Page 15 of Guess Again

Somewhere North of Madison Wednesday, July 9, 2025

SHE WAS STILL IN WISCONSIN, SOMEWHERE CLOSE TO MADISON.

NOT far from home, but a million miles away at the same time.

She knew this from watching the local news.

Her room—or cell, or area of confinement, or whatever the hell she was calling the place she was being held captive—had a flat screen television hanging on the wall that allowed her to pass the time by watching any channel that came in.

The best reception was the local news, which was an affiliate out of Madison. The searing heat wave that had befallen the Midwest dominated the latest news cycle. But there was something new, too. The Wisconsin authorities, under direction of the new governor, had reopened the Callie Jones disappearance case. She turned up the volume to hear the latest.

The room was equipped with a couch that converted into a bed, a coffee table, and a small refrigerator stocked with water.

A bathroom with a shower was located on the other side of the room, opposite the locked door she had spent hours inspecting to identify any way of opening it, or penetrating it, or in some way getting on the other side of it where freedom waited.

So far she had found no weakness in the door other than the slot through which her captor sent food every day or two.

She had peeked through the hatch and saw that there was a room on the other side of the door that looked like an unfinished basement.

The news anchor had just started her report on Governor Jones reopening his daughter’s case when she heard a car door slam outside.

She muted the television and stood from the couch.

The bag of fast food had surprised her the first time it was dropped through the slot.

Since then, food had arrived like clockwork and she thought many times about an ambush.

About grabbing the hand that reached through the slot to drop the food. But what she would do from that point, after she had grasped her captor’s arm, was a mystery. Instead, she decided reconnaissance was her best option. She hurried to the door and lifted the hatch to peek through. She watched the landing of the basement stairs and waited for them to brighten when the upstairs door opened.

They did, and she heard footsteps bounding down the steps.

What she saw next stunned her.

She had always imagined a big, burly, slob of a man as her captor.

Instead, she saw a woman wearing a black mask emerge from the stair well and approach the door.

She quickly lowered the hatch and moved to the side, watching as the Culver’s bag was stuffed through the slot and dropped onto the floor. Just as the bag landed, she moved back to the slot and lifted it. She saw the woman walk to the landing and disappear up the stairs, leaving her alone with her fast food.

She heard keys jangle from upstairs as the front door deadbolt twisted into place.