Page 61 of Guess Again

Cherryview, Wisconsin Sunday, August 3, 2025

IT WAS SUNDAY EVENING WHEN ETHAN FINALLY GOT THE CALL FROM Christian.

“Got it?”

Ethan said when he answered.

“Unfortunately, no.

Dr.

Larkin wasn’t kidding when she said she had top-notch encryption in place.

It’s taking me longer than I had anticipated to crack.

I’ll get through it, but not before Monday, Doc. Sorry, pal.”

Ethan took a deep breath.

“No worries.

I know you’re doing everything you can.

Keep at it.

Even if it comes after tomorrow, I need to know what you find.”

“Will do.

But on a side note,”

Christian said.

“I was finally able to recover Callie Jones’s text messages from her SIM card.

And I think you’re going to want to see them.”

“I’ll be over in a few.”

Christian handed Ethan a Spotted Cow when he answered the door.

“Come on in.

The text threads are pretty garbled up, but I think I got most of what’s left of them.”

Ethan took a sip of beer as he followed Christian through the palatial home and into the man’s tech lair, where the air was considerably cooler than the rest of the house to keep the bank of computers and processors working efficiently.

Screens glowed and blinked from every corner.

Christian sat in front of one of the monitors and attacked the keyboard in impossibly quick strokes.

“I told you that the girl used an app to encrypt her texts, and then delete them after they were sent.

The application she used no longer exists, which is why it took me so long to recover the texts.

I had to reverse engineer the old technology in order to gain access.

And even now, I don’t have everything.

But I found the thread from Saturday, July 18, 2015. That’s the night she disappeared, right?”

Ethan remembered touring The Crest with Lindsay Larkin and hearing that Callie had left abruptly after receiving a text.

No one had seen her since, other than Jaycee Jones, Callie’s younger sister, when Callie stopped home briefly for a sweatshirt.

“Yeah, that’s the night.”

“I figured,”

Christian said.

“Because it’s the last text thread that showed up on her phone.

Came in at 9:02 p.m.”

Christian pecked at the keyboard for another second until the text thread appeared.

He pushed against the desk and sent his wheeled chair sliding to the side to give Ethan access.

Ethan moved closer and read the thread.

What’s wrong?

I need to see you.

Where are you?

The Crest.

You okay?

I need to talk to you about the baby.

I’m keeping it.

You didn’t go through with it?

No.

I want this baby WITH YOU.

I want to start a life with you.

I need to see you tonight.

Do you have your parents’ boat?

Yes.

Meet me at North Point Pier.

I’ll be waiting on the dock.

I love you, Blake.

I love you, too.

Ethan looked up from the monitor.

“So,”

Christian said.

“The million dollar question is: Do you know who Blake is?”

Ethan put the beer on the desk and ran for the door.

“I do.”

Summer 2015

Cherryview, Wisconsin

THE LAKE WAS LIKE GLASS.

CALLIE CUT ACROSS THE SURFACE IN HER PARENTS’ Malibu 20 VTX Crossover as the horizon glowed lavender—the final efforts of a long summer day.

After she left The Crest she stopped home, a brief detour to grab a sweatshirt in case she and Blake decided to cruise the lake while they talked.

Her mother and Damien were out, so Callie had only to fend off her younger sister.

Jaycee wanted to know where Callie was heading, if not back to the party at The Crest.

“Out,”

Callie said.

“Out where?”

“Just out.”

The encounter was brief, and Callie knew her curtness might backfire.

If Jaycee was in a mood, she’d call their mother and tell her that Callie was up to no good.

Then, Callie’s phone would ring relentlessly from her mother’s calls.

But she had no time to talk to her younger sister.

And some part of her didn’t care if her mother knew what she was doing or who she was meeting.

Now, as she cruised across the lake she felt free and light.

Her parents’ scorn seemed to drown in the wake behind her.

Callie suddenly cared little about what her mother might say when she heard about the pregnancy or her decision to keep the baby.

Or what her new life would mean for her father’s political career.

Or about college or medical school or her scholarship or winning the state championship for a third straight year. All those things had fallen into the shadows, outshined by the joy of her baby and the life she and Blake would have together.

As she approached North Point Pier, the dock came into view.

The glow on the horizon was just bright enough to light her way.

She cut the Malibu’s engine, the wake splashing behind her as she cranked the boat into reverse to slow her momentum and maneuvered next to the long dock.

It was empty.

“Where are you?”

she whispered into the night.

The length of the dock glowed in the moonlight as Callie stepped onto it.

The tarnished burn of the moon lay across the surface of Lake Okoboji.

From the middle of the lake, the lights from The Crest were visible.

Echoes of music gamboled across the water’s flat surface.

As she tied off the boat, she squinted into the parking lot but saw no cars. North Point Pier was used as a boat launch, and as Callie walked down the dock she expected to see him waiting for her in his car.

She placed a hand on her stomach and closed her eyes, imagining the child that was growing in her womb.

It had been just two days since she visited the Planned Parenthood clinic, where Cheryl the nurse convinced her to take a moment before making a decision that she couldn’t undo.

The plan was to take a day or two to think about things, and if Callie still wanted to go through with the procedure then she’d come back, and Cheryl would help her through the process.

But from the moment Callie left the clinic, she knew she could never go through with it.

A strange but magical connection had developed between her and her unborn child.

It was something she didn’t understand and could never explain, but that connection had brought her here to North Point Pier to meet the person she wanted to start a life with.

Would everyone agree with her decision? Callie was sure not.

But it was her decision to make, and hers alone.

Not her mother’s or her father’s or any of her friends’.

It was her life, and no one would tell her how to live it any longer.

She’d spent years listening to the plans other people made for her. From volleyball and how to spend every waking moment—at the gym or on the court—to her studies and her future. But with the life growing inside of her, she was ready to leave it all behind. Her parents would argue that she was throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime. But really, she was simply choosing another path. That of motherhood, and it felt so perfectly right. She sensed the heavy burden of the past few years lift from her shoulders, and, for the first time in many years, Callie Jones was excited about her future.

She walked to the end of the pier and stepped off the dock.

Cicadas buzzed and echoed into the night.

A dog barked in the distance.

And a twig snapped behind her.

Before she could turn around, she felt a crack on the back of her skull. The impact was jarring—stunning her and stopping her in her tracks. She had the wherewithal to turn around, her eyes wide and unblinking as she spun. Another blow followed. This one to the crown of her head. A stream of warmth flowed from her hairline and ran the length of her cheek. She put her hand to her face. When she pulled it away, thick red blood covered her fingers.

A third blow came and brought blackness to her world.