Page 7

CHAPTER

7

JESSICA

December 1998

THE CAMPUS WAS in chaos.

For most, it had to do with the impending Christmas break.

For others, for the terrified and the gossips, it had everything to do with the fact that another girl had gone missing. And it was harder to say this one was a runaway.

Whispered rumors were everywhere. A very real fear had taken hold and no one could shake free from it.

People were beginning to suspect that something dangerous was lurking out there.

I didn’t feel this same level of panic, but a paranoia had gripped me. I looked over my shoulder. I checked every deep shadow. I felt eyes on me, even when I was careful. I couldn’t escape the feeling I was being watched.

My life careened recklessly and I couldn’t stop myself from driving head first toward the very obvious brick wall.

I was having the time of my life, and this thread of darkness was bleeding into everything. I hated it.

People realized something might be wrong when Phoebe missed our weekly pledge meeting.

“Someone call her room,” Erica suggested with irritation. We had been waiting twenty minutes for her to show up.

“Why are we waiting on Phoebe anyway? We can start without her,” I proposed, looking at the other girls.

“Because we’re supposed to hold pledge elections, that’s why. We need all of us here,” Erica snapped.

We were meeting in the lounge of Westwood, since several of us lived there and it had the most comfortable couches. Phoebe lived in Marion, another women-only dorm on the other side of campus.

“I’ll call,” Daisy offered, picking up the receiver of the phone on the wall. She waited a few minutes before hanging up. “She’s not answering.”

“Where the hell could she be?” Erica demanded. “It’s not like she has a life.”

“I wouldn’t say that …” Blair piped up, clearly wanting to share something she knew.

Tina was the first one to bite. “What do you mean?”

“So, a couple of weeks ago, I had to pick up some notes from a class I missed. Phoebe said I could copy hers. I didn’t tell her when I’d be by, but thought I’d pop over after hitting the gym,” Blair began. Everyone listened in rapt attention.

I felt bile churn in my stomach, wishing I could think of something to say to stop her. I didn’t want to hear what she was going to say.

“Guys, I don’t think we should be talking about her—” I tried to tell them, but Blair cut me off.

“I knocked on the door. It took forever for her to answer and when she did, she had clearly thrown her clothes on in a hurry. She was all flustered and practically shoved the notes in my hand. But before she could close the door I saw a man in her room.” Blair looked around at all of us, her eyes wide with excitement at sharing a juicy story.

“Who was it?” Daisy asked.

“I swear it was Dr. Daniels,” Blair announced. All the girls gasped in salacious glee and obvious shock at the revelation.

“No way.” Erica snorted.

“That’s pretty ballsy if it was him—to get a booty call in a freshman dorm in the middle of the day,” Tina piped up doubtfully.

“Maybe he gets off on the thrill of almost getting caught. Wouldn’t be the first dirtbag to think that way,” Blair argued.

Melissa Voss, another pledge, smirked. “Are you seriously saying that Phoebe was knocking boots with a professor? Have you met our pledge sister?”

“If this was a couple of weeks ago. Why didn’t you say something before?” Tina raised an eyebrow skeptically.

Blair drew herself upright with indignation. “Because, unlike the rest of you, I’m not a gossip. I don’t spread stuff around that could get someone in trouble.”

“Yet you’re telling us now,” Erica deadpanned.

“Because … because we don’t know where she is and she might be with him,” Blair sputtered.

Daisy rolled her eyes. “I call bullshit. There’s no way our little Phoebes would screw a married professor. That was more Tammy’s MO. That’s the same professor she was banging.” There was a murmur of agreement.

“Girls like Phoebe and Tammy like the attention,” I found myself saying, with a hint of distaste, annoyed by the whole situation. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was best to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself, but I couldn’t stop the words once they started tumbling out.

“Sure, who doesn’t?” Daisy giggled, and a few others laughed with her. She threw her arm around me and gave me a sideways hug.

I shrugged her off after a moment with a pained smile. “Yeah, I guess so.” There was more I wanted to say, but I didn’t dare. Some thoughts were best kept locked up tight.

