Chapter 20

CHAPTER

20

BEN FADLEY

August 23, 1999

7:05 PM

I HADN'T HELD my daughter in a long time. I wanted to freeze this moment so it could last forever.

I was scared of what waited for my girl out there. Of what would happen when the world found out.

I had failed her.

I hadn't protected her.

I couldn't explain to her why I did the things I did. How I loathed that part of me that desired things I shouldn't. That I loved her. That I loved her mother and sister, but they didn't fill the hole inside me.

I craved things that a well-respected man like me shouldn't.

I got off on the thrill that was lacking in every other part of my life.

I was a husband. I was a father. I was a businessman.

And it would never, ever be enough.

I hadn't wanted Jess to know about that ugly side of me. I never wanted her to see me for who I really was. But she had.

And in the process I had not only exposed myself, I had exposed a darkness in her that I never knew existed.

Jess pulled back, wiping furiously at her eyes as if the tears she had allowed to escape disgusted her.

"I'm surprised you're even here. Don't you have some young girl to screw?" She was being hateful. She never spoke to me like this. I was used to her smiles and her laughter. I didn't know what to do with this anger and hate. Yet, it was no more than I deserved.

In that instant, I realized she'd never let me forget. That we were stuck in an endless cycle that would go on and on forever. Her misdirected wrath would be our undoing.

"Who is it this time? Do I know her?" she demanded, pushing me away from her. "Tell me."

"There's no one, Jess. I promise."

She laughed. It was a far cry from the sweet giggle of her childhood. This was pain and misery. This was a woman who wanted to burn the world down.

"Like your promises mean anything."

"You have to stop this, sweetheart. This anger is consuming you." I tried to placate her, but that seemed to infuriate her more.

"I told you, I didn't want to do any of this. I didn't mean for it to happen," she cried.

I tried to reach for her again. "Shh, I know, darling. I know …"

She flung my hands away. "But they deserved it. If I didn't stop them, it would keep happening. More families would be ruined. More little girls would lose their fathers." Her lips began to tremble and my heart broke.

"You haven't lost me, Jess. I swear it."

"But I have!" she shrieked and I looked nervously over my shoulder at the kitchen door, hoping Cara hadn't heard her. "Because as much as you say you love us, you love them, too."

I recognized the signs of her losing control. And my little girl was dangerous when she got to that point.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt Tammy, or the others—"

Jess gripped her hair at her scalp. "They wouldn't listen, Dad. I tried to make them see reason. I thought I could talk to them. Show them what a broken family looked like. Explain how much it hurt. But they. Just. Wouldn't. Listen!"

This was the same story she told me every time. How she used her roommate's ID card and waited for her RA in the school's computer lab late at night. Jess knew Tammy went every evening before bed to check her email. My daughter explained that she coaxed Tammy outside behind the building and hit her over the head with a broken piece of pipe she picked up off the ground. It was pure luck that it stormed that night, washing away all traces of blood on the grass.

She claimed she didn't mean to do it. They'd argued but Tammy wouldn't listen. Jess had begged her to end her relationship with her teacher. She told her she was ruining someone's family.

"But she didn't care. So, I stopped her."

And then months later, she tracked Phoebe down at the library. She had asked her to talk outside. They argued, just as she and Tammy had. In the heat of that one, terrible moment, my daughter strangled her friend. Phoebe had said she was in love. She couldn't stop it. She didn't want to. That she planned to be with her lover. That she was convinced he would leave his family for her. Jess had cried and cried over Phoebe. That one had nearly destroyed her.

But then there was beautiful Meghan. Jess couldn't help herself. That one was entirely about me. If only I had been able to control myself, Meghan—and the others—might still be alive.

She was full of unrelenting anger that time. Before I could push the body overboard, Jess, in a rash decision, shoved something on the dead girl's finger.

I knew what it was. Jess broke my heart when she discarded the ring. She thought she was making a point. Letting me know what my actions had cost her. We both felt it. Our bond was now hanging by a thread.

"They wouldn't listen. This is their fault. I didn't want to, but I had no choice," she moaned sadly.

She took her anger out on the ones who deserved it least. Every single day since she killed those girls, I wished she had killed me instead.

"I know," I said softly, finally grabbing hold of my daughter again and pulling her close, rubbing her back like I had done when she was little.

She had called me each time to help her. Of course I helped her. I would always be there for her. It was as if she were in an altered state and it was only when the bodies were cooling on the ground at her feet that she would wake up in a panic.

I had wanted to go to the police.

My guilt and desire to protect my girl at all costs kept me quiet.

But this had to stop.

It had to stop now.

"She couldn't stop herself, so I had to step in. It's what a father should do."

