of something with Ryan. I hated how quickly things could change for the worse. He continued to stare at me, his expression sad yet fierce.

"Goddamn it, say something!" he yelled suddenly. He grabbed my arms again and squeezed like he wanted to shake some sense into me.

I pulled out of his grip and took a step back, shock finally pushing me into action. "Don't ever yell at me."

Ryan was instantly remorseful. "I'm sorry, Lindsey—"

"You said you had information. Information so important you had to rush over here—" I stopped, my face hardening, though I already knew the answer to the question before it even left my mouth. "How did you even know where I live?"

The question took Ryan aback. "Oh, I looked you up—"

"You looked me up. Like you did when we met? What else do you know about me?" I pressed.

If I pushed hard enough, would he admit what I already knew? Could I make him tell me the truth? He had been dating Jess, so it made sense that he'd know where I lived–where Jess had lived.

"I, uh … nothing, it wasn't like that. I knew where you lived because—" He hesitated.

Was this it?

Was he going to reveal himself to be the lying bastard I already knew him to be?

Then the smile came back. The familiar easy one that made my insides quiver even as my stomach twisted into complicated knots. "I'm a journalist, remember? It's my job to know stuff."

I felt a crushing sense of disappointment. Deep down, I had hoped I was wrong about him. That maybe I got something wrong. But he wasn't going to admit anything.

I would have to bide my time to let it all out.

"You have two minutes and that's it."

He seemed frustrated. He looked tired and on edge. I wondered if it was hard for him to keep track of his lies.

"Can we sit?" he asked, indicating the steps.

I shook my head. "I'm fine standing. Just tell me what you came here to say."

He appeared dejected, but also annoyed. "Fine, I wanted you to know that I'm going to speak to Sergeant Liam O'Neil."

"Sergeant O'Neil? He worked on Jess's case," I said in confused surprise. Ryan nodded.

"He was the lead detective. I've talked to him a few times over the years. He's always danced around my questions. But last night after you left, after learning about Tammy, I called him again. I asked if I could finally see him in person and get him on the record." And there it was—his infectious enthusiasm that made it hard to remember the awful things I knew about him. "I want you to come with me, Lindsey. This is a real chance to dig into the case with someone who was there. Someone who knows the ins and outs of Jess's disappearance."

"But what could Sergeant O'Neil possibly say that would be of any use? Everyone knows the police screwed up the investigation back then," I argued, not willing myself to get excited … yet.

"I get that. But I think he has some real information. I'm not sure what's changed for him, but after all this time, he's finally letting me look at the old case files. Apparently, he made copies of everything when he retired, even though he obviously shouldn't have." Ryan was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"Okay, well, that's definitely good news." A thrilled jolt ran through me.

"I know, that's why I was trying to get ahold of you. So, what do you say? Will you come with me? I'm heading over there right now."

Ryan reached toward me as if to touch my face. It took me a second too long to evade him, his fingers brushing my skin before I pulled away.

What was wrong with me? Was I so pathetic that I craved the attention of a man I knew to be a liar? A man that had loved my missing sister? A man that was most likely using me?

"Will he even speak to you while I'm there?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm counting on you to be the one to make him spill everything." Ryan looked almost manic.

"Because I'm Jess's sister," I said, "and you think he'll feel guilty if I'm there and tell you what he knows." It wasn't a question. It was a fact, and one that Ryan readily agreed with.

"It sounded like he was more than ready to talk anyway, but what better way to ensure it happens than with you there. Jess's younger sister, still looking for answers all these years later."

"Spoken like a true journalist."

Ryan shrugged unapologetically. "But it'll work. Don't you see that? I need to see what he has. It could be a game changer. The answers and the mistakes that were made back then could be in those files. With the case being reopened, I think it's important to get ahead of everything so we can be ready." He reached for me again, his palm cupping my cheek. "And I know what this means to you. I want to help you get the closure you deserve. Maybe then we can move on from this."

