Page 46 of Missing White Woman

“Tyler Franklin’s staying here?” This voice sounded younger than the first.

The elevator doors opened just in time. I practically leapt inside and quickly pushed the button for the ground floor, not daring to look at the pair even though they were directly in my line of sight.

“His girlfriend left that note for him,” the first attendant said.

The doors started to close. And just as I was about to let out a sigh of relief, the second woman spoke again.

“Girlfriend? Janelle Beckett can’t be here. She’s dead.”

@ABrushWithBillie TikTok

528 Following 1.9M Followers 6.5M Likes

A serious Billie Regan sits in front of the camera with the #Justice4Janelle text covering her chest. Her makeup is subtle but flawless, as if she wants to look her very best but doesn’t want you to know she does.

“Hey, Billie Bunch. I know I have that Live scheduled for later this afternoon, but I had to get this up immediately. For those new here, I’m Billie. This is my channel. Normally I do makeup tips, but lately I’ve been focused on the disappearance and now murder of one of my followers, Janelle Beckett, though the police won’t even identify her poor body.

“When I went to check my DMs for that photo of Tyler Franklin in Boston, which I promise I’ll still share, I had a message from someone else. This person and I had a nice long DM chat. And after I promised to keep their information private, they agreed to let me share what we discussed.”

A screenshot appears behind her of a DM convo. Billie’s sloppily blacked out the other person’s photo and name. The light-gray bubble reads: I was Janelle Beckett’s freshman year roommate.

There’s more to the text chain, but it’s blocked by Billie’s upper body. She speaks. “She sent me this.”

A photo’s behind her now. This one is a close-up of a much younger but smiling Janelle Beckett next to an equally skinny woman. Her face has been blurred out, but you can tell her skin is pale. “They weren’t close, but they got along. This is a photo of the two of them together. When she heard about what’s been going on, she took a look at her Facebook albums from college, found this and some others, which I’ll get to. You can only imagine how I felt getting this DM. How excited I was that someone was reaching out to share a bit more about Janelle’s wonderful life. I couldn’t stop smiling. Until she told me the rest.”

Billie’s face actually stops smiling as she gets serious. “Apparently, Janelle met some upperclassman. Fell in love quick. Spent a lot of time at his off-campus apartment. But the relationship was volatile. Janelle would come back to the dorm room every time they got in a fight. And she’d come back more and more as the semester went on. And then, finally, things came to a head. The roommate doesn’t know what happened. Janelle never shared with her, but it must’ve been bad, because one day Janelle said she was dropping out. Packed up her stuff. And she never came back. The roommate tried to keep in touch, but Janelle never responded.”

Billie shakes her head, as if she can’t believe it. Tears form. “Our poor Janelle. She lived such a life of pain. I think that’s why I connected so much with her. Because we’re both the same in that, no matter what, we keep smiling. Always.”

More tears. She wipes them away and gets herself together. “Here’s where things take a turn. Let’s go back to my DMs.”

The DMs are back, except now Billie’s shown more.

The light-gray bubble: I was Janelle Beckett’s freshman year roommate.

Billie’s response is now visible in blue. At Montclair State?

Their response: No. College Park.

Billie’s positioned herself in the bottom right of the screen. She points to the words “College Park.” “Before Janelle Beckett graduated from Montclair State University, she was at University of Maryland—College Park. I know you’re wondering how we missed this, but it was just one semester. And as soon as I saw College Park, I immediately recognized the name as where Tyler Franklin went to undergrad.”

Tyler’s Instagram page appears behind her; the UMD Man in his bio has been hastily circled in a thick red. “According to his LinkedIn, he graduated in 2011, which meant he would’ve been there fall of her freshman year. The roommate didn’t even need to send me this photo, but I’m glad she did.”

Another photo pops up. Janelle wears the same outfit from the previous picture. It’s from the same night. Behind her, a few college-age kids are in what looks like an animated conversation. They’re at a party. Janelle’s hugged up with a Black guy.

It’s a younger, chunkier Tyler Franklin.

“Janelle and Tyler Franklin dated her freshman year. He was the one whose apartment she was staying at, who’d kick her out every time they got into a fight. He was so horrible that poor Janelle had to leave campus and was afraid to speak to anyone there, including her old roommate.”

Another screenshot pops up behind Billie. It’s a comment from JayJay4321: Today’s #MakeupMonday got me wanting to hit up my ex.

“When Janelle posted this on one of my Lives, I didn’t think much of it at the time. But now I know that ex had to be Tyler Franklin. That would explain so much. This wasn’t some random encounter. They knew each other. They were dating. Again. And I can’t help but keep thinking about that comment and wondering if something I said pushed her back toward Tyler Franklin. It made me realize I need to be more mindful of what I say. How I use this platform. Because I would never be able to forgive myself if I played even the smallest part in what happened to Janelle.”

She pauses. Contemplating. Truly torn. Finally, she shakes it off, smiles that fake smile to prove everything is okay. “If you know where Tyler Franklin is or can prove that’s him in that video hunting down Janelle Beckett, my DMs are open.”

FOURTEEN

Ading. The elevator doors opened, but I didn’t move. Too busy crying.

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