I am too scared to come forward because I can’t prove anything.
I will not call in to your podcast because someone might recognize my voice. I’ve gone back and forth about even contacting you this way. Sometimes it’s not as easy as it might seem to know what to do or even what’s right or wrong.
Honestly, I’m scared. Because the person who killed Candace is still out there.
But mostly, I want justice for my friend. I want the truth to come out. I hope this helps.
The letter ended there. No marks on the folded note, which was typed and printed on a standard laser printer. No address, no stamp.
Regan sat at Lucas’s desk and took a picture of the note with her phone and then studied it more closely. Lucas paced his small bedroom.
“What do you think?” Lucas asked. “We have to find Kimberly Foster, right?”
“Where did you find this?”
“At the studio. It was left under the door with my name on it.”
The communications building wasn’t locked during the day, but whoever left it was familiar with the campus. A student or alumni. Someone most likely local, since the note hadn’t been sent through the mail.
Regan looked at the list of Sigma Rho sisters that Lucas had posted on his wall, ranked by graduation year. Kimberly Foster was two years older than Candace.
The anonymous letter writer didn’t say she was in the sorority, but if she were, she was in the class that graduated the year after Kim and before Taylor.
Regan read the letter again.
Maybe you’ll expose the truth.
Expose? That implied the writer knew what hidden truth there was to be found.
Regan reread the letter again, trying to get inside the head of the author.
Female. Men would have been at the party but the letter sounded female.
Scared. She knew something—and hadn’t told the police. Had the police questioned her? Regan didn’t know. She had been an alum, and unless the police were given the guest list, the police might not have known to interview her.
Not only did this person know something crucial about this case, the writer felt that her knowledge endangered her. The tone suggested that she felt threatened. Murder was the ultimate threat.
Could Candace’s murder itself be a threat to others to keep their mouths shut? About what?
Talk, and you’ll end up like Candace.
“Regan?” Lucas said. “What are you thinking? It sounds like this letter writer knows more than what’s on the page.”
“She does,” Regan said. “And so does Taylor.” She told Lucas how her conversation had gone. “I want to go back and confront her, but I don’t know if that’s the best approach, at least not until we have more information. I’m hoping after our conversation that she’ll listen to the podcast—if she hasn’t already—and call in. Or be more honest when I talk to her again.”
“You’ll be there on Friday again, right?” Lucas said.
“Yes, I said I would.” She’d become as invested in solving Candace’s murder as Lucas.
“Because,” Lucas continued, “if Taylor does call in, I have no idea how to get her to talk.”
“If she calls in it’s because she wants to talk,” Regan said. “And that means we need to ask open-ended questions, get her to tell us more than she plans to. She knows something she didn’t want to tell me. It could be innocuous—or it could be answers we need.”
“I looked up the other sorority sisters Annie mentioned in your conversation,” Lucas said. He flipped through a notebook on his desk. “Alexa Castillo is a year older than Annie, and I couldn’t find anything on her. Castillo is a pretty common name, but I can’t find an Alexa or Alexandra or Alexis who graduated from NAU in the last four years on social media, but I kept it narrowed to Arizona. Maybe I should expand it. The sororities all have online newsletters and webpages, but the newsletters are archived as PDFs so I have to click on each one before I can search for a name. But I think it’s worth doing because they often post updates on graduates. I’ll start in on it tonight and look for Alexa Castillo and Kimberly Foster.”
“Good,” Regan said.
“I called Chrissy to ask about Candace’s journal, but she didn’t answer. She’s pretty good about calling me back. I’ll text you if she has any information.”
“On Friday, for your next podcast episode, I think you should push the report from the witness who saw Candace leaving the library on Tuesday morning. You can even replay a clip of that, right? To remind people? That might generate other viable calls. And whoever wrote this letter—they say they don’t want to call, but there’s no reason you can’t read the letter on air. It could spur someone else to call.”
“That’s a great idea,” Lucas said, making a note.
“I’ll see what I can find out from Rachel Wagner, the advisor. Maybe convince her to be interviewed, since she knew Candace.”
“That would be great.”
“Don’t hold your breath, but it’s worth pursuing.” She glanced at her watch.
“You have to go?”
“In a minute. But I wanted to talk to you about Detective Young.”
He rolled his eyes.
“You said he wasn’t forthcoming, but you talked to the public information officer, correct?”
“Yes, got the party line. I learned more in the media reports than I did from FPD.”
“I want to talk to him. You have good information, and I want to see if he’ll share why they are so hung up on Joseph Abernathy as the killer. You also had a clip from the director of Sunrise Center. Do you think she would call in?”
“Maybe. I can reach out to her. She said to call her if I needed anything.”
“Good. You do that, I’ll talk first to Young, then Rachel Wagner, and we’ll touch base tonight. But be careful. You’re asking questions that might upset someone, and that someone killed Candace. If not Abernathy, then the murderer could still be around and listening. Watch your back, Lucas.”
Seventeen