Page 12 of The Lake of Lost Girls

This is the worst story of law enforcement ineptitude I’ve ever encountered, and I’ve been deep into true crime for many, many years.

Let’s start at the beginning. One by one I will pick their lives apart, looking for something the police overlooked.

It probably won’t be that hard because they weren’t looking for dead girls—but I am.

CHAPTER4

LINDSEY

Present day

“YOU’RE HERE EARLY.”Ryan slid into the booth opposite me and gave me his charming smile.

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure I was going to come at all,” I told him flatly.

He held my gaze. “I’m glad you did.”

I looked away first, my eyes lowering to my almost-empty coffee mug. I’d arrived at Perk and Pastries, a place I usually visited on my way home from the late shift at work, early, to give myself time to back out and leave if I needed to. The thing was, the longer I sat there, the more I knew I had to stay. Ryan had made it clear that he knew things about Jess and that made him incredibly appealing to me, whether I liked it or not.

Rhonda Taylor, a girl I’d gone to high school with and who worked at the café, came over to take Ryan’s order and I asked for another coffee.

Growing up, Rhonda had always been nice to me. People in Mt. Randall treated me in one of two ways—like the main event at a freak show or like someone fresh out of the leper colony. Jess’s disappearance either garnered fascination or fear, and people’s behavior toward me reflected that. Rhonda was one of the rare few who was neither. She was nice, butnot a friend. She had no idea how much I appreciated her polite disinterest.

My phone rang loudly from somewhere at the bottom of my purse as Ryan ordered himself a coffee. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen, seeing that it was an unknown number. I turned off the ringer and shoved it back in my purse.

“You can take that,” he offered as Rhonda left to get our drinks.

“It’s probably another journalist. They’ve been hounding my parents and me ever since those remains were found. My dad thinks we should get new numbers.”

Ryan winced. “Well, I can see how easy it is to lump me in with all of them.”

“Yeah, I hope you bring more to the table than half-baked questions and no sense of privacy.” I raised my eyebrows and gave him a pointed look.

“No half-baked questions, I promise.” He crossed his heart with a finger. “So, tell me a bit about yourself, Lindsey.”

“This isn’t a date, Ryan. You don’t need to loosen me up with small talk. And this will be off the record.” I wouldn’t budge on that. I knew how much damage a sound bite could cause and I didn’t want to read my words in his newspaper months, or even years, from now.

“Absolutely. We’ll keep this between us.”

“I mean it, Ryan. I’m not a source for your article.” I watched the way he picked at the skin around his thumb. It must have been a nervous habit.

“I promise.” He was so emphatic that it was hard not to believe him—to trust him.

Rhonda came back and placed two coffees in front of us, before giving me a knowing smile. “Enjoy,” she cooed and left.

Clearly, she thought this was some sort of date, and I hated that she thought that, but she was gone before I could correct her.

Ryan took a sip of his flat black coffee. “A sweet tooth, I see,” Ryan commented as I took a long drink of my mocha latte. I didn’t respond to his overt friendliness.

This whole thing had the feel of opening Pandora’s box. Once we started, there was no unknowing. But I was here now, and there was no going back.

“So, you got me here, now tell me what you know, Ryan.” I dove straight in, getting right to the point. My heart hammered in my chest as I waited, hating that he held all the cards.

“It’s not as easy as that,” he began. “It’s more about—” He stopped abruptly then turned the conversation in a direction I hadn’t expected. “First, tell me what you remember about Jess.”

Her name had a visible effect on both of us. I sucked in a breath, he let one out.

Jess.

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