“I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong. But she was cute, like I said, and I kinda knew her—she was a year older than me, but I was in a frat, and she and some of the sorority girls would come over when we had parties and stuff. So I did a double take, you know, because like I said, hot, and she was completely oblivious. Just walked by me, and I said something like, ‘Good to see you, too, Candy.’ She looked at me and gave me that You’re an asshole look, and I laughed.”
He remembered a lot. Was it a real memory? Or real…but the wrong time frame? Lucas wasn’t certain. “Did you go to the police,” he asked, “when you found out she had been killed?”
“No, but I remember telling my roommate that I’d thought I’d just seen her.”
Regan asked, “You said that she was walking up the stairs from the ground floor to the second floor, after nine on possibly Monday or Wednesday night. Do you remember where she went from there?”
“Yeah, she went up to the third floor.”
“How can you be so sure three years later?” Lucas asked.
“I didn’t really think about it until now, after listening to your caller, and then it just came back.”
“And the police never asked you anything?” Lucas was having a hard time buying this story, that this guy saw Candace and then talked to her and never said anything to the police. “Did you ever talk to them?”
“I never even heard about what happened, I mean I heard she was dead, but no details, and it wasn’t something that we really talked about. It happened off campus, and it was awful, but you know, finals were coming up and stuff.” He paused. “That sounds callous.”
Regan said, “I understand what you’re saying. Did the police issue any kind of blanket statement? Asking for anyone to come forward?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. I didn’t hear about it.”
Lucas said, “The university sent out a campus-wide email Monday after Candace’s body was found, notifying the students that she had been found dead and the police were investigating. It said if you had any information about Candace’s disappearance, to contact FPD. That was it.”
“I didn’t even see that,” the caller said. “But I don’t read most of the campus emails. There’s a lot of junk in there.”
Regan remembered that was true—she got dozens of emails a week from the university on her school email, and most of the time she ignored them.
The caller didn’t have any other information, so Lucas wrapped up the call and, because Lizzy was frantically indicating to him that they had gone over their time, said, “We’ve learned a lot about Candace Swain tonight. Please dig into your memories and think about where you were the week she was killed. Did you see her on campus? In the library or her sorority or somewhere else, like our caller who saw her in Kingman? No matter how small a detail, if you saw Candace Swain, please call in. I’ll be back Friday at seven.”
Forty-five minutes later, Lucas and Lizzy were done with the technical end of editing and uploading the audio. Lizzy asked, “Wanna grab some food?”
“I would,” Lucas said, “but I invited Regan over to show her what I have on the case. Maybe she’ll see something I haven’t.”
“Good idea, because you stare at your walls too much.”
Lizzy said goodbye to both of them and left.
“Ready?” Regan asked.
“Do you mind driving? I took the bus here, but I don’t live too far. Like, two miles, on the other side of downtown.”
“No problem.”
He locked up the studio, and they left the building. Regan was parked in visitor parking. Out of habit, she glanced around, assessing the people and cars in the area. Nothing suspicious jumped out at her, and she hit her key fob.
“Nice truck,” Lucas said, climbing into the passenger side.
“Thanks. Address?”
He rattled it off, and she put it into her phone’s GPS and hit Go to navigate. It wasn’t far, six minutes. She backed out of the space and said, “You don’t seem to be happy with what we learned.”
“It’s good information, but we’re missing too many details, too many days. Lizzy showed me twenty-three emails that came in, basically telling me to go to hell.”
Regan glanced into her rearview mirror. Someone had pulled in close behind her when she exited the university onto the main road, their lights bright. She adjusted the mirror.
“Do you think the guy who called in was Richie Traverton?” Lucas asked.