Page 7 of The Lake of Lost Girls

“Wait—” I began, but he cut me off again.

“As I said, I didn’t know who you were at first. That wasn’t why I checked in to this hotel. Call it dumb luck. Or maybe serendipity. Whatever it was, it felt like a sign. There was something about you, I just didn’t know what. Now I know. You’re her.” He pointed to the little girl in the picture, clinging to her devastated mother. “You’re Lindsey Fadley, Jess Fadley’s little sister. It was only ten seconds, right?”

I had heard enough. More than enough.

I stood up, grabbing my purse. In my haste, I knocked over my glass of wine, soaking Ryan’s papers. In a daze, I fumbled for a napkin, dabbing the quickly spreading stain as Ryan went to grab the documents.

Our hands brushed and I recoiled as if he had burned me. I dropped the napkin on the table and turned to leave.

“Please, hear me out,” Ryan implored, but he wouldn’t sway me.

I spun back around to face him, my expression thunderous. “Hear you out?You’re all the same; a bunch of vultures. Leave me alone. Leave my family alone.This is my life.Don’t you get that? It’s not just a story.”

“It’s my life, too!” He snapped unexpectedly, confusing me.

“What?” I snarled.

He seemed to get ahold of himself, looking contrite. “I’m sorry, it’s only … I’ve been looking into this case,all of the cases, for as long as I’ve been a journalist. I’ve put everything into it, wanting them to be solved. I know it must sound ridiculous to you, but this case—Jess’s case—it’s important to me, Lindsey.”

I flinched at the sound of my name on his lips. “But that’s the problem. To me, it’s my missing sister, my heartbroken mom, my devastated dad. To you, it’s only a story—a case. But this isourlife that you’re investigating, and for what? A fancy byline and an award or two? You’ll dig up your dirt, then go back to your old world, not caring about any devastation you leave behind, just like all the others.”

Feeling emotionally depleted, I quickly left, not daring to look at Ryan again. I already knew that Evelyn would put my meal on my hotel account, as that was our usual routine.

Outside, the air had turned colder, and I realized that in my temper, I’d left without my jacket. The anger evaporated as I tried to get my bearings. I had been ambushed. Or at least that’s what it felt like. I felt vulnerable and exposed.

“You left this inside.” Ryan appeared beside me, my coat in his hands. He held it out to me and I took it without a thank-you.

I put it on and fished my keys out of my purse. I didn’t want him following me to my car. I didn’t trust him.

“Lindsey, I didn’t know who you were when I checked in. I just thought you were this gorgeous woman who I reallywanted to talk to. But yes, you seemed familiar. And like any good journalist—”

“Or creepy stalker,” I interjected coldly.

Ryan ignored the barb. “I looked you up. It wasn’t hard to make the connection.” Ryan turned back to the hotel entrance. “Please, let’s go back inside.”

“Are you joking?” I scoffed.

“Let me buy you a drink. There’s more I want to talk to you about.”

“Why?” I demanded, glaring at him. “So you can dig up some dirt on Jess? Pick my brain for any scrap of memory I have of her? I’ll make it easy for you, Ryan, I barely remember her. All I know is that she was my sister and I loved her, everything else is …” I waved a hand around, unable to find the words. My anger was turning to grief like it always did whenever I talked about her. “This is all so you can gnaw at her bones for your story, but I won’t let you.”

“That’s not how it is,” he gasped.

“So, why should I talk to you? Particularly when you don’t appear very trustworthy.”

Ryan took a moment before replying, clearly trying to change his tactic since the old one wasn’t working. He ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks reddening. “I know how this looks. But, I’ve been researching this case for years, Lindsey …”

“Stop saying my name like you know me!” I screeched, my fingers curling into claws ready to gouge his eyes out.

“But I feel like I do.” He lifted his hand as if to touch me, then thought better of it. “I want justice for Jess.” I had an intense reaction to him saying her name. My entire body seized up, as if to defend myself. “For the other girls too, of course, but especially Jess. I want to know where she is. What happened to her. I want her family—”

“Me,” I interjected dryly.

“Yes, you—I want you to get some form of closure, if that’s at all possible.” His tone was carefully neutral. “But Lindsey, I also need to know what happened to her …” His words died off, but they hung in the air like a portent.

“Why do you care so much?” I asked quietly, daring to look at him, and then wishing I hadn’t. He looked mournful. It was hard to hold on to your anger when you could understand that need for answers, no matter what.

“Because Jess was a person. A woman with a life. With dreams. With a future.” He took my hand and this time I let him. “She had people who loved her—deeply—and we all deserve to know what happened to her. But especially you, Lindsey. Maybe you more than anyone.”

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