His last memory was of standing in the snow longing for Alyssa and wishing he could give her a New Year’s greeting.
FOUR
June 2005
THE FIRST THING I NOTICED about the chalet was a large family photo that could be spotted a mile away if the front door was open. It featured a picture-perfect family: aristocratic-looking father, pampered wife adorned in jewelry, perfect blonde daughter.
I walked into the main room and turned my head to take in the immense ceiling that curved down toward the deck. The open family room centered around a stone fireplace half the size of my apartment bedroom. The big man I followed waved me toward the L-shaped sofa as he asked if I wanted anything to drink. I told him a soda would be fine.
From where I sat I could see the tops of surrounding mountains waiting for winter to cap them and keep them busy. The cabin felt homey but not quite lived in, a bit too immaculate. It almost seemed as though it should give off a new-car scent.
“Nice getaway, huh?” the host said as he handed me a glass with ice and cola.
“Very nice.”
It had taken me a couple hours to get to this cabin in Breckenridge from my apartment in Colorado Springs. I had declined to answer the first few voice mails from a woman working for Mr. Jelen, then had spoken to her in person but had still decided not to meet with him. Jelen had personally gotten ahold of me at home a week ago. He was used to getting his way.
But it wasn’t his negotiating skills or business bullying that got me standing in his Colorado getaway. It was his dropping the name Alec Tristam.
Gregory Jelen sipped something other than soda and glanced around the cabin, as if just getting acquainted with it himself.
“Do you know the first weekend after they finished building this, my daughter had a party here without my consent? That’s my Claire.”
“Your only daughter?” I asked the obvious.
“My only child. She just turned twenty-one. Supposed to be a senior at the University of Colorado.”
“Good school.”
“A party school for dopeheads and liberals. It wasn’t my choice.”
“My parents didn’t think much of my choice either.”
“Did it work out for you?”
“Not exactly,” I told him with a smile, thinking about the disaster of my freshman year at University of Southern Cal.
Gregory Jelen crossed his leg and rubbed his chin, studying me for a moment. I knew the basic reason why I was here, but I hadn’t agreed to anything. Jelen’s assistant hadn’t given many details.
What I did know was that Mr. Jelen was a wealthy businessman who got his name mentioned in the Forbes 500 list every year. He had begun a technology company that started out making chips and now made parts for everything—PDAs, Ipods, cell phones. I read an article about his blue-collar roots and how he had made himself a multimillionaire. He lived most of the year in New York City, but he owned this chalet and also a beachfront property in Miami.
“So you own your own business?” Jelen asked.
“Yeah. Outdoor Excursions. I started it five years ago.”
“I read on your Web site that you’ve climbed Mount Everest three times.”
I nodded, thinking of my big claim to fame. I wondered how much he had heard. “We’ve taken one expedition up there. The first two times were just for myself.”
“What’s it like standing on top of the world?”
I laughed. “Honestly, the first time I almost couldn’t make it. You can be in the best physical condition of your life and still get beaten up on a climb like that. The first time I didn’t even appreciate it. But it looks good on a résumé.”
“It certainly does. How is business?”
“It’s fair,” I said, not being fully honest.
Business in the last year had tapered off, and bills had risen. After the accident a year ago, it was easy to understand why. That was why I was in this room and not on the side of a mountain or taking a trek in the jungle.
“Well, look, let me get down to the reason you’re here. Thanks for driving, by the way. How long did it take you?”
“Couple hours. No big deal.”
Mr. Jelen looked serious, his strong jawline tightening as he sat silently for a moment. He was one of those men who thought before he spoke, a trait nobody would ever accuse me of.
“As you know, my daughter disappeared in January. She should have graduated by now, but instead she vanished. At first we thought she was a missing person, but investigators discovered she had disappeared with a guy named Alec Tristam. For months we’ve tried to find her.”
“You involve the cops?”
“We’ve involved everyone we possibly could. She’s an adult; she can do what she wants. Of course we were relieved to hear that nothing had happened to her—but we still want to know where she is.”
“And you have no leads?”
“We know that Claire met Alec last summer while she spent time at our place in Miami. She went back there over winter break and never came back.”
“Alec was in Miami?” I asked.
“You didn’t know that?”
I chuckled. “Mr. Jelen, I haven’t seen Alec since college.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. But you said you had heard from him a couple times since graduation.”
“Just once. He left me a message earlier this year.”
This piqued Jelen’s interest. “What’d he say?”
“Nothing, really. Just called to say hi.”
I wasn’t about to mention Carnie, especially to a stranger.
“You never knew where he was living?”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t surprise me that he was living in Miami. Nothing would surprise me about Alec.”
“What was he like?”
I shrugged and took a sip of my soda. “He was fun. Crazy. A bad influence. But I was a lot different back then.”