I wanted to believe that in his eyes, I saw genuine affection. And yet, I had seen the photos. Ryan McKay was Jess's boyfriend.

And I was Jess's sister.

I turned away from him and I saw the hurt flash across his face.

"Let me grab my stuff." I went back inside and into the kitchen to gather my coat and purse.

"Is everything okay?" Dad barely glanced up from the car magazine in his hands.

"All good, Dad."

I couldn't tell him the truth.

I was too ashamed.

I was too embarrassed.

I hated that I had developed feelings for a man I barely knew. I should have known better. And, I hated that I needed him in order to learn more about Jess. It infuriated me that he held the keys to unlocking the mystery that was my sister.

"Where are you going? Your mom will want to know" he asked. I realized that he never inquired after me for himself. It was always for my mother. As if not for her, he wouldn't bother in the first place. The effort it took me to overlook the obvious was starting to wear me down.

"I have to head into work." Lies. "It will only be for an hour or so. I have some things to take care of." More lies. "Ryan said he'd drive me there and bring me home afterward."

I lied so easily.

Maybe Ryan and I were one and the same.

"Why don't you take your own car?" Dad asked.

I struggled to come up with a story on the spot, but I wasn't very good at it.

Dad regarded me closely for the first time. Was he actually paying attention for once? "What's going on, Linds? Who is this guy?"

"He's just a friend from work, Dad." I gave him a quick hug, wishing for a moment that I was still a kid so I could believe the delusion that my parents could fix my problems. "I'll only be a couple of hours. Tell Mom that I have my phone if she needs me for anything."

When I pulled away, Dad's eyes narrowed. "I don't like how he looks at you, Lindsey."

I swallowed thickly, unnerved by his unusual show of concern. "How does he look at me?"

My father stared at me, but I wasn't sure it was me he saw. "I know how men like that think. Please be careful."

Feeling touched, I kissed his cheek. I thought, rather optimistically, that maybe it wasn't too late to have the closeness between us I had always craved. Maybe, there was a chance for us to have our own bond. Feeling a little lighter, I headed back outside to where Ryan waited, not so patiently, for me.

My mood instantly soured at the sight of him.

"Let's get going," he said and I followed him to his car. I hesitated before getting in, wondering what other lies Ryan might have told me. Wondering who he really was. I knew I was right to be suspicious of him, but I also knew I had no choice but to go with him if I wanted to find answers. And I wanted answers more than anything.

Once he started the engine I felt him staring at me. I could tell that he wanted to say something, but was holding back.

"Where does he live?" I asked, filling the silent void between us.

"Not far. He moved away from Mt. Randall to the next town over not long after Jess's case went cold. He transferred to another police department, or was made to, I'm not sure which," he told me, turning onto the main road.

"I'm guessing he got a lot of heat for not solving Jess's case."

"The people in Mt. Randall weren't too happy. One of their local girls was gone and the police couldn't find her. They needed someone to blame." Ryan drove past the turnoff to Doll's Eye Lake. The police tape was still there. I wondered if they'd find anything else.

"And if the town turns against you, there's no coming back from that," I filled in.

"I know how it goes. I'm from a small town. too. Actually, I grew up in Leonard's Creek, which is only thirty miles from here and not much bigger than Mt. Randall. I came here a bunch of times as a kid. My grandmother lived right outside of town. She even took me to Doll's Eye Lake once."

"Oh really? Have you been there since then?" I raised my eyebrows. I already knew the answer. I had seen the picture of him and Jess there myself.

Just tell me!

"No, only the one time when I was younger," he answered tersely. I watched the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed.

"You've never said much about your life. So, you grew up not far from here?" I pushed. The fact that I knew so little about Ryan—that he had given away nothing about himself when he knew so much about me—should've been a huge red flag.

Ryan tensed up. "Yeah, I did, but there's not much to tell, really."

"Small towns can be hard, right?"