There was a high-pitched ringing in my ears.

"No." Ryan's voice was far away. "You're lying."

"I wish I was." Dad looked devastated, yet relieved to finally share the truth. "I wish I could tell you something different." Dad looked shattered. He was broken into a hundred pieces.

"She k-killed them?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. " All of them ?"

Dad let out a horrible sob as he grabbed me. "She was a good person, Lindsey. Don't think badly of her, please ."

My knees buckled and my father held onto me before I could collapse. I felt numb. Hollowed out. I was trembling all over.

How could this be the truth that I had been searching for all these years? My loving older sister, who had been missing for twenty-four years, was a killer.

And my father …

I pushed my dad away, his arms falling to his sides. I didn't want him near me. It felt wrong. He felt wrong. I stared at him, my eyes beseeching and then he continued. Though it was obvious now where this sordid story was going.

"I didn't want to," Dad moaned. "It was the last thing I wanted to do. But she gave me no choice."

Oh god …

Then the whole picture began to emerge.

Ben Fadley April 23, 1999

I rubbed her back. I felt her bunch up my shirt in her unforgiving fists.

"This is all your fault, Daddy. It has always been your fault." Her words were horrible yet, in that moment, she sounded like my little girl again. When I was only her Daddy, the person she loved most.

And she was going to spend the rest of my life making me pay. She didn't even mean to do the things she did. I knew that.

Jess wasn't a wicked person with evil in her heart.

She was hurting. She was full of so much pain that she didn't know how to handle it other than to hurt others.

Those she felt were to blame for the mess her life had become.

She couldn't stand the thought of a family being torn apart. She blamed me. She blamed them. She blamed everyone but herself.

"Take it out on me," I implored her that first time after coming to the college late at night. I had parked my car in the library parking lot and found my daughter in shock, her skin white and her lips colorless, with a dead girl at her feet. I had bundled the body into the trunk of my car and driven us out to the place that had once been the site of so many wonderful memories together.

"Stop hurting these girls. You should be mad at me. Mat at that teacher." I was setting myself up for violence, I knew that. But I couldn't bear my child becoming a demon as a result of the pain I had inflicted.

"I am mad at you. At every man like you. But you're still my dad." Her voice had been tiny and fractured.

That was her only reason and in some awful way, I understood. Our love for each other had always been the best thing. Now it was the worst.

I helped her dispose of the bodies. She told me she had buried the first one, wrapped in the same blanket I had tenderly tucked around her when she was a baby. She couldn't remember where. The woods are large so I could never find the spot. I only hoped she had been smart about it. I couldn't imagine my diminutive daughter being able to carry a dead body on her own. But if there was one thing I had learned it was that I could never underestimate what she was capable of.

We had taken the paddleboat and gone out to the middle and tossed her other mistakes into the deep, deep water.

I paused, my eyes filling.

"This is all your fault," she whispered, no longer crying into my shirt.

"I know," I agreed.

She was a danger.

"I love you so much."

"I know, sweetheart."

She had to be stopped.

"I'm so sorry," my voice cracked. "I love you, Jess."

I wrapped my hands around her neck and squeezed.

She stared at me, eyes wide, mouth gaping.

In the end, I think she was glad. She could see how much it was destroying me. She liked that it hurt me. But she must have felt relief that it was going to be over.

It lasted a long time and my girl was strong. Taking the life of someone you love is the hardest thing you can ever do. And she fought.

But I had to protect her from herself. I had to protect Cara. And Lindsey. I had to protect every other woman that she saw as a threat.

Jess had become a liability to our family. She had become a danger to everyone. Especially to herself.

Eventually, it ended.

She stopped fighting.

Stopped clawing at me.

When it hit me what I had done, I started crying. I cradled her body, wishing she would wake up. Wishing I could take it all back.

This was all my fault.

More time went by and I could hear Lindsey yelling.

"Jessie!"

Then it turned to a scream.

In a panic, I put my baby girl's body in the trunk of the Mustang and went to check on my other daughter.

Lindsey:

"Where is she?" I asked, my voice taking on a strength I hadn't known I possessed. The ringing was subsiding. The realization finally settled into my gut.

Somehow, it all made sense. Perfect, horrible sense.

Everything from then and now, all combining into this one awful reality. Jess had killed all of those innocent women.

Because my dad had driven her to it.

And then he had killed her.

My father had murdered my sister.

"Where is she?" I asked again.

I watched as he shook his head, his face contorted in anguish. I glanced at Ryan. He was still staring blankly into space, his face ashen.

"I'm sorry," Dad whispered, his agony palpable.

I didn't care about his guilt, all that mattered was the truth.

