She navigated away from that section. She couldn’t give in to it, couldn’t let the poisonous thoughts of others seep inside her head. She clicked the mouse a few times with her right hand and grabbed a couple of carrots with her left. Advanced multitasking, she and Jared called it. Eating while using the computer.
And then there was an entire thread devoted to the earring being found. New messages popped up in that thread every few seconds. The dominant theory seemed to be that Benjamin Ludlow was the guy who followed Celia. He killed her and held on to the earring until he needed the money and tried to pawn it. People called him scum, homeless, vagrant, worthless, and a hundred other names.
Jenna sat back. For a moment, just a moment, she felt a kinship with Benjamin Ludlow. He was being tried in the court of the Internet. A message board and a group of mostly anonymous posters as judge, jury, and executioner.
Hell, she’d judged him the same way based on how he’d acted in high school.
The private message icon lit up and dinged.
The site allowed any two registered members who were active at the same time to carry on their own conversation in private. Jenna suspected she knew who it would be. She experienced a mixture of dread and anticipation as she clicked the chat icon.
Just as she expected, it was Domino55.
Haven’t “seen” you in a while, Domino55 wrote.
I’ve been busy. Work and other things.
I hear you.
Domino55 reached out to Jenna, or Polly, from time to time. He—she assumed Domino was a he—liked to ask probing questions about Celia’s case, both on the public board and in their private conversations. He appeared to be one of the most informed posters, someone who absorbed every new tidbit of information that was made public and then used that knowledge to spin out ever more elaborate but still plausible theories. They often lacked consistency. If they contradicted one another, so be it. Domino didn’t appear to care. He seemed more interested in playing the role of provocateur, a guy trying on a lot of different poses just to see if any of them stuck.
About once a week, he sent Jenna a private message. He liked to try some of his theories out on her in private before he took them public. Jenna didn’t know if she was the only person he spoke to in this way. She suspected she wasn’t. Domino needed an audience, and one person didn’t add up to an audience.
Ten days ago they’d chatted. Domino’s words felt more pointed that time, more probing. He started asking Jenna what part of the country she lived in and where her interest in Celia’s case came from. When Jenna kept her answers vague or avoided engagement altogether, Domino told her he thought she was really close to the case, might even be a good friend or relative of Celia’s. Jenna left the conversation, vowing to avoid the message boards. But she couldn’t stay away. She liked, almost needed, the conversations and contact with other people who wanted to talk about the case.
That Reena is a hack, isn’t she?
Sure, Jenna wrote. I never liked her show.
That stuff with the deer bones was insane.
Yes.
A ridiculous stunt.
Yes.
Jenna waited, but Domino wasn’t writing anything else. The icon showed he was still there, still active, but no words came.
She chewed some more carrots, biting down and feeling the cold crunch against her teeth. She paused once, listening behind her, trying to see if Jared was up. The house remained silent except for the soft hum of the computer and her own crunching. One good thing about being single, she thought, no need to worry about chewing in a ladylike fashion. She crunched and crunched without worrying about the noise.
What do you think happened to Celia?
The directness of the question caught Jenna off guard. In her mind, she knew what happened. She couldn’t contemplate anything else.
She was taken, she wrote. A crazy person. A killer.
No immediate response came, so Jenna added. Another woman just disappeared in the same area. Could be a connection.
Holly Crenshaw.
Yes.
Could be connected. A brief pause. Likely a coincidence.
Jenna took the bait. She knew he wanted a response, knew he sought the reaction on the other end. But she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted to know what Domino was thinking.
Why do you seem so certain?
Another long pause, one that stretched so far Jenna started to think Domino had given up, withdrawn as he so often did when the conversation grew complicated.
You should know. You knew her well.
Jenna gasped.
What do you mean? Jenna typed.
You were there. I mean, you were almost there when it happened. A pause. Jenna.
Jenna stood up, the motion of her rising body knocking the chair backward and away, where it banged against the closet behind her. Her body heaved as if she’d just run a mile.
He knows who I am. Really.
She thought of the crank phone calls. Not the ones that took her to task for cursing on TV or for simply being late the night Celia disappeared. Other ones came during the previous months. Pointed questions asking Jenna why she’d been late that night. They didn’t always sound like the same man. She felt certain they weren’t. But could one of them be this guy, Domino55?