Page 26 of Guess Again
Milwaukee, Wisconsin Wednesday, July 16, 2025
“I’M HOPING YOU CAN TELL ME ABOUT THE SUMMER CALLIE WENT missing,”
Ethan said.
“Callie’s mom has passed.
And her father, although desperate and willing to help in any way he can, hasn’t provided much useful information in the couple of times we’ve spoken.
Also, I learned during my years investigating crimes against teens and young adults that parents have a skewed view of their kids.
When it comes to teenaged victims of crime, it’s much more likely that their friends can offer useful information than the victims’ parents.”
Lindsay nodded.
“I spoke with the police and detectives, including Pete Kramer, after Callie disappeared.
But I’ll tell you everything I know about her and about that summer.
Ten years later, my memory is likely not as good as when this all happened.”
“I have access to the case file and transcripts of all the interviews that were conducted.
I’ve just started digging into them.
Don’t worry if your memory isn’t perfect.
Let’s start with you and Callie.”
Lindsay nodded.
“Sure.
Callie and I met in kindergarten and became inseparable.
We had other friends throughout grade school and high school, but we were always best friends.
And when we got to high school, we both tried out for and made the volleyball team.
Callie and I were the only freshmen on the varsity squad, so we had to stick together. Volleyball made us closer.”
“And from what I’ve read in the case file, the girls’ volleyball team was a big deal in Cherryview.”
Lindsay smiled.
“Yeah, we were.
As far as Cherryview, Wisconsin was concerned anyway.
Callie and I started as freshmen and helped lead the team to the state championship game that year.
We lost, but just barely.”
Lindsay playfully smacked her fist into her palm.
“We were so, so close.
Callie and I found this quote we used to throw around after that game—‘the tragedy of life is not that man loses, but that he almost wins.’”
Lindsay smiled.
“We were so close that year, and it hurt so bad.
We promised to never get that close again and lose.
And we didn’t.
As sophomores, Callie and I took over the team and won state that year.
And again our junior year. In little Cherryview, Wisconsin, Callie and I were superstars.”
Lindsay laughed.
Another attempt to hold back tears.
“Callie and I made girls’ volleyball popular.
The stands were packed with fans for every home game—students and parents, but also just people from town who wanted to watch us play.
For those three years, we drew bigger crowds than the football team.
And if you know anything about small towns in Wisconsin, you know Friday night football dominates.
But we gave football a run for its money those years.”
Lindsay forced a smile.
“Then, after junior year, Callie .
.
.
she went through a lot of stuff that summer.
Stuff I probably should’ve been a better friend about.”
“Like what?”
“Her parents split, and her mom remarried right away.
There were rumors about an affair, and that was hard for her to deal with.
And Callie hated her stepdad.
He was really creepy.
She was stuck living with her mom because Mr. Jones was MIA with all the political engagements and keeping up his image. Callie was always worried about getting in any sort of trouble for fear that it would reflect badly on her father. As if any little thing Callie did that wasn’t perfect could ruin his political career. So she was always walking on eggshells. It felt like only during an actual volleyball match could she forget about all the pressures of her life and just be herself.”
Lindsay shrugged.
“Anyway, with all that was going on, Callie became really distant and our friendship sort of became strained.”
“Strained how?”
Ethan asked.
Lindsay shrugged.
“There was a time when we would tell each other everything.
But that summer she sort of folded in on herself and .
.
.
I don’t know, stopped sharing things with me. I mean, look, in retrospect we were high school best friends. We had our ups and downs, and lots of girl drama. It’s just taken me a lot of years to get over the idea that she disappeared during one of our downswings. I knew something was bothering her that summer, and I didn’t take the time to figure out what it was. And then . . .”
“She disappeared,”
Ethan said.
Summer 2015
Cherryview, Wisconsin
THE START OF THE SCHOOL YEAR WAS STILL ANOTHER MONTH AWAY, BUT summer practices were in full swing, and today’s ran late.
Callie was in charge that day, and she always made a point of extending practice later than the scheduled stop time.
It was Callie’s way of showing her new coach that she and the team were a serious bunch ready to win another state championship.
And when she encouraged her teammates to push on despite wanting to quit, it displayed her leadership.
Lindsay did the same when she was running practice, but she was more obvious about it, not as genuine, and the team knew Lindsay was just trying to impress Coach Cordis. Callie was shrewder.