Nothing else was said about Phoebe and after a few more minutes we voted without her.

Sometimes I called just to hear him tell me I can do this. That mistakes happen and, together, we would fix them.

We had always been a team. Stronger together.

He was my loudest cheerleader. My best friend.

I needed his reassurance that it would all be okay.

I clung to his assertions like they were a life raft. I waited for the day I no longer needed them.

I was growing up. Forging my own path. Eventually, our roads would diverge. I knew he dreaded it as much as I did.

So, for now I called him. And he was always there, as he promised.

It was a pact made with love and tears.

Five days later, Phoebe was officially pronounced a missing person.

Unlike with Tammy, her parents immediately demanded action from the local police department. This was treated as a potential crime from the moment her family was made aware of her disappearance.

I didn’t know who called them, but I assumed it was her roommate. All of the Pi Gamma pledges were interviewed by the police in the weeks leading up to Christmas break, but none of us really knew anything, only gossip.

I was currently nursing a major hangover from a party at the Kappa Epsilon house last night. It had started with some serious pregaming before the Southern State men’s basketball game against Central Carolina and ended with me doing my first keg stand.

“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” The mob around me chanted. They sounded crazed, and I should have been frightened by the intensity of their cheering and screaming, but I wasn’t. I relished it.

I swallowed the last of my beer and tipped the red cup upside down on my head. I felt a couple of drips of warm beer trail down the side of my face as I licked my lips and pumped my fists victoriously.

I grinned as someone took a picture, the flash momentarily blinding me. “I want a copy of that,” I slurred to the girl holding the camera.

The Phi Lam guy I had been having the contest with threw his cup down in annoyance and stormed away, pushing his way through the crowd in frustration. The crowd cheered louder.

I grinned and tossed my cup into the air, not caring where it landed, and then a pair of large, strong arms snaked around my waist, holding me tightly before picking me up and spinning me around. The world blurred as I squealed happily. When I was put back down, I swayed from side to side, unsure if I was going to puke or not. I had never been that drunk before. Everything felt vaguely off kilter. Like I was watching a movie of my life rather than living it.

“Ever done a keg stand?” someone asked. I shook my head, my sweaty hair sticking to my forehead.

“Alright, come on then.” A guy grabbed my hand and dragged me to the other side of the fraternity house’s basement, where the kegs were. The guy, who wasn’t nearly as cute as the boy from Sigma Kap that I met a few weeks ago, leaned in close. “I never knew you were such a party animal. It looks good on you.” His eyes were heated and I felt a stirring low in my gut. It felt a lot like power.

I wasn’t sure if I imagined him kissing my neck, but I shuddered all the same. I knew that this wasn’t me, not really. And somewhere, deep down, the old Jess was shouting at me to stop. That I was ruining everything.

It was time for her to shut up for good.

“Lift me up,” I murmured, giving the guy a seductive smile.

He let out a whoop and then he and one of his brothers hoisted me upside down over the keg nozzle.

Afterward everyone wanted to talk to me—to hang out with me. I was the life of the party. And it felt amazing.

It was the first time I stayed out later than Daisy, who was already asleep by the time I came home. Too drunk to get undressed, I fell asleep on top of my covers. I slept through my alarm, missing my first two classes.

Daisy seemed shocked when she found me still in bed after returning from class at lunchtime. She forced me to go with her to get something to eat, though the thought of food made me want to throw up.

“I told them she was sleeping with Dr. Daniels,” Daisy announced, sipping on her cranberry juice. The Commons was busy and we were sitting together in our usual spot in the middle of the cafeteria. Only this time, one of the chairs was empty.

The silence of Phoebe’s absence was ten times louder than her presence ever had been.

“I did, too,” Blair said. Erica and the others all nodded.

“They needed to know. Because that’s two missing girls who were screwing Dr. Handsy and he should be held accountable,” Daisy stated and I was glad she’d told them.

“They’re probably dead,” Tina announced without an ounce of sensitivity.

