“Could you tell if she was upset? Happy? Angry?”
“No. I mean, I wouldn’t have even remembered it if I didn’t remember the car.”
“Just to clarify, this was the Sunday after the Spring Fling.”
“Yes. The twelfth. Like I said, my sister’s birthday was the eleventh, so I know I got the day right.”
“Are you still a student at NAU?”
She laughed. “Yeah—fifth year. But I finally have enough credits to graduate.”
“And you didn’t say anything to her, didn’t hear what she was saying?”
“I was in my car at the drive-through. I just saw her as I was driving away. And I’m only thinking it was her because it looked like her—blonde, really pretty—and her car is distinctive.”
“Thank you for calling in.” He ended the call and said, “Kingman, Arizona. Two hours west of campus. If Candace was in Kingman Sunday afternoon, why? Was she visiting someone? Driving through, like our caller had been? Was she on her way back to campus or coming from campus? Who else might have seen her or her car?
“If our caller is accurate about the timing of her sighting, this means that Candace took her car from campus on Friday night and returned sometime Sunday evening. We know from NAUPD that her card key was used to enter the dorm at 11:10 p.m., though no one has come forward to say they saw her. When did she leave again? There are no cameras in the lot and parking is by permit, so there’s no tracking of when people come and go. They assumed that Candace’s car had been there all weekend because they had no witnesses who said otherwise. Did they even ask? If you know something and are worried, I will keep your confidence. Call or email me.” He recited his contact information again.
“The police issued a BOLO—or Be on the Lookout—for Joseph Abernathy as a person of interest,” Lucas said. He reminded listeners about Abernathy’s history. “A witness saw Abernathy hopping a train on Sunday morning—the morning that Candace’s body was found. Did you see Abernathy on or off campus?”
He rambled a bit, clearly expecting another call. He then went through the rest of the missing-person investigation, but it was a lot of repetition.
“We have a call,” Lucas said, trying not to sound excited. “Caller, you’re on with Lucas Vega. Do you have information about where Candace may have been the week she was missing?”
“No, but I know Joseph. I mean, I knew him.” The voice was male, older.
“How did you know Joseph?”
“I had a rough couple of months back then. Sunrise took me in. Lost my job and my house. My wife had died of cancer, and I had all these bills, and I was grieving and self-medicating. It was a fu—bad time,” he quickly corrected himself.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucas said.
“Joseph was a serious alcoholic. Half the time you couldn’t have a conversation with him. But when he was half-sober, he was a nice guy. He just couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. But I don’t think he did what the police think he did. He wasn’t a bad guy, just broken.”
“Did you see him that week?”
“I saw him sleeping down by the train tracks one night. I was doing community service. It was a way for me to give something back while I got clean. Cleaning up the roadways and stuff. And he was sleeping at a homeless encampment, just a place near the tracks. There’s a creek that goes through the area, maybe a hundred yards away. Trees and shelter and maybe five or six tents. Out of sight. It’s not there anymore, but three years ago it was. And Joseph was there, sleeping under a tree. I tried to convince him to come back to the shelter, but he told me to leave him alone. So I did.”
“Do you remember what day?”
“No, it was during the week, that’s all I know.”
“Did you tell the police about it?”
“I told Willa, the director. I assume she told the police. They came by a couple of times to talk to her, look for Joseph.”
“Did you know Candace?”
“Not really. I knew who she was. She always said hello and smiled when she served food. She was very nice.”
“And that was the last time you saw Joseph.”
“Yeah. I think something bad happened to him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he always came back. That’s what Willa said. He might leave for a few weeks, a month or two, but he’d come back, like a homing pigeon, she said. But he was sick with the drink, you know. He could have died in the middle of nowhere, and who would know?”