This afternoon, she started the last quarter of practice, which was designated for conditioning, ten minutes later than normal.
And, based on a consensus she took from her teammates, decided to extend the two-mile-end-of-practice run to three miles.
With the late start and additional mile, even the fastest, strongest, and best-conditioned team members would finish practice late.
Callie ran from the street and onto the track that encircled the high school’s football field, crossing the finish line in a dead sprint fifty yards in front of her closest contender.
Then, she waited a few minutes to allow the rest of the faster runners to pour across the finish line.
When the track was sufficiently crowded so that her absence would not be missed, she wandered off and ran back up the street.
She was shifty about it, not wanting her other teammates to notice her doubling back for fear that they would join her.
It took just a minute to run into her first teammate.
“Let’s go, Molly! You’ve got this!”
Callie cheered as she ran past.
A few yards farther and she came across two more teammates.
“Let’s do this! Almost there!”
And so it continued until she came to the last girl, who was struggling with the added mile.
When Callie reached her, she turned and ran alongside her.
“How you doing?”
“Not good,”
the girl said.
“I might puke.”
“Who cares?”
Callie said.
“So you puke.
It won’t kill you.
And if you puke and work through it, Coach will notice.”
“I think I’m last.”
“You are.
But you’re still going to finish.
And you’re going to finish strong. Ready?”
“For what?”
“We’re going to sprint this last leg, all the way into the track.”
“Not sure I can.”
“I am.”
“You are what?”
“Sure you can do it.
Let’s go!”
Callie took off in a sprint, and her teammate followed close behind.
Soon they were running side by side.
As they grew closer to the track, Callie put her hand on the girl’s back, ushering her the last of the way and, finally, across the finish line.
She high-fived the girl, and then glanced out of the side of her eye to make sure Coach Cordis had noticed her efforts.
Ten minutes later, the track was clear as the volleyball squad headed into the locker room.
Callie stayed behind.
As the day’s team leader, she was in charge of packing up the outdoor practice courts.
Callie hauled a mesh bag filled with volleyballs over to the giant bin next to one of the practice courts.
“Hey,”
Coach Cordis said as he walked over.
“Nice job today.”
Callie smiled. “Thanks.”
“Gracie has a hard time with conditioning.
Great job helping her across the finish line.”
“She would have made it without me.
I was just encouraging her.”
“You were pushing her.
Probably harder than she would have pushed herself.
You’re a great captain, Callie.
And we’re going to have a really good season if you keep it up and get the rest of the team to work as hard as you do.”
“I’ll try.”
Blake Cordis was a first-year coach.
He graduated from UW Madison in May and was about to start his first year teaching history.
He landed the head-coaching job by chance when the long-running girls’ volleyball coach retired unexpectedly due to health issues.
Blake was a last-minute replacement, but the girls warmed to him quickly.
He had been in college at this time last year, and Callie knew he was not too far removed from where she was now—a high school senior struggling with all the things students deal with. She continued to remind herself of this every time she and Coach Cordis were alone together, which seemed to happen more and more lately.
He placed his hand on the small of her back, above the band of her shorts and below the bottom of her sports top.
The skin-to-skin contact sent a quiver through her chest as he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
“I’m counting on you this year, Callie.
It’s my first year here, and I need you to make me look good, so they hire me back next year.”
Callie laughed awkwardly.
Her cheeks flushed and her stomach buzzed with something—excitement, maybe, or was it still the adrenaline from the run?
Blake Cordis stood up straight, but his hand remained on her back.
She didn’t mind.
If he were a boy from her school, she’d think about kissing him.
But he wasn’t a classmate.
He was her coach.
Still, it didn’t stop her from thinking about it.
The letter waited on the desk in her bedroom, the seal of the University of Cincinnati stenciled across the front.
Despite the fact that it was addressed to her, Callie saw that the envelope had already been opened.
Her mother, having seen the seal, knew that the letter inside either declared Callie’s acceptance to the ultracompetitive, eight-year, direct-to-medical school program, or carried a regretful denial, and could not help herself.
Callie unfolded the letter and read the first line:
Congratulations! We are happy to inform you that you’ve been accepted into the DIRECT program at the University of Cincinnati.
Materializing like a ghost from the ether, her mother was in the doorway of her bedroom.
