Abernathy either had seen something suspicious and was killed because of it, or he was killed to frame him for Candace’s murder.
That wasn’t the work of selfish Taylor James or needy Vicky Ryan or conceited Kimberly Foster. That was the work of a sociopath, someone who would do or say anything to avoid getting in trouble for her actions.
It was the work of Rachel Wagner. Regan would bet her life on it.
When she was done copying the journal, she went back to the study room and said to Lucas and Lizzy, “I’m going to take the original to Henry Clarkson for safekeeping and bring the copy to the chief of police. Young has a conflict, but he might be able to fill in blanks. And I can’t see him defending Rachel, not when confronted with overwhelming circumstantial evidence of her guilt.”
They were on the clock: if Nicole regained consciousness, she might identify Rachel. Rachel could run. If she hadn’t already.
If she ran, Regan would find her.
“What about the letter to the Overtons?” Lucas asked.
“I didn’t open it. I kept it in the journal. The police have to make that decision as part of their investigation. Eventually, the family will get it.”
Lizzy said, “I’m leading a study group with my math dummies after lunch, but I can cancel if you need me.”
“Go,” Lucas said.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll call you and maybe come over after, okay?”
“That’d be great.”
Lizzy gave him a quick kiss, waved to Regan, and left. He looked after her. “Is she in danger?”
“I think she’s fine. It’s you I’m worried about. You started this, and if Rachel sees her carefully constructed lies crumbling around her, she might lash out.”
Regan had majored in psychology, but she hadn’t spent enough time with Rachel to fully assess her. She was smart—as evidenced by her career path. She was articulate and cultured. She looked younger than her age and envisioned herself as the friend and protector of the Sigma Rho sorority. She wanted to be their confidante, their best friend. Regan would bet her savings that Rachel loved when the girls came to her with their problems so she could “guide” them. She wanted to be back in the sorority. She didn’t want to grow older—she was Regan’s age, thirty-five, but spent her entire life with college students. Not married. She dated a cop of the same age, but for how long? Was it serious? Had she started dating him because of his investigation? Had she misled him?
Regan remembered that Rachel’s office was filled with mementos of her own college years. Of her sorority and cheerleading and other activities. Nothing about NAU or what she’d done here for nearly seven years. Interesting...and telling. She missed it. Whatever she’d had in Tucson, she wanted it back.
And then the odd conversation yesterday. Rachel had implied that Taylor might be guilty of hurting Candace. That was the word she’d used. In hindsight, it felt like she had been planting seeds.
Taylor was now dead, unable to defend herself—or accuse Rachel.
So many questions; Regan needed answers. At this point, she believed that Rachel valued her position, craved youth, worked with college students not to guide or educate them but because she wanted to be one of them again.
She called Henry, who informed her that he was at the hospital with her dad, and then he put her father on.
“Lucas and I are heading there now,” she told him. “We found Candace’s journal, and I want to give it to Henry for safekeeping. How’s Nicole?”
“She’s still unconscious. They believe she was poisoned with a depressant, they’re still running tests. Her central nervous system was compromised, and she hasn’t come out of the coma. They are doing everything they can—because she was found quickly and her roommate administered CPR, they think she’ll make it, but it’s iffy right now.”
“I’m going to give Henry the journal, then give a copy to the chief and Detective Young. He needs to see what’s in it. It implicates Rachel Wagner.”
“If you need my help, holler.”
“Don’t let Rachel anywhere near Nicole. I don’t think Vicky is involved, but keep an eye on her because she trusts Rachel.”
Henry met her in the hospital lobby. She gave him the original journal, then she and Lucas drove to the police station. Lucas was unusually quiet.
The chief of detectives wasn’t on duty, but the shift commander, Olivia Gomez, met with Regan and Lucas in her small office.
Regan closed the door because she didn’t need anyone overhearing what she needed to say.
After introductions, Olivia said, “I listened to the podcast. A lot of people are talking about it.”
“Did you listen to last night’s episode?”
“Not yet, but Steven sent me a note that there is a potential witness who saw Candace in a truck the week she was missing—a truck that belonged to Sunrise Center.”
“Yes. The person who made that call asked that her voice be disguised. She’s now in the hospital, in a coma, with a suspected poisoning.”
“I haven’t seen that report.”
“It happened late last night. I don’t know the details, but I asked John Merritt to keep an eye out.”
“The former sheriff?”
“My father.”
“I figured.”
Regan handed Olivia the copy she’d made of the journal. “This is a copy of Candace Swain’s journal. Lucas found it in the library, hidden in a hollowed-out book. We knew to look there because Candace had told a friend that she needed to hide her journal because she was afraid it would be destroyed. I wanted to talk to Detective Young, but not alone. I learned this week that he’s involved with Rachel Wagner, the advisor to Sigma Rho and a professor at the university.”