“This might be it.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she told him, “but it’s a good lead.”
When Regan drove to the campus, she kept looking up at the gray sky. Yep, it was going to rain. Not a little drizzle like earlier in the week but a hard, pounding rain that might last most of the weekend. By the time she arrived at campus ten minutes later, the first raindrop fell.
She pulled on the hood of her Gore-Tex jacket. She loved the rain and didn’t mind getting wet, but she didn’t relish the idea of sitting around damp for the rest of the day.
She headed directly to Rachel’s office. The door was open. She rapped on it, and Rachel looked up with a smile. Like yesterday, she was dressed both impeccably and trendy. “Thank you for coming to campus,” she said.
“It’s not out of my way.”
“Vicky will be here in a few minutes. Come in, sit. Would you like some coffee?”
“I’m good.”
Regan took off her jacket and hung it on a hook by the door, where Rachel had her own coat hanging. It was quiet, but it was Friday. Fewer classes in session, many students leaving campus for the weekend.
Rachel took a bottle of water from a minifridge under the table behind her desk, and offered one to Regan, which she declined.
“I was hoping the rain would hold off until tonight,” Rachel said. “But I did come prepared.” She laughed lightly and gestured to the umbrella next to her coatrack.
“I don’t trust the weather, especially in the mountains,” Regan said.
“I’ve learned that the hard way,” Rachel said. “I still hold out hope!”
“Anything I should know about Vicky Ryan?”
“Vicky is a wonderful young woman. She’s been accepted to a specialty program to get her nursing certification in geriatrics. After her great-grandmother died in a nursing home, she decided she wanted to change the way nursing homes are certified and run. Very strong ethics, solid foundation. She’ll go far.”
Regan nodded. Not exactly what she had been searching for, but everything she could learn about the student would help her assess the situation.
Vicky stepped inside the office. “Are you ready for me?”
“Come in,” Rachel said. “Vicky, this is former US Marshal Regan Merritt.”
“Right. You went on that ridiculous podcast.”
Vicky sat down next to Rachel, her lips a firm line, arms across her chest.
“Thank you for agreeing to talk to me.”
“I didn’t want to, to be honest. I am so angry about that podcast I could scream. I tried to get the department to shut it down, but because it’s a capstone project and already had approval from Lucas’s advisor and the CCJ department, I was stymied.”
“Why did you want to shut it down?”
“Why?” She said it in such a way as to make it seem that Regan was stupid for not knowing. “It’s triggering to most of us who knew Candace. Lucas is bringing up all these feelings of fear, uncertainty, anger. You name it. We all liked and admired Candace. She volunteered more hours than any other NAU Sigma Rho sister ever. No one will break her record, and then she was killed—it was awful.”
“You were a first-year student.”
“Yes. Why would that be relevant?”
“I’m just keeping my facts straight.”
“She was my mentor,” Vicky said. “I loved her like a blood sister, over and above being in the sorority together. I saw her that night. We organized the party together, and she taught me everything I know about event planning.” Her voice cracked and she glanced at Rachel for moral support.
“I know this is hard,” Regan acknowledged.
“I just wish that Lucas would let the police handle this, you know?”
“Generally, the police are more capable than anyone else at solving a crime, but when it comes to a cold case, the police are often at an impasse. They can’t put aside their current caseload to focus on an older case with little to no evidence.”
Rachel sighed, glanced at Vicky. “Do you have anything else to share, Vicky?”
“Only that I just heard this morning that Taylor James died of a drug overdose the other night. I can’t help but think that the podcast had something to do with that.”
“Why would you think that?” Regan asked.
“Because while I think Candace was treated fairly, I felt that Lucas was snide and accusatory toward Taylor, as if she’d lied to the police. He didn’t flat out say that, but he kept bringing her up. Their stupid argument and all that. Taylor cared about Candace, and we were all concerned about that weirdo who was hanging around. I mean, I felt bad for him, but he creeped us out. Taylor tried to get Candace to understand that he could be dangerous.”
“Did you overhear their argument?”
“Just a small part of it,” she said. “They weren’t shouting or anything, just talking emphatically. Rachel was there.”
That was the first Regan heard that Rachel had been part of the conversation.
Rachel said, “I came over to mediate. No one could get Candace to see the truth, and that’s why she walked off. I guess I never thought that man would actually hurt her. If I had, I would have done something right then, called the police myself. But he was gone, and I didn’t think he would come back.”
“Was there evidence that he returned?” Regan asked.
“I figured either he returned, or Candace went to Sunrise Center and something happened there,” Rachel said. “When the police told me she’d been alive during the time she was missing, I was surprised, and I understand why Lucas thinks that seems suspicious, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for it.”
There was, but they didn’t know it, and that these women weren’t more curious surprised her.
Not everyone is compelled to find justice.