“Well?”
she asked, as if Callie was supposed to have missed that the envelope had already been opened.
As if her mother hadn’t already read the letter and had the next eight years of Callie’s life plotted out like a melodramatic romance novel.
Callie went along with the charade because it was simply her mother’s way.
Callie was expected to ignore certain truths—like that her mother cheated on her father and was remarried to a man whose ick factor was off the charts; or that her mother was using Callie to fill whatever void existed from her younger years; or that her mother had opened her acceptance letter and read every word while Callie was at school—all so that the perfect little existence that was being created could remain a blemish-free fairy tale.
Callie had learned long ago not to challenge this anomaly.
To do so set her mother off on an overly theatrical response that included feeling betrayed and depressed for days.
The theater was too much to deal with so, instead, Callie smiled and held up the acceptance letter as if she were about to deliver breaking news.
“I got in!”
“Oh, sweetheart! That’s fabulous!”
Her mother rushed into her bedroom and embraced her in a tight hug.
“Damien,”
her mother yelled.
“Damien, come up here.
Callie has some wonderful news.”
This, too, was a dare Callie knew not to challenge.
She’d much prefer telling her dad the “good”
news before sharing it with her stepfather, but to verbalize that wish—or mention her father at all—would throw the household dynamic into a weeklong frenzy of arguments, silence, and faux hurt feelings.
Her stepfather walked into her bedroom—something Callie allowed only because her mother was present.
Damien more than creeped Callie out with the way he looked at her and her friends.
She started locking her bedroom door at night ever since he’d moved in that summer.
“Callie was accepted into the DIRECT program,”
her mother said.
“Well that’s just fantastic,”
Damien said, continuing the charade.
“You’ll have to let them know this week,”
her mother said.
“That you accept.”
Callie raised her eyebrows, scanned to the bottom of the letter where this fact was stated, and then smiled at the ridiculousness of it all.
“I’m going to call Dad to let him know.”
Like icing running down the side of a too-warm muffin, the smile melted from her mother’s face.
Callie wanted them both out of her bedroom and knew mentioning her father was the best way to do it.
“Go right ahead,”
her mother said before turning and walking out of the room.
When her mother was gone, it was just Callie and Damien.
Callie on her bed, Damien a few feet away.
“Why do you have to do that?”
Damien asked.
“Do what?”
“Throw your father in her face?”
“I just got accepted to college and medical school at the same time.
I think it’s pretty normal to want to tell my dad about it.
I mean, he’s going to take care of the tuition anyway.
It’s not like you’re able to pay for it, are you Damien?”
“Your mom just wanted a moment to celebrate with you.
She’s proud of you.”
“You’re not allowed in my room.
That’s the one rule my dad still gets a say in, even though my mother ruined her marriage by having an affair with you.”
“Callie, we didn’t have an affair.
That’s just another lie your father told you.
And if you think your dad is so great, why don’t you go live with him?”
Damien took a step closer to her.
“Because he doesn’t have time for you, that’s why.
He’s too busy with his business and his budding political career.
Every other weekend is enough for him, because all he really wants is to run for governor and tend to his ego.
And if he ever becomes the chosen one and actually gains the backing he needs to run for governor, you’ll likely see him less than you do now.
So you should really start treating your mother better. She’s the one who’s looking out for you.”
Damien turned and left her room.
When he was gone, Callie jumped from bed and slammed the door, still holding her acceptance letter in her shaking hands.
Callie sat on her bed.
It was just past 10:00 p.m.
She hadn’t left her room since she’d opened her acceptance letter.
She hadn’t called her father, either.
As much as she resented her mother’s hovering, her dad was no better. The details of the divorce had never been made known to Callie or her sister, but there were rumors and insinuations that it was not her mother who had cheated first. And her father was happy to settle the whole thing quietly and without spectacle and move on. His political career was too new and delicate to survive a nasty divorce that included skeletons dancing from closets.
As much as Callie despised Damien, he was right about her father.
Mark Jones was a man on a mission.
If he wasn’t at work, he was attending a fundraiser and rubbing elbows with the Who’s Who of Wisconsin politics.
Even if she called him now, he wouldn’t answer.
And whatever message Callie left, it would be two or three days before he got back to her. She felt alone and isolated in what was supposed to be a joyous moment in her life.
She thought briefly of calling Lindsay.