He side-eyed me warily at my probing "Sure are."

"Everyone always knows everyone else's business," I added.

"And they never let you forget a damn thing."

On some level, I understood. Growing up in Mt. Randall had been hard. I didn't really remember life before Jess vanished, only life after, and there was no escaping it. I would forever be known as the little sister of Jessica Fadley—the woman who vanished in ten seconds.

I wondered what Ryan was remembered for.

For the first time since meeting Ryan, I was a little afraid. What did I really know about this man?

"I drove out to Doll's Eye Lake a few weeks ago. It's been a long time since I'd been there," I found myself saying, more to fill the uncomfortable silence than anything else.

Talking was easier than thinking about the fact that I was in a car—alone—with him. With this man who I knew was holding things back from me. A man who had lied to me since the day we met.

His brow furrowed and his jaw stiffened. "You shouldn't have gone there."

I felt my hands tingle and my heart flutter.

I glanced at his handsome profile cautiously.

I had to believe he was only a liar and nothing more sinister.

But his next comment had me questioning my judgment once again.

"It's a pretty isolated spot. I'm not surprised Tammy was found there." He let out a heavy breath which was somewhere between a huff of annoyance and a humorless laugh. "To be honest, I'm surprised she was even found at all."

It was a strange thing to say. An awful thing, really. Ryan, realizing how it sounded, laughed again, this time with discomfort. "I mean, if you're going to dump a body, it's a good place to do it. Wouldn't you agree?"

"I … I guess." I looked out of the window, my pulse racing.

We lapsed into silence after that. Ryan lost in his thoughts and I lost in mine.

As we drove into Grantville, the town where Sergeant O'Neil lived, I broke the quiet.

"I can't be out too long or my dad will worry."

It was meant to be a warning, even if the words themselves weren't true. Dad wouldn't worry, but Ryan didn't know that. It was supposed to be a threat to not try anything because I was a woman that would be missed. I was taken aback by Ryan's sneer.

"Oh, I'm sure he will." The words dripped with a sarcasm I didn't understand.

I glowered at him, wondering where he got the audacity to be so openly hostile. He didn't know my dad. He knew nothing about my relationship with my parents. Not really. What he thought he knew about us ended when my sister went missing twenty-four years earlier.

Everything about my family had changed the day Jess went missing. Ryan only knew someone's memories of a family that no longer existed.

"Thanks for agreeing to speak to me on such short notice, Sergeant," Ryan said pleasantly. He held out his hand for the retired detective to shake.

"It's no problem. I've waited a long time for these cases to be solved. To know that at least one of those girls has been found is a light in all this darkness. I can only hope those poor families can get some closure once this is all said and done."

The retired police detective turned to me. "Hi, nice to meet you …" His words trailed off as his eyes widened. He drew in a shaky breath. "My god," he breathed. His eyes glistened and I thought he might cry. "You're the sister, aren't you." It wasn't a question.

"Hi, I'm Lindsey Fadley." I gave him a wan smile and held out my hand, but he didn't take it. He seemed to be in shock.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his weathered hand. "I recognize you. You were only a little girl when I saw you last, but I'd know you anywhere. Jessica was a beautiful young woman with so much life ahead of her. I had really hoped to find her. I'm sorry I didn't." He closed his eyes briefly, as if trying to get control of himself.

After a few seconds, Sergeant O'Neil composed himself and led us into the house. We sat down on the sagging sofa in the middle of his living room. The furniture smelled musty and every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust. He noticed me looking and gave a half embarrassed chuckle.

"I'm not one for housekeeping. That was always my wife's job. Since she passed away I've not had the heart to put her things away, or even clean up much. It's all I can do to get through each day."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said softly.

"Thanks. It feels like yesterday, but actually it was two years ago next week. She was a good woman and we had a good life. Cancer got her, and it seems I won't be far behind." He didn't sound sad about it. "That's why I agreed to talk with you." He looked at Ryan and picked up a cardboard box from the table and handed it to me. It wasn't heavy.

