Lizzy was frantically waving at them. “We have another caller,” Lucas said. He put the phone on speaker. “Hello, are you there?”
There was a long pause, and Regan thought maybe the caller had hung up.
Then a muffled, likely female voice said, “Maybe someone should find out what Taylor James and Candace were really fighting about at the party. Maybe not everyone who overheard the fight is telling the truth.”
The caller hung up.
Lucas seemed stunned. “Well, that sounds ominous. But without more information, it’s hard to know what to do with it. Right, Regan?”
“It’s interesting, but I agree, without more details the caller sounds like she wants to stir the pot.” Yet…Regan wasn’t so sure about that.
It was definitely worth looking into.
Ten
Lizzy signaled to Lucas through the window that they only had five more minutes. Lucas needed more—there had to be more people with information. “Regan,” he said, “you mentioned that the earlier caller was trying to ‘stir the pot.’ Is this common in investigations you’ve conducted? That people will make unfair or unsubstantiated accusations?”
“First, I didn’t conduct investigations. I was involved first in courthouse security and witness protection, then fugitive apprehension. But it’s true that in any criminal investigation, the police need to make assessments on the viability of statements, weighing the import of the information based on several factors, not just evidence—which, of course, is primary.”
“But if you have two conflicting statements, how would that be resolved in the investigation?”
“The police would attempt to confirm each statement. If they conflicted, then one person would be lying, or possibly remembering an event differently. That’s why witness testimony can be difficult. Take, for example, if I’m standing on one side of the street and you’re standing on the other, and we both see a fight. Maybe I see a weapon and report that information. You don’t see the weapon because you’re at a different angle. You are emphatic that there was no weapon. The police would then search for evidence, as well as dig deeper into the interviews to determine exactly where we were standing, what might have been obscured, even ask if we are visually impaired.”
Lizzy motioned that there was a caller. She sent him a text message, which he showed to Regan.
Male, no name, says he saw C Monday.
Lucas took the call. “Hello, sir, this is Lucas Vega and Regan Merritt. When did you see Candace?”
“I’m not one hundred percent positive,” he began, “but after thinking about the last caller, who saw Candace on Tuesday morning coming out of the library, I’m ninety percent sure that I saw her in the library on Monday. It might have been Wednesday, but I think it was Monday. Before closing.”
“How certain are you that it was during the week Candace was allegedly missing?”
“Well, I know it was a Monday or Wednesday, and it was in April—I was tutoring those two nights in one of the study rooms all month. Basically, from when I got back from spring break until finals in May, but she was already dead by then, right?”
“Yes. Her body was found April 19.”
“So I don’t hang out at the library, but it’s convenient for tutoring. I was leaving, so it was between nine and ten. The library closes at ten, and my tutoring was from eight until whenever my student understood the lesson. I was walking out and I remember thinking she looked lost. I mean, she was hot, so I noticed her. I probably shouldn’t say that.”
“All memories are valid,” Regan said. “Where exactly in the library did you see her?”
“The study rooms on the second floor. I was coming out, about to go down the stairs. She was coming up. She had this big, huge bag. Too big for a purse, but too small for a suitcase.”
“Do you remember the color?” Regan asked.
Lucas wanted to ask why that was important, but remembered earlier when Regan said that asking about specific details could yield better information.
“Not really. Not black or anything dark, I don’t think. Maybe gray or pink or blue or something. I really don’t remember. Just a big bag, over her shoulder.”
“Do you remember what she was wearing?”
“A Lumberjack sweatshirt, I’m almost positive. Just one of the standard gray sweatshirts, said Lumberjacks across the front. You see them everywhere on campus.”
“So how can you be sure she was wearing one?”