Instead, though, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found the number.
She was nervous to dial it, but he had told Callie to call at any time and for any reason.
They were a team, he had told them all, and he would be there for any of them if they needed him.
Before she could change her mind, she typed a text message:
Coach Cordis, I’m having some issues at home.
Could you come pick me up?
The reply was instant.
Of course.
At your house?
Callie’s insides swirled with anxiety and anticipation.
No.
At the park down the street.
Drop me a pin.
Ten minutes?
OK.
Callie slipped her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans and quietly twisted the handle on her bedroom door.
Her mother’s door was closed, and she saw the blue light of the television seeping from underneath it.
Her mother and Damien were watching television in bed—their nightly ritual.
She closed her door and snuck down the stairs.
She tried to make it past the family room without her sister noticing, but didn’t make it.
Her younger sister was an up-and-coming volleyball star.
Jaycee Jones was about to join the Cherryview girls’ volleyball team as a freshman, and her skills were rumored to rival Callie’s.
There had always been a fair amount of jealousy, disguised as competitiveness, between the two sisters, and their relationship was hit or miss.
“Where are you going?”
Jaycee asked.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Just out.
I need to get out of the house for a little while.”
“Mom said you got accepted to the DIRECT program.”
“Yeah.
My acceptance letter came today.”
“Nice!”
“Thanks,”
Callie said.
Today, their sister rivalry took a backseat, and Jaycee’s excitement was the first bit of genuine emotion Callie had felt about the news.
“If mom wakes up or comes down, don’t tell her I left. Okay?”
Jaycee waved.
“If you get caught, leave me out of it.”
Callie said nothing more before slipping out the back door.
She hurried through the night, her insides ready to explode.
When she reached the park at the end of her street, she saw a car in the lot with its headlights on.
She walked over and climbed into the passenger seat.
“Thanks for doing this, Coach.”
Blake Cordis smiled.
“When one of my players needs me, I’m always there for them.
Especially you, Callie.”
They drove the quiet streets of Cherryview for thirty minutes and then up to the bluff that rose above the south end of Lake Okoboji, where Callie’s house sat on the shoreline.
Blake pulled his car into a secluded spot but kept the engine running so that the air conditioning could fight against the muggy summer night.
A nearly full moon laid a silvery glow onto the surface of the water below.
The Crest, an island in the middle of the lake that held a popular restaurant for boaters and two sand volleyball courts where Callie and Lindsay often played, was visible in the distance.
“I heard from University of Cincinnati,”
Callie finally said.
“You did? And?”
She forced a smile.
“I got in.”
“To the dual program?”
Callie nodded.
“Congratulations.
That’s a big deal!”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Tell me what it is again.
It’s a direct-to-medical school program, right?”
Another nod.
“So I would basically do my normal four years of undergrad.
But they would be heavily focused on science courses.
You know, bio and chem and physiology.
I wouldn’t take any of the elective courses.
Then, after four years I go straight into the medical school at Cinci. The next eight years of my life, all planned out and wrapped up like a pretty little present placed under the Christmas tree.”
“Wow, Callie.
That’s amazing.”
“Yeah, it’s .
.
.
you know.
It is what it is.”
Blake cocked his head.
“You don’t seem as excited as I would expect.”
“I know it’s a big deal and it’s ultracompetitive and there are only a few spots in the whole country and I should be super excited, but . . .”
“But what?”
“But the whole thing was my mom’s idea.
I mean, I swear I think she wants this more than I do.
And she wants it, not for me, but so that she can, I don’t know, brag to her friends about what a successful daughter she has.”
“You don’t want it?”
“I want to be a doctor.
I want to go to medical school.
I just want to do it the normal way.
I want to have a normal college experience, not this limited, hyper-focused thing my mother signed me up for.
I’ll be the only person at school in this accelerated program. Does that sound like a recipe for fun? Does that sound like the best way to make new friends?”
“Have you talked to your parents about taking the more traditional route? Just doing your normal four years of undergrad and then applying to medical school?”
Callie laughed.
“My mother would need to be rational for me to have that conversation with her.
She is not.”
“How about your dad?”
“He just does what my mom says.
They’re divorced.
He pays the bills but that’s about it.
I see him twice a month.