"What's this?" I asked, opening the lid to see piles of paper inside. I drew in a sharp breath. "Is this—?"

"That's the old case file. Or at least a copy of everything I could get my hands on. Everything I have on those missing girls is in there," Sergeant O'Neil said as I put the box on the floor by my feet. "I know I shouldn't have taken it. If anyone knew I had this, I'd be in a lot of trouble. Especially since I'm now sharing it with you. But I need to go out with a clean conscience."

"Wanting to go out with a clean conscience makes it sound like you did something wrong," Ryan said, his words taking on an edge that hadn't been there before.

"I know how it sounds," the aging former police officer replied solemnly. "The thing is, you've been like a dog with a bone all these years—constant phone calls asking if there was anything new. Seems only right that I talk to you and tell you everything I know. And what I can't tell you, maybe you can figure out for yourself from what I have in there."

I could feel Ryan's eyes on me, but I wouldn't look at him.

Sergeant O'Neil leaned forward, regarding Ryan closely for the first time. "Do I know you? Have we met before? Because you look awfully familiar." He scratched his unshaven chin. The man had to be closing in on eighty, though he seemed much older than that. I could imagine that a job like the one he'd had would take its toll. The cases we'd come to ask him about probably aged him significantly. He still seemed sharp as a tack though.

Ryan looked uncomfortable. "Oh, I don't think so—" he started to say, but I interrupted him.

"He's Ryan McKay—he was Jess's boyfriend."

I wasn't sure why I had chosen that moment to reveal what I knew, but it felt good to let it out. And perhaps I felt safer in the company of someone else.

Ryan's head snapped up and I felt his shock. I avoided his gaze, instead focusing on Sergeant O'Neil. He was the one I wanted to talk to. I would speak to Ryan later.

"Oh yes, that's right. I remember interviewing you at the time." He picked up one of the notepads on his cluttered coffee table and flipped through a few pages before putting it down and picking up a different one and doing the same. "Ryan McKay … always thought you said Ryan Kay from the Chicago Courier when you called. Probably would have put two and two together otherwise. You had been dating Jessica for only a few months when she vanished, right?"

Once again, Ryan was silent, and when I looked at him, I found he was still staring at me, seemingly dazed. I wondered if Sergeant O'Neil had misheard him all these years, or if Ryan had purposefully given him the wrong name when they spoke. I wouldn't put anything past him at this point.

"That's right," he said, his voice hoarse.

My heart sank. I hated to admit that I hoped I had been wrong. That maybe, somehow, I had gotten things mixed up. Which was silly, given the pictures I had found, but that illogical hope was there all the same. But hearing the words from his mouth hurt more than I expected, or wanted, them to.

"I interviewed you several times. Definitely viewed you as a person of interest, no offense, but in cases like this, nine times out of ten it's the significant other." Sergeant O'Neil was flipping through the pages of his notepad now, unaware of the bombshell he'd dropped.

Ryan had been a suspect. Of course he had been. It made sense.

"You had an argument right before she went to her parents' house for her little sister's birthday party." He gave me a kind smile of acknowledgment. "By all accounts, it was loud and public." He tapped the side of his head and smiled. "See, I might be old, but it's all still up here."

"You said in '98 that you didn't think an unknown serial killer was involved in the women's disappearances. Do you still believe that?" I asked him, before he got sidetracked.

When you're leading an investigation, you can't let rumors dictate things. I know there were a lot of stories swirling around. We had a scared town that we had to keep calm. That was my priority." Sergeant O'Neil sucked on his teeth noisily. "And I can't say I ever bought the idea that the North Carolina Boogie Man or some other killer was responsible."

"Why not?" I prodded.

Sergeant O'Neil patted his oversized belly. "My guts never lie. I knew we weren't looking for one of those movie-style killers. This was something else. This was personal."

