She understood more than she wanted to. She had accepted that she might lose her dad in the line of duty. She’d accepted that she might lose her own life in the line of duty. She had never conceived of losing her son.
She still didn’t know how to accept it. She could face the truth: Chase was dead. But accepting the facts was a world different than accepting that she would never hold her son again, watch him play ball, hear his laugh.
Raul called over to her. “Young is coming out.”
She breathed deeply, controlled her emotions, turned to face her friend. “Thank you.”
Five minutes later, a man she suspected was Steven Young turned down the hall and walked toward the lobby. He was tall with dark eyes. Late thirties, early forties. Well-dressed. He wore black-framed eyeglasses and a gun in his shoulder holster.
“Merritt?” he said.
“Detective.” She extended her hand. He hesitated, then shook it.
“Follow me.”
He knew why she was here. His poker face was good, but the tension in his grip revealed him.
She followed him down the hall to a small conference room, the first on the right, and he motioned for her to sit, which she did. He closed the door and sat across from her.
“You know why I’m here,” she said.
“I listened to Vega’s podcast,” he said.
That didn’t surprise her. If she were in the same position, she would have listened as well.
When she didn’t say anything, he added, “I was surprised that a former US Marshal would participate in something like that.”
“Like what?”
He frowned, leaned back. Assessed her. “A sensational program like that podcast.”
“My former advisor from NAU asked me to talk to Lucas. I was intrigued by his program so agreed to be interviewed.”
“I wish you had talked to me first.”
“I’m no longer in law enforcement,” she said, which should explain why she felt no need to go to local cops for permission to talk about a cold case. “I know Lucas talked to you at one point.”
“Lucas Vega is a smart, stubborn, angry young man. Emphasis on young. I don’t know what he told you about his conversation with me, but he essentially accused me of being lazy and not caring about the victim. He threw information I already knew at me and demanded I answer his questions. I showed him the door. Why are you helping him?”
Carefully, she said, “I’ve become invested in this case, primarily because it’s attached to my alma mater. Lucas’s quest to retrace Candace Swain’s steps from when she left Sigma Rho until she was found dead is a viable approach.”
“Most of the people who knew Candace are no longer around campus. Maybe a dozen or so are still in the sorority.”
She nodded. “If you listened to the podcast, you know several people have come forward with sightings of the victim during the week she was supposedly missing.”
Young said, “I can’t take as statements people remembering—possibly remembering—something that happened three years ago, through a podcast. There is no way I can verify that they are remembering the correct day. And why would the person who claimed to have seen her at the library not have come forward? All security footage is erased after thirty days, unless campus police flag it. There’s no way to verify that information. She could be making it up.”
“She may not have thought about it at the time, or not have known Candace was missing. She wasn’t in a sorority, and most people on campus were in the dark until after Candace was killed. Also, in my experience, people rarely come forward. They have to be asked.”
“Do you think I didn’t do my job?”
He was antagonistic, for no reason. “I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He scowled. “I’ll tell you this, Ms. Merritt. If my department had had the case from the beginning, it would have been handled differently. The campus police were out of their element and should have called us in right away, but they didn’t know what they were dealing with. I don’t blame them—as soon as she was missing for more than forty-eight hours, they called us in, plus the sheriff’s department and the troopers. Every agency was looking for her by that Wednesday afternoon. Once it became a homicide investigation, I got involved. Though campus police did basic work—talked to Sigma Rho, Candace’s family, her professors—it wasn’t treated as a serious investigation until she was found dead. Then my team talked to everyone again. I don’t have to tell you that memories fade over a week. Can you imagine what three years does to them?”