But he’s deep into politics and he’s made it very clear that I am a direct reflection on him, and that any trouble I get into in high school would ruin his political career. I’m not a troublemaker, lucky for him. But he also wants me to shine so that he looks good. He’s the up-and-coming political powerhouse with the all-American daughter who’s on her way to saving the world as a doctor. No one is excited for me, only for what my potential success can do for them.”
Blake leaned closer to her.
Callie could smell his aftershave.
The butterflies fluttered inside of her.
“This is a big deal, Callie.
It’s a huge opportunity, but you have to make sure it’s right for you.”
She turned toward him, and it was as if the car had shrunk in half.
They were face-to-face, looking at each other in a way they had never done before.
The glow of the moon illuminated half his face, and he seemed at once more mature than any of the boys in her grade, yet not much older than she was.
Without thinking more about it, she leaned closer to him.
After a moment of hesitation, he cut the distance and their lips came together.
They kissed softly at first, and then more aggressively before Blake pulled away.
“Whoa,”
he said, sitting back in the driver’s seat.
“Hold on.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Uh, well, let’s see.
You’re one of my soon-to-be students, so there’s that.
You’re also one of my players and I’m your coach, and I’m pretty sure you’re underage.”
“I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks.
And you literally just graduated college.
You’re, like, twenty-two.”
Blake shook his head, still catching his breath.
“Twenty-one.
I’ll be twenty-two in September.”
“So,”
Callie went on, “we’re not even four years apart.
If you were twenty-five and I was twenty-one, would this be a big deal?”
“I’m not twenty-five, and you’re definitely not twenty-one.
And the law is the law.”
“I don’t care about the law,”
Callie said, unbuckling her seatbelt so that she could cross over the middle console.
She kissed him again and felt him resist for a moment.
But she was persistent and before long she felt his hands grab her thighs and slide up her jean shorts as he pulled her across the console and onto his lap.
Callie rode in the passenger seat.
It was close to 10:00 p.m.
and she had snuck out to be with Blake again.
They had been spending more and more time together lately, and Blake had warned that they needed to be careful.
“How about after I turn eighteen,”
Callie said.
“Are we still going to sneak around then?”
“Yes,”
Blake said.
“Maybe after you’re in college and no longer one of my student athletes we can be less careful.”
“I’ll be a legal adult in August.”
“In the eyes of the law, yes.
But it’s still a bad look.
And the school for sure can’t know anything about this.”
Blake pulled into the gas station and parked far from the pumps, outside of the range of the security cameras.
“If we’re still together when I’m, like, twenty? Are we still going to sneak around?”
“Not like this.
But we’d have to sit down and talk to your parents at that point.”
“Ha!”
Callie said.
“You think I’d ever ask my parents for permission to see you?”
“Not now, no.
But when we’re both a little older and you’re out of the house and away at school, a lot can change between you and your parents.
That’s all I’m saying.
But for now, during your senior year and while I start teaching in the fall, we have to keep things quiet.
Really, really quiet. Got it?”
Callie looked at him through the darkness.
“Yeah, I get it.”
“You haven’t told any of your friends, have you?”
“About us? God no.
They’d freak out.
And for sure none of them would stay quiet about it.”
“Not even Lindsay, right?”
“Why are you asking about Lindsay?”
“Because you guys are best friends.”
“I haven’t told her a thing, and don’t plan to.”
Blake nodded.
“So explain it to me again.
What are we doing at this gas station?”
Callie asked.
“I need a prepaid cell phone.”
“What’s the matter with your phone?”
“You can’t call my phone anymore.
Or text.
We need a prepaid phone so we can talk.
No one’s able to trace it.”
“Trace it?”
“Like if your parents ever look at your phone.”
“My parents never look at my phone.”
“But just in case they ever do.
My number should not be in your call list, Callie.
The school has a strict policy against students texting teachers directly.
If we buy a prepaid phone, we can text back and forth without worrying someone will find out.
Just keep using that app to erase our text threads.”
“You’re being paranoid.”
Blake handed her money.
“The phones will be up by the register.
Grab a Samsung.
They have the most minutes on them.
And pay cash.”
Callie took the money and stared at him.
“Trust me,”
Blake said.
“This is the safest way for now.”
“I hate all this sneaking around.”
“It won’t be forever.
But for now, this is how we have to do it.”
Blake leaned over and kissed her before Callie exited the car and walked across the dark parking lot of the gas station.