"What about Dr. Daniels? Did you ever look at him?" I asked, remembering Ryan's suspicions about the professor, though now I had to wonder why he was so keen to point the finger at someone else. My heart was beating too fast. The information about Ryan and Jess's argument was another surprise. Once again I was faced with facts that the man beside me had purposefully kept from me.

Sergeant O'Neil looked unsure. "We did, but he was written off pretty quickly. I need you to understand some things about the case back then. Those girls were only missing at the time. No one suspected any foul play. At least not at first. Girls run away all the time. What was there to even look into? But Phoebe Baker's parents wouldn't stop calling and calling, so we had to check things out. Hell, we never even linked them together. There didn't seem to be any connection at all. Different women, different looks, different social circles. The only connection they had was they all went to Southern State. That's hardly a red flag, now is it?"

"A lot of people said you should have called in the FBI to take over, yet you never did. You continued to investigate the disappearances yourself," Ryan began to talk. "It's been said that you overlooked obvious suspects like Dr. Daniels from the beginning."

Sergeant O'Neil inclined his head in agreement. "Maybe so. But no one wanted to look the professor's way. He was well respected up at that school. And things run differently there. It has its own way of doing things. We were frozen out early on. Everyone was tight-lipped about him, so it was hard to run a decent investigation." He sounded frustrated as he sat upright in his chair.

"Yeah, there's Mt. Randall and there's Southern State University. The two don't often intersect, and when they do, it never goes well," I agreed.

Sergeant O'Neil sighed wearily. "It was an uphill battle. The president of that school, what's his name," he flipped through his notebook again, "Bradley Hamilton—going through him was like trying to bust down a brick wall. He circled the wagons around Dr. Daniels, and we couldn't really get near him after our initial questioning. So it was easier to drop him as a line of inquiry." He put his notebook back down on the table. "I backed off when I admit I should have pushed more." He twisted his gnarled hands together, his piercing eyes never wavering. "The truth is, Dr. Daniels's alibi was his wife. And we all know that a spouse's alibi isn't worth the paper it's written on."

He slowly got to his feet, bracing himself on the armchair. He stretched out his back and then carefully made his way over to the fireplace. He picked up a black-and-white photo that looked like it was of him and his wife. I stood up and joined him.

In that moment, I hated him. Hated him for not doing more. For being weak. For not finding those women.

"So, his wife was his alibi," I repeated. Sergeant O'Neil grunted in assent. "She claimed to have been with her husband the night Jess went missing?"

Another grunt.

"And you think she lied, yet you never followed up on it?"

Sergeant O'Neil brow furrowed as his voice took on a note of hard defensiveness. "You have to understand. He was a well-educated man. He had been teaching at Southern State University for years. It made no sense for him to have done those girls any harm. I couldn't go around pointing fingers at men like him. Certainly not without some real evidence. Particularly given the way the college shut us down and made it damn near impossible to get answers. And I had no real evidence, only my instinct, which wouldn't exactly hold up in court."

"What makes you think his wife lied, Sergeant O'Neil?" Ryan asked as he joined us by the fireplace.

"It's that gut of mine talking again. Like I said, I knew something wasn't right." His body seemed to sag under the weight of his confession. "But, the truth is—" He hesitated.

"What is it?" I urged.

Sergeant O'Neil bowed his head. "The truth is, I didn't corroborate his alibi. I never dug any deeper into him. I never went to the restaurant where Mrs. Daniels said they were that night. I never did any of the things I should have done to officially eliminate him as a suspect."

I was horrified. I knew that police incompetence had been largely to blame for the reason my sister's, and the other girls', cases were never solved. But hearing it admitted by the lead detective was like a punch to the face.

Then the rage set in.

The man was lucky he was already on death's door because I was having very violent thoughts.