Ben Fadley:

The police came. We filed a missing person's report.

All the while she waited for me in the garage.

That night after Lindsey and Cara were finally asleep, I slipped out of the house and hooked up the paddleboat to the back of the Mustang as I had done a hundred times before. Then I drove my little girl to the only spot I could take her.

I carefully bundled her up and prepared to put her in the boat. I stood there, on the shore, holding her like I had done a thousand times before. I rocked her, pressing her to my chest. The gleam of the water in the moonlight bore a sad witness to our tragedy.

"I'm so sorry," I cried, holding her one last time.

She was so beautiful. She could be sleeping.

A flash of lights at the shore startled me, I could see a car driving through the trees. The car parked, its music blaring.

In a frenzy to conceal her and retie the boat to the Mustang, I broke the right taillight with the metal hitch. I would never be able to bring myself to fix it.

And then, I made the long, terrible journey back home.

With my dead daughter.

Careful to be as quiet as possible, I lifted the garage door, turned off the engine and pushed the car and boat back inside.

Then, under the cover of that horrible night, I wrapped my sweet Jess in some plastic sheeting we had used when decorating. I secured it tightly with duct tape and then I put her in the bottom of the boat.

The same boat we used to take out on those still, murky waters.

And I kept her close.

Explaining the smell away and covering the stink of decay as best I could. Surprisingly, no one ever questioned it.

I always intended on taking her out to the lake, but eventually, I appreciated having her nearby. I could go out to the garage and talk to her like she was still there.

And in those quiet moments, I didn't feel her anger or her hatred.

Only her love.

Lindsey:

Dad led me out to the garage. He lifted the tarp, revealing the boat for the first time.

"She's in there." His voice cracked and he looked away as I carefully stepped aboard. I pulled back the old sheet that had covered her body for all these years.

I stared down at the bundle that was my sister, hoping that she hadn't suffered too much, in life or in death. Maybe I shouldn't feel any sympathy or kindness toward a woman who inflicted such atrocities. But this kind of love, like what I felt for my sister, was black and sticky like tar—it would never go away, even if I scrubbed my skin raw.

"I tried to hide her as best I could. I didn't want anyone to know what she'd done. It was better for her to be missing than a monster," Dad rasped, his words strangled, yet strangely content.

I knew he truly believed he had made the right choice. He had protected her in the only way he could. And in doing so, he had been the father she deserved. The father he hadn't been brave enough to be when she was alive.

I glanced at Ryan, who had followed us out to the boat. His eyes met mine and I saw something there that looked like relief.

He finally knew what had happened to the woman he loved. Maybe he could move on. Now, knowing the truth about Jess, maybe he could forgive himself.

He gave me an imperceptible nod and slipped back into the kitchen, his phone pressed to his ear. I heard him talking to the dispatcher on the other end, giving our address, telling them what we found.

Dad stared at me, his expression filled with a wrenching adoration that wasn't meant for me.

"I've only ever wanted what was best for my girl. She's all that ever mattered," he rasped.

I carefully unwrapped my sister's body, forcing myself to look at the skeletal remains she had become. Her hands had been crossed over her chest. Some wisps of dark hair still clung to the intact skull. The bleached, white bones of her teeth created a ghastly smile. Even though the sockets were empty, I strangely felt her gaze on me. As if Jess were watching our reactions, enjoying the show.

Dad let out a strangled cry and climbed into the boat beside me, dropping to his knees. He gently, lovingly, touched the bones, an anguished wail ripping from somewhere deep inside him. Tears dripped down his cheeks.

"My sweet girl, I'm sorry I failed you," he whispered. He looked up at me, his eyes deadened with fresh grief. "Please, we have to keep her safe."

I didn't know what to say. I was paralyzed. Incapable of doing anything other than stare at my father as he wept over the naked bones of my long-dead sister. He rocked back and forth, whispering words for her alone. Words she couldn't hear, but he needed to say anyway. As if it would absolve him of his guilt and shame.

"I'm sorry, Jess. I'm so sorry, my beautiful girl."

I got out of the boat, leaving my father behind, cradling Jess's remains, sobbing uncontrollably for the daughter he had lost. A daughter who had become the stuff of nightmares.

A daughter he had stopped before she could hurt anyone else.

I knew then that I wanted no part of this twisted familial bond ever again.

"Lindsey … please …" he began.

I knew what he was going to ask. Everything inside me told me to reject it. To deny him this last comfort because he didn't deserve it.

And neither did she.

But for some reason—perhaps in a final act of painful, soul-crushing love—I found myself agreeing.

"No one will ever know. I promise."

