“We’re so excited that you agreed to come in,” Lizzy said with a grin, revealing deep dimples. “I’m Lucas’s producer, I guess you can say. I handle the recording, the live cast, editing, taking calls, the whole nine yards. I even convinced my advisor to give me a credit for the work as part of an independent-study project.” She laughed. “Not that I need it, but it’s nice to have the points, you know?”
“Slight change of plans,” Lucas said. “I’m going to read an email I got last night, and Regan is going to help frame the questions. If we don’t get immediate calls, then I’ll interview her about missing-persons cases as I planned, and specifically how to handle witnesses. I’m hoping having someone of her caliber in the studio will make people feel more comfortable calling in. But I also want to cut in with the second part of the interview with Chrissy, what she says after I tell her about the forensics report.”
“Tugging on heartstrings,” Lizzy said.
“Chrissy wants to help,” Lucas said. “She knows what I’m trying to do here.”
“I was kinda joking. But it is emotional for her. That plays on the tape. I’ll have it cued up for you, just give me the signal.”
Lucas motioned for Regan to follow him into a soundproof booth. Lizzy was on the other side of thick glass with most of the controls. Lucas had his laptop, plus on the table was a multiline telephone and speaker that went into the producer’s booth. Two comfortable chairs were positioned in front of the hanging mic.
“Lizzy had never done this before, but she learned everything practically overnight,” he said. “I couldn’t do this without her.”
“Good friends are hard to come by,” Regan said. She thought of Jessie, who would do anything for her. And likewise.
Lucas pulled two semicold water bottles from his backpack, put one in front of her. “I’ll introduce you first, ask a bit about US Marshals, then why I asked you to join me, then I’ll read the email, okay?” He opened his laptop and turned a page to her. “I’m going to read this by way of introduction. Good?”
She skimmed the brief bio. “Yes, perfect. Slick to mention my dad.”
“Yeah, well, anything I can do to command authority, or whatever it is that people are waiting for before they call. And I know they’re out there.”
Lucas and Lizzy tested all the equipment, then she started the countdown. The on-air light came on above the door, which they could see through the booth. Lizzy controlled the music lead-in, then Lucas took over. He gave a brief summary of the last two episodes then said, “With me tonight is NAU alum and former US Marshal Regan Merritt. Regan majored in criminal justice and psychology. She follows a long line of law enforcement—her grandfather was a forest ranger in Kaibab, her father was the elected sheriff of Coconino County for sixteen years before retiring three years ago, and her brother is a deputy sheriff for Maricopa County. The last six of her thirteen years in the Marshals Service she served as part of the Fugitive Apprehension Unit.”
He explained what the Marshals Service did, then said, “I planned on asking Regan questions about missing persons and witness recollection, and I will do that later in the episode, but first I want to read an email I received from someone who signed it A Concerned Sister. She chose to come forward after hearing our caller on Friday.”
He read the key part of the email, leaving out the comment about the sorority protecting its image.
“I saw Candace driving like a bat out of hell into Mountain View parking. It was around ten at night, two days after the party, Sunday night, and she almost hit me. I don’t know if that helps you, but I’d get in trouble if I called.”
Lucas paused to let the comment sink in, then he detailed the timeline. “On Friday night, Taylor James and several other people saw Candace Swain leave the party shortly after midnight. She was angry and upset about an argument that witnesses state was critical of her for not calling the police about the presence of Joseph Abernathy on campus.
“On Sunday afternoon, Candace was seen in Kingman, Arizona, by a student, at approximately three o’clock. She was in her blue Volkswagen. On Sunday night around ten p.m., Candace was seen in the same vehicle driving into the Mountain View parking garage, which is dedicated to the sorority dorm. Her card key was used to access the dorm at 11:10 p.m., but no one saw her enter or exit. On Monday afternoon, her phone was found on the charger by her roommate after she couldn’t reach Candace. Her vehicle was found in the parking garage on Tuesday morning. There’s no indication as to how long it was there.
“According to the autopsy report, Candace was alive and well almost the entire time she was missing—no signs of captivity, malnutrition, or dehydration that might indicate that she had been kept against her will for any length of time. She was killed between ten and one Saturday night, a full week after the party, and her body was found early the next morning, Sunday, in Hope Springs Lake. People rarely disappear into thin air, and I believe there are more people out there who saw Candace. One reason I asked Ms. Merritt to join me this evening is because of her experience interviewing witnesses. Ms. Merritt, after three years do you think that the information from the caller on Friday and the email my podcast received last night are valid? Do you think they remembered the information accurately?”
“Yes. People often attach memories to specific events, and those are more reliable than, for example, a witness to a bank robbery giving an accurate description of a suspect. Because the caller had mentally attached her sister’s birthday—a fixed date—to her memory, I would rank the memory as valid.”
“And the email?”
“I put some credence on the email. However, I would want to ask the writer follow-up questions. How does she know it was a Sunday night? She says it was at ten o’clock. That means it was dark. How can she be accurate about the time and day three years later? If it was dark, how could she be certain it was Candace’s car? A jolt of fear can etch a memory—such as almost being hit by a car—but if she was angry or fearful, did she mention the event to anyone? Did she see Candace exit the parking garage or enter the dorm? We can assume that she didn’t know that Candace was missing—no one reported it until Monday afternoon.”