Erica glared at our pledge sister. “You can’t go around saying something like that, Tina. If the police thought they were dead, there would be a full-blown investigation or something.”

Tina looked contrite. “Well, I know they took him in for questioning.”

“They questioned us, too, stupid,” Erica scoffed. Now fully chastised, Tina shut her mouth.

“It’s scary, though, right?” Daisy put down her empty carton of juice and looked serious. “I mean, if he did hurt them …”

“I can’t see it. He’s practically an old man!” Blair mocked.

“He’s not that old,” Tina countered. “But, yeah, it’s pretty scary. It goes to show you can’t trust men.”

“Especially good-looking, middle-aged professors.” Tina chuckled, stopping abruptly when Erica glared at her again. “Sorry.”

“But what if it’s not Dr. Daniels. What if …” Daisy paused, a look of pure terror on her face.

“What, Daisy?” Blair whispered. Everyone was on a fearful alert.

“What if it’s … someone else? Someone watching and waiting for us?” There was a collective intake of air.

Not this again.

My head was pounding and this was the last thing I wanted to listen to.

“Come on, Daisy, be real. There’s no one out there preying on college coeds. I think seeing Scream so many times has gone to your head,” I laughed. There was a hard edge to my voice that everyone seemed surprised by.

“Yeah, who’s to say anything happened to them?” Tina agreed, eager, like me, to put this nastiness out of our minds.

Daisy didn’t seem convinced. “I don’t know … things aren’t making sense. Especially with Phoebe …”

I felt the room closing in around me. The drone of voices buzzed like flies in my ears. I needed to get up. I needed to move. My skin was slick with sweat from the alcohol that was trying to leave my system.

“Seriously, that’s enough, Daisy!” I snapped. At my roommate’s shocked—and hurt—expression, I forced myself to calm down. “Stop freaking everyone out, okay? It’s not cool. Go to the health office if you need to talk to someone.”

Erica whistled under her breath and I knew I had crossed a line. Daisy wouldn’t meet my eyes. I had never spoken to her—or anyone —like that.

“Daisy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m just hungover—” I started to say, but she waved a hand, cutting me off.

Daisy’s smile was a little wobbly as she addressed the other girls. “Sorry, guys. I didn’t mean to go all conspiracy theorist on you.”

She glanced at me, her face troubled. I had to fix this, but my headache and nausea, which wasn’t entirely from my hangover, kept me from saying anything.

I stood, needing some space from everything. “I’m going to get a coffee. Anyone want anything?” I glanced at my roommate. “Daisy? Can I get you something? My treat.”

Would she take the olive branch I was extending?

“Uh, yeah, can you grab me another cranberry juice?” Daisy asked a little more normally.

“Of course.” I felt a wave of relief and gave her arm a squeeze. “I know all this stuff about Tammy and Phoebe is worrying,” I said softly, “but I really don’t think we have anything to be concerned about. It’s not like any of us are sleeping around with married men, right?” I straightened and grinned at my pledge sisters, most of whom giggled and smiled back.

“No, thank you. There’s plenty of hot, single men on campus to focus on,” Blair said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

Then the conversation changed and everyone was rating the hottest frat guys. It didn’t take much for them to forget Tammy and Phoebe. To forget the very real pall of dread that had descended over everything.

I hurried to get in line, standing behind a guy with familiar bleached-blonde streaks in his dark hair. As if sensing me, he turned around, our eyes meeting. There was instant recognition.

“You,” he breathed, his full lips spreading into a contagious smile.

I found myself grinning back, thoughts of Phoebe and Daisy’s constant suspicions gone for the moment. “Hey, stranger.”

“I’ve been asking everyone about you. You’re a hard woman to find,” he grumbled good-naturedly.

“You must not have tried very hard. You knew I was a pledge at Pi Gamma Delta,” I teased.

We moved toward the front of the line. I filled a to-go cup with coffee and Mr. Cute grabbed a tray. “I swear, I’ve asked around. My brothers have been no help. I was about to start knocking on every door in Westwood.”

“That would have pissed a few people off,” I laughed.