“How so?”
“I just needed to grow up,” I said, a simple answer that didn’t begin to sum up the truth.
“He’s your age, right?”
“Yeah. Thirty-four.”
“Why did Alec leave college a week before graduation?”
I looked at Mr. Jelen to see if this was an honest question or if he was trying to bait me. He probably knew more about Alec’s history than I did. But I was sure there were a few details he didn’t know.
“He wouldn’t have graduated anyway,” I said.
“But he disappeared, right?”
“Alec was good at disappearing. He’d done it once before that year. Have you checked with his family?”
His nod said Of course we did. And if he was talking with me now, they had surely exhausted most of their resources.
“I don’t know anything more than what I initially told your assistant. Alec’s father lives somewhere around the Indiana-Illinois border. His mother lives—or used to live—somewhere in Florida. That’s probably what he was doing in Miami.”
“That’s correct.”
“I’m sure you know tons more than I do, Mr. Jelen. I haven’t seen him in eleven years.”
“I believe you can help me.”
“How? What do you want me to do?”
“I would like for you to find him,” Mr. Jelen said with eyes that didn’t blink and didn’t move off mine. “I will pay you to find Alec. And my daughter.”
“You’re sure they’re together?”
The man, dressed in khaki dress pants and a light blue button-down shirt that probably cost more than my last month’s earnings, nodded again.
“If you haven’t been able to find him, why do you think I can?”
“You’re his friend. You can talk to some of your other college buddies.”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen any of them.”
“This could be a reunion. I hear you didn’t go to the ten-year anniversary last year.”
I was beginning to get annoyed at how much this guy knew.
“I don’
t think many people went.”
“We spoke with a few of your friends, but they were resistant to help at all.”
“Really? Like who?”
“Bruce Atkinson. Franklin Gotthard. Mike Fennimore.”
“You talked to all of them?”
“Someone did.”
It didn’t surprise me that none of them wanted to help this guy. If they didn’t know where Alec was, then what else were they going to do? What else could they say?
College was eleven years ago. We had left those times and memories behind. At least I had.
“Mr. Jelen—if I knew anything more about Alec, I’d help you, but—”
“This is my offer. Go see all of your college friends. Ask them about any details related to Alec—if they’ve seen him in the last few years, what they know about him, anything. Be an investigator for a few weeks. Give me whatever information you learn.”
“I can’t just take off a few weeks.”
Mr. Jelen nodded, and I suddenly realized he probably knew how business had been going for me.
“How does fifty thousand dollars sound?”
I let out a laugh. “Uh, great.”
“I’ll give you that up front to work for me.”
“You serious? For how long?” I asked, suddenly numb at this offer. I hadn’t made fifty thousand dollars last year.
“I want you to turn up every lead possible.”
“But if I don’t find him—”
“I’ll give you the money up front. And will pay for all travel expenses.”
“Just to—just to go see my old buddies?”
Mr. Jelen bent over and picked up a leather book from the table between us. He handed it to me.
“These are photos of Claire,” he told me as I began looking through it.
His daughter was a pretty blonde who looked as if she had taken after him in height. She had a defined jawline and could be a model. I thumbed through the photos.
“I just want to find my daughter again and know that she’s safe. You’re one of my last resorts.”
I put the album down. “I just—I don’t want to take this job—and your money—only to tell you I still don’t have a clue.”
“Your friends know more than they’re telling,” Mr. Jelen said. “I know that. I think you know that too.”
“And you think they’ll tell me?”
“I know they will. You were the one everybody talked about. The one they asked about. Jake Rivers. The infamous Jake Rivers.”
“I don’t buy that.”
“Yes, you do. You and Alec were close. You two were the ringleaders.”
“That doesn’t mean I’ll find him.”
“If anybody can, it’s you.”
I put my glass down on the table and stood up. “Look, I appreciate this … this offer. Really. But I just … I can’t.”
“Jake, please,” Jelen began to say before I interrupted him.
“I can’t. Not now, not after all this time.”
There are certain things you don’t know and will never know.
“I don’t know where else to turn.”
“If you haven’t found him, I have no idea how I will be able to.”
Mr. Jelen stood and faced me with an intense stare. “I think you should really consider this opportunity,” he said, his tone suddenly different.
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning there was a lot I learned about Alec and his friends during college. A lot of very interesting information.”
I stared at him. “What are you saying?”
“I know what happened to Paul Carnigan. What happened before you graduated. Why the police were so interested in all of you.”
I stood, momentarily frozen, looking at him, waiting to hear what else he would say.
“There were some interesting things I discovered, stuff people might be interested in. You see—I don’t believe people just ‘disappear.’”
I knew exactly what he was saying. What he was really saying. This was no longer a simple request. It was blackmail.