He closed his eyes, his body caving beneath the weight of his hideous secrets as the sound of sirens wailed in the distance.

Ten Seconds to Vanish: The Unsolved Disappearance of Jessica Fadley

Episode 13

The Finale

Stella: Hi everyone. Welcome to … an epilogue of sorts, I guess. 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: We ended this podcast three weeks ago, and a lot has happened since then. So much, in fact, that we had to go back and re-tape this final episode to keep up to date with all the news that's come out since calling it a wrap.

Rachel: Because guys, there's been an arrest in the case of the missing coeds of Southern State University. And it's not any of the suspects we were dancing around all season.

Stella: It's a bit frustrating. We researched so much and I swore it was the teacher!

Rachel: Well, my money was on the boyfriend. It was wild when we discovered he'd been involved with all four of the missing girls. Who saw that coming?

Stella: I know some of our listeners were convinced it was a nameless serial killer. That particular theory really picked up steam toward the end. If this were a book or a movie, it would make sense.

Rachel: Goes to show you, life is stranger than fiction. It's what keeps true crime podcast creators like us in business.

Stella: Very true. I do want to touch on one thing before we give you the big news. There's been quite a bit of criticism thrown our way about how we handled these cases. Saying we were making light of the disappearances and murders. I want to apologize to anyone who we may have offended. It was never our intention to minimize the deaths of these four women.

Rachel: Exactly. And it's actually made us do some soul searching. To really think about how we move forward with this podcast. We want to do some good, so that means acknowledging when we get things wrong.

Stella: Well said, Rach. We have an obligation to the victims, and their families, to be respectful. To remember that these are real people who experienced very real tragedy. This isn't about entertainment, but about giving them a voice.

Rachel: And that's what we're here to do, ya know?

Stella: Okay, back to the big break. So, Rach, you'll never guess who's now being charged with the murders of not only Jessica Fadley, but also Tammy Estep, Phoebe Baker, and Meghan Lambert.

Rachel: I know the answer, but I'll let you do the honors. Drumroll, please.

Stella : Benjamin Fadley! Lieutenant Jane Higgins held a news conference yesterday announcing they had arrested Jessica's father for all four murders. Turns out he confessed to every single one.

Rachel: And Jessica's remains were found in the house, actually in the garage in an old boat.

Stella: That's right, she had been there the whole time. I'd be surprised if that place wasn't haunted by a very unhappy Jessica.

Rachel: Definitely. I hope she's haunting the shit out of her crappy dad. What a psycho!

Stella: We're not too sure of the motive, but it seemed, like the pervy teacher, dear ol' Dad had a thing for the too young and very gorgeous. Maybe Jessica found out and he had to shut her up.

Rachel: God, I keep thinking about the poor sister. Can you imagine finding out your dad killed not only your sister, but a bunch of other girls, too?

Stella: I don't know, but from all accounts, Lindsey Fadley is the one that turned her dad in.

Rachel: Well, I hope she finds some kind of peace. She deserves it.

Stella: I heard that she's planning to move to New York to manage a posh hotel there. Sounds like the remaining Fadley girl is going to do just fine.

Rachel: And Jessica and Lindsey's mom? How did she take the news?

Stella: Cara Fadley hasn't issued a statement. All I know, from anonymous sources of course—

Rachel: Of course.

Stella: Is that Cara has filed for divorce—

Rachel: Obvs.

Stella: And she's selling the house and getting out of there. Can't say I blame her.

Rachel: I hope both she and Lindsey can move on.

Stella: As for our main suspect, the creepy professor. A little birdie told me—

Rachel: From more anonymous sources—

Stella: He had his retirement funds frozen by the university after the press got ahold of his name.

Rachel: And, we can say who he is now.

Stella: Yep, we can tell the world, or the thousands of you listening, that Dr. Clement Daniels preyed on his students.

Rachel: And his wife left him, too. Three cheers for wives kicking their skeevy husbands to the curb!

Stella: That's right. And Ryan McKay, aka the "hottie boyfriend," is actually an award-winning journalist with the Chicago Courier. He's written a three-part series on his search for Jessica, ending with the arrest of her father. Everyone is saying he could win a Pulitzer. And to think you thought he was guilty, Rach.

Rachel: I was so off the mark with that one. But it sounds like some good has come out of all this.

Stella: Well, that's it for Ten Seconds to Vanish: The Now Solved Disappearance of Jessica Fadley. But Rachel and I hope you join us next season as we dive into the cold case murder of Jenny Malone. A young woman who was found bludgeoned to death in a field six miles from her home in 1954.

Rachel: Oh no, that poor girl!

Stella: I know, right? Anyway, until next time, true crime babes, stay safe.