He took a hamburger and two slices of chocolate cake. The smell of the food made my stomach roil.

“You’re looking a little green around the gills. You okay?” he asked.

“Keg stands on a Wednesday night seemed like a good idea at the time,” I groaned.

“We’ve all been there.” He snapped his fingers. “That was you? I heard about the hot chick doing keg stands at the Phi Lam house last night.”

I flushed with delight. “Oh, you heard about that?”

He snorted. “Every frat guy on campus is talking about how you drank Dave Lingus under the table. I have a feeling you’ll be getting invites to every party until the end of the year.” He reached around me and grabbed a bottle of ginger ale and handed it to me. “Trust me, you’ll need this.”

“Thanks,” I said sincerely.

Once he reached the cash register, he handed the lady his student ID. “I’m paying for both of us.”

“No, that’s not necessary,” I protested.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. What was that?” He purposefully turned away from me while he paid for my drinks. When he was done, he followed me toward the table where I had been sitting with my pledge sisters. We both stopped a few feet away.

“Can I join you guys?” he asked.

“Why?” I suddenly felt nervous.

“Because I like you and want to get to know you more,” he said, uncharacteristically serious.

We stood in the middle of the busy cafeteria, and I stared up at him, at a loss as to what to say. There wasn’t an ounce of shyness about him and his easy confidence was incredibly tempting. And even though I felt awful, being around him was nice.

“My name’s Ryan McKay.” There was that smile again. Charming and sweet.

I glanced at my friends, who weren’t even trying to be discreet as they openly gaped at us. “I’m Jess.”

“Just Jess?” he titled his head, his smile widening.

“Jess Fadley.” I chuckled awkwardly. “So, what now? Do we shake hands? Hug?”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Make out?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Well, you didn’t shoot me down entirely. I take that as a good sign.” He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “You’re giving me hope, Jess. And that’s a dangerous thing.”

Just the sound of his voice so close had my nerve endings on fire. I had a feeling he knew exactly what he was doing. A guy didn’t look like Ryan McKay and not get what he wanted when he wanted it.

It made me feel special that he seemed to want me. And that was my catnip.

I looked over at my pledge sisters again and dreaded the inevitable interrogation if he sat with us. The endless questions, the embarrassing innuendo. I couldn’t deal with all that today. The last thing I wanted was to be the source of discussion.

“I don’t think sitting with us is such a great idea. You seem like a decent guy, Ryan, I can’t throw you to the wolves like that.”

Ryan looked disappointed. “I think I can handle myself.”

“Seriously, maybe another time,” I said quickly before he could move past me toward the table.

Ryan seemed to finally pick up on my hesitation. He glanced again at the table full of my friends. “Fine, but that means you have to give me a raincheck.”

I felt myself relax again, glad he didn’t push it. If he had, I would have inevitably backed down. I was no match for men who wanted something. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

Ryan tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear and grinned. “Says the red flush on your neck.”

I rolled my eyes, but could feel my skin growing hotter. “You really are full of yourself.”

“Sorry to interrupt you guys, but we have to head back to the dorm, Jess,” Daisy called out, clearly trying to get my attention. I didn’t want to keep her waiting, particularly after our earlier disagreement.

“I should get going.”

“Can I get your number? Maybe we can go see a movie tomorrow—”

“I’m leaving to head home for Christmas break first thing in the morning,” I interrupted, my insides tripping over themselves. “But … call me when break is over.”

Ryan put his tray down and fished a piece of paper and a pen from his backpack. I hastily rattled off the number to my room. When he had written it down, he carefully folded it and put it in his pocket, patting it with a smile.

“I’m calling you as soon as we get back.”

“Is that a threat?” He was so easy to talk to. He made me feel as if a regular kind of life was possible.

He leaned in close, his lips deliciously close to my own. “Only if you want it to be.”

Then he walked away. And I was left flustered and full of anticipation. I hoped the feelings would last.

I traveled the normal streets that would lead me home. It would be a short journey, barely enough time to drink my coffee. I should have turned left at the light onto Meadow Lane, then right onto Franklin Boulevard.

