“I trust you, Regan. Whatever you think is best.”
She wished she knew, because something wasn’t adding up.
“Let’s talk to Kimberly Foster.”
Lucas glanced at her sheepishly.
“What?” she pushed.
“I left a message for her. She hasn’t called me back.”
“Okay. Let’s try again. This time, tell her we have a witness to the argument between Taylor and Candace, we know that she was there, and the argument wasn’t solely about Joseph Abernathy. Call us back, or we’re going to bring the witness on the podcast.”
“Are we?”
“No—unless Alexa calls in, which I doubt. She’ll be listening, especially after we confronted her today. She has my card. I’m hoping she’ll call me. If we can figure out who Candace visited that weekend, anyone can. She’s going to realize that. Fear might convince her to talk when in the past it had her remain silent.”
“You’re smarter than average. Maybe no one else will put it together.”
“We can’t assume that no one else can figure it out, especially after the podcast tonight. And neither can Alexa. She knows what Candace planned to do when she disappeared. If we have that information, we might learn who had cause to kill her.”
“How are you going to get Alexa to talk? To either call in or call you?”
“She needs to feel safe enough to trust me,” Regan said. “Perhaps I could talk on the podcast tonight about witness protection or tells stories of people who stepped up to do the right thing even though it put them and their family in danger, and what the US Marshals Service does to help them.”
“Like, put Alexa into witness protection?”
“I don’t know if that would be an option. It depends on what she knows and how much physical danger she would be in if she were needed to testify.”
Regan continued. “We lead with the Taylor James overdose. An article about it was published in the paper. It’s brief, but we can start there. I’ll call the sheriff’s office, see if the Merritt name can get us more information. We shouldn’t connect it directly to Candace or posit any theories about murder or suicide. I’m thinking something like how violence impacts people in different ways. How Taylor, Candace’s good friend, former roommate, changed after Candace was killed, how she started doing drugs, barely passed her classes—violence affects more than the victim.”
Lucas didn’t say anything, but a cloud crossed his face, and his eyes watered.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine. Sorry. Just thinking.”
Come on, Lucas. I know you’re hiding something… What is it?
“Lucas, did you lose someone?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t, not really, but my high-school girlfriend did. When we were sophomores in high school, her older sister went missing while driving back from college. They found her car but not her body. Her family doesn’t know what happened to her.”
“Let me guess. She was here, at NAU.”
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me that at the beginning?” It made so much sense now why he was borderline obsessed with Candace Swain’s disappearance. It was very similar to his sweetheart’s sister.
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Everything is important.”
But he didn’t say anything more about it. “We should go,” he said. “It’s nearly six.”
Thirty-Three
Five minutes into Lucas’s recap at the start of the podcast, Lizzy sent him a text that they had more than one thousand people streaming the show, more than twice as many as they had the last episode. They had also more than tripled the number of podcast subscribers.
After repeating the known facts of Candace’s murder, Lucas said, “Tragedy struck the Sigma Rho sorority again this week. Taylor James, Candace’s onetime roommate and sorority sister, died of an apparent drug overdose late Wednesday night.” Lucas read the press report of Taylor’s death, which didn’t give much detail. “Regan, when we were talking earlier, you said that violence creates more than one victim. Can you expand on that?”
“Whenever someone is killed, they are not the only victim. Candace was a sister—to Chrissy Swain as well as to the Sigma Rho sorority. She was a daughter, a friend, a student, a colleague. When Candace was killed, others were hurt—grieving, in pain, unable to find solace that justice was served because Candace’s killer was never caught.