Chrissy said, “Candy would never, never, never disappear. Not without telling someone. Not without telling me. We were close. We talked every week. I...I blame myself. I should have known something was wrong when she didn’t call me on Sunday. I had a meet and didn’t get back to my dorm until late and just didn’t think about it... I keep thinking if I reached out, if I had talked to her, this wouldn’t have happened.”
Lucas said, “No one has come forward stating that they saw Candace after the Spring Fling party. Her car was found in the Mountain View parking garage, dedicated parking for the sororities, on Tuesday morning—but no one could verify how long it had been there. She didn’t go to any classes, she didn’t volunteer at Sunrise Center, and she didn’t contact anyone—at least, no one has come forward. The missing-person investigation became a homicide investigation on Sunday, April 19, when Candace’s body was found in Hope Springs Lake.”
Lucas continued. “The Spring Fling is the last time anyone saw Candace alive. Were you there? Call in and tell me. Did you see Candace? What was her disposition? Did you see her leaving? Was she with anyone?”
John interrupted. “Those are all questions the police would have asked.”
“Shh,” Regan whispered.
“According to media reports that came out the week Candace was missing,” Lucas said, “the police were looking for a homeless transient named Joseph Abernathy because of accusations by the sorority—not just Sigma Rho, but several other sororities that shared the Mountain View dorms—that Abernathy had been hanging around the dorm harassing the women and making them uncomfortable. According to the NAUPD crime reports, campus police removed an unnamed homeless man twice, once for loitering and once for public urination.
“If you were at the party, did you see Mr. Abernathy or anyone who fits his description? He is described in the press as an ‘unkempt forty-eight-year-old transient with long graying dark hair and untrimmed beard.’ He is six feet four inches tall and approximately one hundred eighty pounds.”
Lucas paused, as if waiting to take a call, but there was no call, and he continued. “Taylor James, the Sigma Rho president, told police that Candace had confronted Joseph Abernathy outside the dorm at the beginning of the party and asked him to leave. According to Taylor, their later argument was in part about whether they should have called the police on him. Adam Carroll, the community relations officer for NAUPD, explains what students should do in these situations.”
A male voice came on. “Our department recommends that if anyone on campus makes you uncomfortable, to call the office or use one of the blue-light emergency phones that have a direct line to our dispatch. One of the strengths of NAU is that we are an open campus in the middle of town, and we welcome community members to share our resources and trails and to attend our concerts and sporting events. But this can also become a drawback because some people don’t obey the rules. It is better to be safe and contact us than try and deal with a potentially violent individual on your own.”
Lucas said, “Officer Carroll also confirmed, because NAUPD makes all reports public, that there had been multiple complaints about Mr. Abernathy, and after the last time he was removed, he was told he would be arrested if he returned.
“We need your help to retrace Candace Swain’s steps. She disappeared Friday night, just after midnight, at the Spring Fling party three years ago. She was last seen talking to Taylor James when she walked off, apparently angry. Did you see her that night? Did you see Candace at any time in the days before her body was found? Did you see her Sunday night, late, in the dorms when her card key was used? Call in and share what you know.”
Chrissy’s voice came back on. “I just want to know what happened to my sister. I want to know who killed her. I want to know why.”
Lucas said, “If we can re-create Candace Swain’s steps, we might just solve the Sorority Murder.”
Five
“What do you think?” Regan asked her dad when the first episode ended.
“I think he’s playing Hardy Boys and is going to ruffle a lot of feathers for no reason.” John rose from his seat and stretched.
“It is a cold case,” Regan reminded him. “Three years. Maybe some feathers need to be ruffled.”
Her dad grunted. He didn’t agree or disagree with her, he wanted more information. But he was curious. Just like she was.
“Nightcap?” he asked.
“Sure.” As her dad walked behind his small bar and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, she asked, “You didn’t hear about this last week when he aired the first episode?”
She remembered when her dad and her older brother had built the bar between the kitchen and the family room. It had ended up being a central gathering place when the family got together.
“No one mentioned it to me, and I don’t think I’ve listened to a podcast in my life.”
“He told me earlier today that he has evidence she didn’t drown in the lake. I’m surprised he didn’t share that on his podcast.”
“He has evidence? That he didn’t turn over to police?”
She shook her head. “He read the autopsy report, and because he’s a forensics student, he understood that the water in her lungs was heavily chlorinated. The lake is not.”
“Then, the police know that and are investigating accordingly.”
“Maybe.”
Her father handed her the JD over ice. “Maybe. You know how these things work.”
“After three years it seems the police are stuck. Maybe this podcast can jump-start the investigation and solve Candace’s murder, give closure to the family. Her sister is cooperating.”
Her dad didn’t comment. He wouldn’t be easily swayed, but he was a fair man.
“Ready for the cobbler? It’s good,” he said.
“I can get it.”
“No, go ahead, start the next episode, I’ll dish you up a bowl.”