Instead I headed straight on Plymouth Avenue, passing the old movie theater with its 1950s style marquee and the empty flower stall outside the florist. All the houses looked the same, having been built in the same cookie-cutter style sometime after the turn of the century. Pale colored siding, dark shutters, four windows, and a door at the front.

I glimpsed the same old buildings I had seen every day of my short life. The still-broken fence in front of my doctor’s office that had blown down in a hurricane three years ago. The overgrown field behind my old elementary school that we used to run through after the last bell.

Plain. Small. Nondescript. Tired. Confined.

Mt. Randall was many things, not many of them good.

I glanced in my rearview mirror at Southern State University sitting proudly on top of its hill.

This town was my whole world. For better or for worse.

I kept driving until I reached the blue sign with its whimsical script. A bright red cardinal sat on the limb of a pine tree above an official goodbye.

‘You are now leaving Mt. Randall. Come back soon!’

I headed out of town.

Five miles later I took a hard left, down a well-worn gravel road flanked on either side by a thicket of trees. The weeds and grass had been flattened by decades worth of tires. It was a recognizable spot, yet hidden.

If you weren’t from Mt. Randall, you’d never find it. But if you were from Mt. Randall, you knew it well.

My car skidded to a stop at the edge of a large meadow. The massive body of water lay still and unmoving. It wasn’t quite large enough to be considered a lake, yet that’s how people around here described it. In actuality though, it was a man-made reservoir that had been there for close to a hundred years.

The water was ringed by an abundance of red-berried Banberry plants, or Doll’s Eyes which they were sometimes called and for which the locals named the lake. In the fall, the berries turned bright white with a black spot in the middle, making them look exactly like creepy little eyeballs. Most people had no idea the pretty plant was, in fact, incredibly poisonous.

Doll’s Eye Lake was a place heavy with shadows, tucked away from the main road. It was easy to see why it had given birth to a number of urban legends over the years. Kids swore it was haunted, daring each other to venture out to the dark trees late at night, hoping to see the apparitions that supposedly lingered there.

Wailing women. Crying children. Angry men.

Anonymous specters waiting to terrify unsuspecting visitors.

And they weren’t the only stories.

In Mt. Randall, adults whispered of bodies wrapped in cloth and weighed down by bricks at the bottom of Doll’s Eye Lake. None—or all—of it could be true. No one knew. But the tales frightened people all the same.

Dad would bring me to the lake when I was little. We’d take our small orange paddle boat out to the center, fishing gear propped between us. He’d tell me to look into the water. He’d ask me if I could see the tops of the houses that were said to be down there.

We’d float along, our fishing lines bobbing lazily. We never caught a thing. But that wasn’t the point. This was our place. Just Dad and me. Mom never came and we stopped going by the time Lindsey came along. But for a few years, it was special to us.

“It’s too heavy,” I complained, dragging my fishing pole in the dirt as I followed Dad to the edge of the lake. He immediately came over and took the yellow pole he had bought me, carrying it to the boat.

“You only have to ask for my help, Jess, and I’ll always be there. I’m your own personal superhero.” He lifted me up, zooming me around like an airplane, making me giggle uncontrollably.

He put me down gently in the paddleboat. “Buckle up your life preserver, sweetheart,” he instructed before pushing the boat into the water and hopping inside, making it teeter precariously.

I shrieked in delighted terror. “Don’t make us fall in, Daddy!”

He sat down and used his arms to balance the boat. “Better?”

He handed me my fishing pole and carefully attached the brightly colored plastic used as a lure. “It’s not real is it?” I asked, peering at the fish hanging from the hook, my lower lip trembling.

He chucked under my chin. “Of course not. It’s just a pretty piece of plastic,” he assured me.

“What will we do if we catch a real fish? Will we have to eat it?” I sounded horrified.

“We’ll throw it back into the water. I promise.” Dad kissed the top of my head and I leaned into him.

“We can’t take the baby fish from her daddy fish!” I exclaimed, not able to think of anything worse than a child being taken away from their father.

