“You’ve lost me.”
Regan couldn’t betray Alexa’s confidence, but she felt she should share part of what they’d learned with Candace’s sister. Lucas didn’t want to say anything, so Regan spoke vaguely of their theory. “We believe that Candace was aware of a crime and wrote in her journal about it. She wanted to go to the police, her friends didn’t, and that may have been the reason she was killed.”
“Oh, God, that...that would be awful. You think someone she knew killed her? Someone she trusted?”
“It’s possible. So if the journal is here, we need to find it,” Regan said.
“What do you need from me?” Chrissy asked.
“You knew Candace better than anyone. We need to make a list of her interests, favorite books, anything that we can use to narrow down our search. I’ll start,” Regan said. “My contact said that Candace was in the library researching gold mines in Payson. So books about Payson, Payson history, and gold mines should be on the list.”
“Right. Okay,” Chrissy said, “her favorite book in high school was To Kill a Mockingbird. She read it like a hundred times.”
Regan thought that book would be too small to hide a journal in, plus it could easily be checked out for a class or used in research. But she wrote it down. “What were some of her other favorite books?”
Chrissy gave them a list of popular YA fiction. “She was a nursing student, so anything related to that.”
Together, they brainstormed and came up with a detailed list of possible books Candace would have used to hide her journal.
Lucas promised to let Chrissy know if they found it, and they ended the call. Lizzy ran in. “Oh my God, Lucas, Nicole Bergamo is in the hospital. In a coma.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Someone posted it on social media. Last night her roommate, Vicky Ryan, found her unconscious and not breathing. People are speculating an attempted suicide. Her parents are coming in from Washington, and Vicky is at the hospital with her.”
Suicide seemed unlikely. Regan asked Lizzy, “When you talked to her, did she say anything that made you think she was suicidal?”
“No. Nicole is one of the nicest, happiest people I know.”
That didn’t necessarily mean she didn’t have problems, and mental-health issues were sometimes not easy to identify.
Lizzy continued. “Nicole is the one who called in last night. I disguised her voice like I promised. What if she knows more? And she never identified the person who told her not to go to the police, who told her she was wrong about the truck.”
“Lucas, you and Lizzy start looking for the journal. I’m going to make a call.”
They left the room, and Regan called her dad. He hadn’t started his golf game yet.
“Dad, I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
“One of the Sigma Rho sorority girls is in the hospital, in a coma, found unconscious last night. She was the disguised voice on the podcast. I’m worried about her safety.”
“I’ll talk to the hospital, get security on the door, at least for twenty-four hours. Is that good?”
“Yes, thank you.” She ended the call.
Ten minutes later, as Regan was looking through the Payson history books, Lucas texted her.
I found it.
The three of them met back in the study room. Lucas had found Candace’s journal in the middle of a hollowed-out book about Fanny Durack, the first female Olympic swimming champion.
Heads together, they read through the journal, and Regan immediately identified the tipping point. It started with Lucas, but it ended with indifference.
From the Journal of Candace Swain
Kim and Taylor were laughing Friday night.
Kim is doing great. She has an amazing new job as media rep for a pharmaceutical company. Taylor always admired her. And all I could think about was that Adele wanted a future, too. That she wanted to be a nurse and help people. And she was dead. And her family hurt. And they should know the truth.
I thought about how I would feel if it were Chrissy. If she disappeared and I didn’t know what had happened to her. I don’t think I could function. I would demand that someone do something. I would search everywhere for her. I wouldn’t rest until I knew the truth. But if Chrissy were Adele? No one would find her body. And that was it. I would be lost. Broken. And at that moment, I knew what I had to do.
I went to Kim and Taylor and told them we had to tell the truth. We had to at least tell Adele’s family. If they didn’t want to go to the police, maybe an anonymous letter—tell them where she was buried. Kim said no, but then we talked, and she said she would consider it if we went to a lawyer first, to protect us. I didn’t care about that! But I wanted Kim on my side, so I agreed. Taylor wanted none of it, and then Rachel came over and Taylor told her everything we’d discussed. Rachel was livid, told us we would be in serious trouble but she would be the one in jail. And if we wanted her in prison, go ahead.
Then Kim faltered. We had to remain silent. No anonymous letter, no going to the police, no anything. It had been an accident, she didn’t want anyone to get in trouble, or worse.
I’d once admired Kim. I’d once loved Taylor like a sister. And they both turned on me, because of Rachel. For the first time I saw Rachel’s true face.
She gloated. I could see it in her expression, the way her eyes looked into mine silently saying, I won. She didn’t care about any of us. She only cared about herself. How could I have not seen the truth for the last three and a half years? How could I have trusted Rachel and not realized she is a monster?
I have to find answers.
But I’m scared, too.
I’m on my own.
No one wants to tell the truth.
I’m heartbroken.