“If I try to find your daughter and can’t, do I know if—”
“Then at least I’ll know we tried. You’ll still have your money. And I won’t ask anything of you.”
“There’s a lot you probably don’t know about college,” I said.
“I’m sure there is. And I don’t care about any of that. Jake—listen to me. I just want to know where my daughter and your friend disappeared to. That’s all I want.”
I nodded and said I would get back to him in a day or two with an answer.
But he had already made my decision for me. It was that simple.
FIVE
January 1994
THE SNOWFLAKES ON the sidewalk were light enough to brush aside with an errant swoop of the leg. Jake was heading across the courtyard to return an overdue book he had found just yesterday under his bed. It was only a month overdue. It gave him a reason to visit the campus and check his mailbox, along with other things.
One of those other things, perhaps the only other thing that really mattered, he found in the library. It was a lucky guess. He saw her sitting at a table reading, of all things.
“Please tell me you’re not doing homework,” he said.
The deliberate eyes regarded him for a moment. “Please tell me you’re not actually checking out a book.”
“And if I were?”
“The universe as I know it might be in serious jeopardy.”
“No need to fear,” he said. “Just returning a book.”
“I like the eye,” Alyssa noted. “Very macho.”
“I did that for the yearbook photo. When are those again?”
“They were in November.”
Jake feigned disappointment as he nodded and tightened his lips. “Working over the holidays?” he asked.
“Not till next semester.”
He looked at the book sitting open on the table. “Middlemarch?”
“Reading can be fun.”
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the chair facing her.
“No, thanks.”
“No, thanks? You make it sound like I’m selling something.”
“It’s that big grin on your face. I don’t trust grins like that.”
He laughed. Even after all these years and all these conversations and even that one memorable date, he still couldn’t figure this girl out. Every time he thought there might be something, anything, between the two of them, the door would shut and he would get a comment like No, thanks.
Jake sat down anyway. “We don’t have to be quiet, do we?”
“It’s a library.”
“We’re on winter break.”
“Aren’t you always on a break?”
Jake laughed again and admired her flawless complexion. Alyssa was one of those girls who simply never got a pimple, period. He looked scraggly with several days’ worth of beard and unruly hair and that nice, attractive shiner to gaze at.
“I remember the day I first met you.”
“The driving-on-the-soccer-field incident?”
“Oh, come on. How could you forget?”
“That’s right. The panther.” She rolled her eyes.
“People don’t give me enough credit for taking a five hundred-pound cement panther.”
“I think that makes you so very cool.”
She picked up her book to resume reading.
“I only got suspended for a week.”
“Only?”
“It was worth it.”
“Taking the heat for your friends,” Alyssa said, her soft voice so articulate and formal. “Such nobility.”
“It was destiny, you know.”
“What?”
“My running into you.”
“That sounds like such a romantic notion,” Alyssa said.
“Well, if you say so …”
“I would say it was inevitable. Working in the dean’s office, meeting a fine, reputable student such as
yourself.”
Jake shook his head as she started reading again. “What is it about me that you hate so much?”
Alyssa’s dark eyes darted back to him. A slight smile wrinkled her lips. “Hate is a strong word.”
“Okay, dislike then.”
“That black eye, for one thing.”
“I know—it’s pretty ugly.”
“It’s something drunken frat boys get on the weekends.”
“Providence doesn’t allow fraternities.”
“Oh, really?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “I thought that’s what your apartment was.”
“You know, you only have one more semester left to mock me.”
“But you have the rest of your life to live with yourself.”
“I’m pretty happy with myself,” Jake said.
“Bravo for you.”
He held back his retort.
Deep down, he knew something was there. That was what the college experience was like, why it differed from everything else he had known and might ever know. You spent so much time with classmates and roommates that relationships inevitably grew beyond simple friendship or acquaintance. Deep in the heart of night in a popcorn-smelling study room—or the smoky recesses of a loud bar—truths came out. And he remembered the time Alyssa almost admitted to something being there.
Jake decided to call a truce. For today. “As always, it was a pleasure, Miss Roberts.”
“Stay away from big jocks,” Alyssa said as he walked away from the table.
When he got back to his car, he realized he still had the library book in his hand.
On the drive back home, snow falling steadier now, he recalled their first meeting.
Jake had walked into the office of the Dean of Students fully expecting to be kicked out of college.
“I’m here to see Ms. Peterson,” he told the longhaired brunette behind the desk.
She gave him a knowing, courteous smile and looked down at the planner on the desk. “She’s with another appointment. You’re down for 10:45.”
Jake was fifteen minutes early, a first so far for anything at Providence College.
“I can wait.” He gestured toward the closed door to the office. “Anybody I know?”
She smiled politely but didn’t answer.
“Do you go here?” he asked.
She nodded again, still smiling. Her red sweater looked striking with her dark hair and eyes.
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