Dad looked at me with grave seriousness. “Absolutely not. Baby girl fishes belong with their dads.”

We never caught anything. But that wasn’t the point. I loved spending hours listening to my father’s stories. Hearing his voice, calm and comforting. There was nowhere I’d rather be than by his side. It’s where I thought I would always belong.

I parked my car and sat there for a time, staring out the window, trying to remember what it felt like to be young and carefree. Before life led you down ugly paths and the people you loved twisted into someone unrecognizable.

My heart started beating fast and my breathing became shallow. Tears pricked my eyes and I felt an anger that frightened me.

The wind picked up and I watched the empty branches sway. I had never been scared of Doll’s Eye Lake. I never listened to the tales, and I definitely never believed them. Being at the lake made me feel at peace once upon a time. Even after I had stopped sitting in a paddleboat with my dad, I still came here. Which is why, in my bleakest hour, I came back.

The dark, still water had watched me grow up. It had stood silent witness to the steady passage of time, forever constant. It watched me shed the old Jess like a snake sheds its skin. And then it watched the new Jess emerge.

What did the dark, still water think of her?

I didn’t want to know.

I hated coming here now, but I was compelled all the same. It drew me to its quiet solitude for reasons that were grim and complicated.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I could see a yellow 1965 Boss 429 Mustang parked beyond the tree line. I went still, watching the car … waiting. Acid burned in my stomach, my ears filled with a loud sort of whooshing noise.

Why here?

Rage ripped through my insides like a wildfire. Hate and a desperate sort of love warred against each other in my heart.

I spun the silver ring on my finger, hating the cool feel of it against my skin. I suddenly ripped it off, gripping it in my fist, tempted to hurl it into the lake.

But I didn’t. I shoved it in my pocket instead.

I watched the two people in the car. They were oblivious to everything but each other. They had no idea that anyone else existed.

I felt dead inside.

It was the only comfort I could take.

Ten Seconds to Vanish: The Unsolved Disappearance of Jessica Fadley

Episode 5

Stella: It’s another week, babes, and we are so excited to be here, giving you more piping hot, true crime tea. I’m Stella.

Rachel: And I’m Rachel.

Stella: And this is Ten Seconds to Vanish: The Unsolved Disappearance of Jessica Fadley.

*Theme music plays*

Stella: You’ll never guess who we got a message from on Insta.

Rachel: Ooh, do tell! I know some very famous people have been listening from the tweets I’ve read.

Stella: I know! I can’t quite believe it, but it’s not someone famous … it was actually Stephanie Baker, Phoebe Baker’s sister, who messaged us. She wanted to thank us for bringing light to her sister’s case.

Rachel: Aww, that’s so amazing. And that, right there, is why we are doing this, isn’t that right, Stel?

Stella: Absolutely. These women have been relegated to the shadows for far too long. We’re going to pull their stories kicking and screaming out into the sun. And there are people who won’t like that.

Rachel: What do you mean?

Stella: While the reception we’ve received for our podcast has been overwhelmingly positive, we do get a few messages that are little out there.

Rachel: You’re talking about the “or else” DM.

Stella: Yes, I am. It seems that there’s someone out there who isn’t too happy with the focus being given to our girls. Someone who wanted to let me know that if we knew what’s good for us, we’d shut up or else .

Rachel: It’s so scary.

Stella: I mean, we have to expect messages like that. It’s the modern-day prank call. But, unfortunately for them, we don’t scare easily. You hear that anonymous creeper?

Rachel: Whoever you are, we’re still going to tell this story. We’re going to do all we can to get our girls some justice.

Stella: Well, now that we have that out of the way, let’s have a little chat about sweet, studious, quiet-as-a-mouse Phoebe Baker.

Rachel: It’s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for, Stel.

Stella: You’re absolutely right. Because our sweet, studious Phoebe, like responsible, reliable Tammy, was shagging the same too-friendly neighborhood pervy teacher.

Rachel: Ugh, can we say his name already?

Stella: No, but I really wish we could.