Page 15 of The Lake of Lost Girls

Ryan cleared his throat, picking at his thumb again.

“So, are you and your parents close?” he asked.

“Very. Maybe more than most thirty-year-olds and their parents. That’s why I haven’t been able to leave home.” I flushed, feeling a little embarrassed at having admitted to this very good-looking man that I still lived at home with my parents. I knew how people viewed my decision—that to some, I looked pathetic. Maybe even a loser. But, again, with Ryan, I saw no judgment. “I know how it must look, a grown woman still sleeping in her childhood bedroom, but they’re scared of losing me, too. And I think I’m scared of leaving them on their own withtwoempty bedrooms. I know it sounds messed up, and I can’t expect you to understand what it’s like having to live in the shadow of a missing person.” I hesitated, ready to share my darkest secret for the first time. “We all loved her … we still do, but a part of me hates her as well.”

I felt guilty saying it, but it felt good, too. There was a rush of relief that made me feel rejuvenated. And I couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude to Ryan McKay for pushing me to this point.

Who knew all it would take for me to start releasing some of this pent-up darkness was for someone I didn’t know, with no connection to me or my trauma, to provide a listening ear and to make me feel seen and heard for the first time?

“You hate Jess?” Ryan sounded confused. “Why?”

“Because I was a kid—only six years old. I didn’t just lose my older sister that day, I lost what my life could have been. I was no longer simply Lindsey Fadley—crappy at math, but a hell of a softball player. I was now Lindsey Fadley—sister ofa missing woman. I would never have myownlife, myownidentity, because it was wrapped up in this horrific event that came to define everything. It came to defineme.” My eyes burned with unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall. This wasn’t about self-pity, this was anger.

“Growing up haunted by her ghost has ruined my life.” Repeating Ryan’s words from earlier seemed to resonate with both of us. There was a flash of understanding in his steady brown eyes. He got it. I didn’t know why, but he did.

And what I said was the truth. My truth. And it was irrevocably linked with my shame. But it was about time I owned it instead of suppressing it.

Ryan looked thoughtful. “I don’t think Jess would want you to feel that way.”

“What do you know about how my sister would feel? Why, because you’ve researched her life, you think you know her thoughts?” I snapped defensively. Old habits die hard. Vulnerability clearly made me punchy. “This faux sympathy is worse than your pickup lines.”

Ryan wasn’t put off by my combativeness. “What do you remember about that day?”

I still couldn’t help but see his questions about my sister as invasive. That as much as I liked having the chance to talk about Jess, the ingrained instinct to flee was hard to ignore. But I had to push through it. This could be my first step toward closure. Something I realized, I desperately needed. “I’m sure you’ve listened to my police interview.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear it from you.” He sat forward, his expression intense.

“Well, you’ll get more from that interview than what I can tell you now. I’ve told you many times now, I don’t remember much. All I know is that Jess came home for my birthday party. She went out to her car to get something for me. I learned much later it was a cake. I think I remember her telling me it was a surprise. I watched her from the living room window. I looked away—”

“For ten seconds,” Ryan filled in and I wanted to snarl. Those words—mywords—followed me everywhere.

“Right. Well one second she was there, and ten seconds later, she wasn’t.” I ignored the obvious disappointment on Ryan’s face. “That’s it. That’s all I can give you. There’s nothing else but the memory of being confused, sad, and lonely after that.”

We sat in complete silence for a few minutes as we each digested what I had revealed. For me, it felt monumental. For Ryan, maybe not so much. After all, there wasn’t a whole lot I could share that would matter to him. My fuzzy recollections were all I had and he had no idea how hard it was for me to relinquish them. I squirmed in my seat, needing to fill the silence. “Okay, my share time is over. It’s your turn now. What does pestering me about what I remember have to do with where Jess is or what happened to her?”

Ryan looked thoughtful. “Honestly, I’m not sure. But sometimes memories come to us that can have a major impact. You were so young, but you probably saw more than you realized. People tend to drop their guards around children because they think they’re not paying attention,” Ryan explained. “So, there can be a lot buried that simply needs some prodding to bring to the surface.”

“That’s all fine and dandy, but I’m more interested in hearing the thingsyou’velearned. Whatyouthink happened to her,” I pressed.

“There are a lot of dangling threads in this case. In all the cases, actually. There has to be a link. After all, each of the girls went to Southern State University at the same time. It’s not a big school. I’ve never been able to figure out why the authorities didn’t think the four missing women were connected. In such a small community, to have not one, not two, but four young women disappear, points to a predator. To think otherwise is not only ignorant, but stupid.”

“But then they’d have to admit there might have been a serial killer. One that they turned a blind eye to,” I speculated.

“Maybe. There’s nothing worse for a police department’s reputation than a killer on the loose that you can’t catch.” He smirked, but it faded quickly. “But I’ve been working foryears to find all the ways these stories intersect. And it goes back to the first missing girl, Tammy Estep. Did you know she was Jess’s RA?” Ryan asked.

I couldn’t contain my gasp. “Jess knew Tammy? I had no idea!”

“She sure did.” Ryan’s expression became curious. “Did you ever visit Jess at college? Perhaps you met Tammy.”

“Turning it back on me again I see. You really meant it when you said you give a little, I give a little, huh?” I remarked dryly.

Ryan chuckled. “My train of thought will make sense eventually. I promise. But remember what I said about kids picking up on things. I was wondering if you ever visited campus and maybe we can poke around a bit to see what you remember.”

I gave him a bland look. “Or maybe you’re still hoping to find a hook for your article.”

Ryan’s eyes widened slightly. “I really hope, once you get to know me better, that you realize my intentions are pure. I’m not some vulture. I’m not here to manipulate you …” He let out a sigh. “But I can be pushy. So, I understand if you don’t want to tell me—”

“I think I remember Jess’s move-in day,” I interrupted, jumping straight into the deep end without a life jacket. I’d come this far after all.

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