Sergeant O'Neil looked repentant. "I made the wrong choices back then. A lot of them. I know that now. Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. Because it was well known around the campus that he … well, he had several interactions that weren't entirely wholesome with some of his female students. But that doesn't make him a murderer, right? A pervert, yes, but a killer? I told myself it wasn't possible. I purposefully didn't listen to my hunch. Because if I had corroborated that alibi and it hadn't added up then everything would have come out. I would have had to formally name him. The man would have lost everything. His reputation would have been ruined. And he had a family. Young children. What would that have done to them?"

"What about those missing girls?" Ryan demanded. "What about Jess?"

Sergeant O'Neil looked stricken. "If I had gone down that road, the school would have come after me. Southern State has a lot of power in that community. I was worried I'd lose my job." He placed the photograph back on the mantle, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"So you cared more about your job than those missing girls. Got it," Ryan snapped, losing all sense of journalistic neutrality.

"I've felt more than enough shame about my choices back then. Because I was pushed out anyway, once it became clear I wasn't going to find Jessica. It was one thing when they were only a few girls from up on the hill, but once it was one of their own," Sergeant O'Neil's face took on a faraway expression, "it mattered a hell of a lot more."

"Let's say you had listened to your instincts about Dr. Daniels? What then?" I asked.

"Well then," he stated matter-of-factly, the fierceness returning. "he would have been my number one suspect."

Ten Seconds to Vanish: The Unsolved Disappearance of Jessica Fadley

Episode 6

Stella: Welcome back, true crime lovers, I'm your host Stella—

Rachel: And I'm Rachel.

Stella: And this is Ten Seconds to Vanish: The Unsolved Disappearance of Jessica Fadley.

*Theme music plays*

Stella: Guys, we've been the number one true crime podcast on iTunes and Spotify for the past month!

Rachel: I can't believe how people have taken to our show. I know it has everything to do with our girl Jessica.

Stella: I've opened a brand new bottle of red. You want some, Rach?

Rachel: Absolutely, and then let's jump right into it, because things have really taken a turn this past week.

Stella: Have they ever! I'm having a hard time keeping up with the twists and turns in this case. So, my murder-loving beauties, I'm sure you've all heard that the police have finally issued a statement about those remains found at Doll's Eye Lake outside of Mt. Randall.

Rachel: Who the hell names a lake, "Doll's Eye"? What kind of crazy, nightmare fuel is that?

Stella: I know, it sounds like something straight from a Stephen King novel.

Rachel: Okay, so this new detective seems to actually have her shit together, which is a nice change from the sloppy police work that has dogged this case so far.

Stella: You can tell Detective Higgins is a bad-ass bitch. And that lady is on it . No stone unturned and all that.

Rachel: Detective Higgins has come out and said that those remains—the ones that we were all so convinced were Jessica's—they're not Jessica.

Stella: Nope. And it turns out that the bones found at the lake—this place that was one of Jessica's favorite spots–well, it's none other than Tammy freaking Estep.

Rachel: What the actual crap is going on here?

Stella: And that's not all. It turns out Tammy was killed by a blow to the head! And, the underwater forensic team is now on site, diving into Doll's Eye Lake to look for more remains. And guess what … sources say they've found something.

Rachel: More bodies?

Stella: Maybe. Police are being tight-lipped about it, which is really annoying. But I think we can deduce that more bodies have been found. Now, whether they're connected to Tammy and Jessica has yet to be determined.

Rachel: It could be anybody floating around down there.

Stella: Maybe it's one of our other missing girls.

Rachel: Maybe it's Jessica.

Stella: Maybe. But back to Tammy. Why were her bones at this lake? From what I've read, this place is really off the beaten path. You'd have to know it's there to find it, and Tammy wasn't from the area. To me, that obviously shows she was dumped there.

Rachel: If this is a place only known by locals, it narrows down the suspect pool considerably.

Stella: It sure does. But let's move on because there's another girl we need to talk about.

Rachel: That's right. We've talked about Jessica, Tammy, and Phoebe. So that only leaves …

Rachel and Stella in unison: Meghan Lambert.