“It’s no secret that Taylor James suffered after Candace was killed. Losing a friend is always difficult. Losing a friend to violence can be worse. It’s sudden, it’s tragic, it’s often emotionally painful. Taylor turned to alcohol and drugs. She went through rehab. She was putting her life together…and unfortunately, as with many people who suffer with addiction, she fell off the wagon.” Regan didn’t know if that was true, but a friend of hers in the sheriff’s department said they were ruling it an accidental overdose, pending investigation. “Her death is still being investigated,” she continued. “The police will determine if it was accidental, on purpose, or if someone contributed to her overdose.” She stopped short of saying killed her. “What often makes such a tragedy worse—for friends and family—is not knowing the truth. Of justice not being served. You have a personal experience with this, don’t you, Lucas?”
Lucas stared at her, shocked that she had brought it up. What was he going to say?
“I think,” she said, “that if you share why you are personally invested in Candace’s disappearance and murder, your listeners will respond accordingly.”
Lucas quickly recovered and said, “My girlfriend in high school—we were friends for years, since first grade. Anyway, her older sister disappeared driving back from NAU during winter break. It really tore up her family. You’re right—not knowing what happened to Adele was worse for them in some ways. I mean, not worse than losing her, but there was no closure. They still don’t know what happened to her.”
“How long ago was that?”
“A little over six years.”
“Why didn’t you decide to do your podcast on that case?”
What did he say to that? “I don’t know. I think maybe because Adele had been a freshman and didn’t know many people, and Candace was a senior, in a sorority, popular, friendly. I thought it might make for a more interesting podcast.”
“I see your point,” Regan said.
“I was also too close to that case, and to the family. Adele went missing while driving. Her car was found in New Mexico. Candace Swain went missing from campus, so it felt more immediate, relatable to students here. Candace was part of a sorority, but Adele hadn’t made many friends. In addition, the circumstances of Candace’s disappearance and murder were both different and compelling. There were no witnesses to Adele’s disappearance, but there were several people who saw Candace the night she disappeared.”
“That makes sense,” Regan said.
Lucas was relieved he didn’t have to expand further. He wasn’t ready to talk about Adele. Just mentioning her and Candace in the same conversation had him squirming. He could practically feel the picture burning a hole through his backpack across the room—the physical proof that Candace and Taylor had known Adele. That they had been friends.
When Lucas had talked about Adele with Candace, she had flipped. Her reaction made Lucas suspicious. But until he found the photo, he didn’t have any hard proof that they were friends. Now that he had it, he didn’t know what to do with it.
Regan was staring at him. “Lucas,” she said, “I think we have a caller.”
He didn’t realize that Regan had been talking about witness statements and reliability; he’d zoned out.
“Sorry. Brain freeze,” he said and gave a little laugh. She looked at him oddly, so he turned away, glanced at Lizzy through the glass. She put up two fingers, and he pressed the second line on the studio phone.
“Hello, this is Lucas Vega with Regan Merritt talking about the reliability of witnesses. Do you have a comment?”
“Well, I’m sorry about your friend who went missing,” a female voice of indeterminate age said. “But really, is bringing all this up again helpful? That poor girl overdosed. Don’t you think that maybe your podcast had something to do with that? That you’re dredging up this tragedy and reminding Candace’s friends what happened? Maybe Ms. James couldn’t take it. Depression and drugs don’t mix.”
“I don’t know that Ms. James’s personal problems can be connected to a true-crime podcast,” Lucas said.
“Really? Well, if you think that, then maybe you’re not all that sensitive to other people’s situations. How do you think you’d feel if someone started dragging your friend’s name through the mud? If they started talking about it and making you feel sad again? You’re insensitive and sensational, throwing far-fetched theories out there. You have no idea what you’re doing, other than hurting people. It’s borderline evil.”