Pamela Frost Dennis - Murder Blog 01 - Dead Girls Don't Blog

by Pamela Frost Dennis

  “Or mine,” Jake said, feeling a tingle of hope. “How long do we keep him in a hotel room?”

  “Until we can make him understand what’s at stake. That he has to stay sober. Forever. We’ll get him to check into rehab, join AA, threaten to tell his parents, whatever it takes.”

  Phil snatched his backpack from his bed and placed it by the door. “I’ll pack some clothes for Erik, while you get your stuff. Then you bring your car to the front of the house. I don’t want to carry him any further than we have to.”

  “At least no one here will think anything of it. They’re used to him.”

  Phil pulled the top drawer of Erik’s dresser open and grabbed boxers and t-shirts. As he jammed them into a duffel bag, Jake suddenly yelped, “Shit, shit, shit!”

  Phil spun around and saw the cause of Jake’s outburst. Erik’s body shook violently and his head was bent at an odd angle, slamming the wall behind his bed. His eyes rolled up and his bladder released as his limbs continued to thrash uncontrolled.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Jake hovered over Erik, afraid to touch him.

  “He’s having a seizure.” Phil pushed in front of Jake and tried to hold Erik’s body still. “Help me pull him down and get his head away from the wall before he knocks himself out.”

  Jake made no move to help.

  “Please. He could bite his tongue off if we don’t help him!”

  “No, no way,” Jake backed away and stood with his arms folded across his chest, his face set in stony resolution. “And too bad if he bites his tongue off; at least then he can’t talk.”

  Phil straightened up from Erik, gaping at Jake. “Are you kidding?” He turned back to Erik. “Shit! He’s puking again! I need to get him on his side or he’ll choke.” He grasped Erik’s jerking shoulders and tried to pull his head away from the wall. A flailing arm knocked him sideways and he lost his footing, tripping over a skateboard on the floor, and hitting his temple hard against Erik’s desk. For several moments Phil lay stunned on the floor, unable to move. When he recovered, Jake was hovering over Erik, grunting with exertion as he pinned the boy’s writhing shoulders to the mattress. Erik sputtered as beige, chunky vomit gurgled and pooled in his mouth.

  “What’re you doing? He’s choking! ” Phil scrambled to his feet and struggled to push Jake away from Erik, but the muscular wrestler was stronger and blocked Phil’s attempts. “Please, Jake. Please stop.” He clenched his fists. “Oh God, this is so wrong.”

  As Erik’s tremors weakened, Jake released his hand on Erik’s right shoulder and pinched the boy’s nostrils shut. Erik’s glassy eyes opened wide as he fought to inhale oxygen, but instead sucked the sour vomit deep into his throat, blocking his esophagus.

  Phil tried again to force Jake aside, but Jake angled his solid body over Erik, giving him no opening, and held fast. “Jake! You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing. He murdered Lindsay, destroyed our lives, threatened our families. Enough is enough.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Friday, May 17

  1996

  Angela was seated on a well-worn brown leather couch in Police Chief Paul Arnold’s office. Her case notes were spread over the oak coffee table.

  “We need answers fast,” he said. “Unsolved Mysteries has contacted us and wants to do a segment on Lindsay.”

  Angela was surprised. “The TV show? I thought they only went after cold cases.”

  “So did I, but evidently they’ve been getting a lot of calls from our local citizens who’ve lost faith in us.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Chief. We’ve followed up on every lead and we’re nowhere.”

  “The last thing we need right now is a camera crew getting in the way of our investigation,” said Chief Arnold.

  Angela nodded in agreement. “And I don’t want to be wasting my time babysitting those people.”

  “I’ll do my best to stall them, but if the local press gets wind of this, it could blow up in our faces. Could look like I’m impeding justice.”

  “So we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t.”

  “Pretty much. The girl was drugged and raped at a party and then later abducted. Come on. How in the hell can there be no witnesses?” Chief Arnold had asked this question umpteen times over the last two weeks.

  “Oh, trust me there were witnesses, at least at the party, but they were too drunk or too stoned to realize what they saw. But no one seeing her abducted at the school did surprise me, so a few days ago I went to the school at the same time Lindsay disappeared and, yes, I can see how it could have happened. I saw one kid getting into a car at the other end of the lot but no one else.”

  “It would be nice if there was money in the school budget for security cameras,” said Chief Arnold.

  Angela laughed. “It’d be nice if there was money in the budget for art classes, or driver’s education, or—”

  He held up his hands in submission. “I hear you.”

  “Chief, we’ve talked to practically every kid in this town,” Angela continued in a composed tone she didn’t feel. “Every frat house, sorority, dorm, the high school. No one has given us anything concrete we can go on.”

  The chief got up from the sofa and stretched his long legs. “And her friends? Still nothing there?”

  “Actually, there has been some further enlightenment as to why we have not been able to get a straight answer from those two.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can give you the abbreviated version or you can listen to my last interview with Jenny Farrell.” Angela pointed at the small tape recorder she’d placed on the coffee table when she first entered the office.

  “I want to hear it.” He sat down and unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie.

  Angela pressed the play button and her recorded voice filled the office.

  “All right Jenny, let’s go back to the beginning.”

  “You mean, when we picked up Lindsay at her house or when we went for pizza?”

  “When you went for pizza.”

  “Okay.” An audible sigh was heard and then Jenny spoke. “We went to the pizza place, next to the movie theatre, and after we got in line, Mallory said she had to go to the bathroom and told me to come with her. Lindsay held our place in line. In the bathroom, Mallory took a joint out of her purse and told me it would make the food taste way better.”

  Jenny’s father interrupted. “Are you kidding? I hope for your sake, you said no.”

  Angela hit pause. “I thought I was going to lose her right then and there, but she was determined to tell her story.” She pressed play again.

  “Dad, it’s not like it can really hurt you…right? So I decided to try it. I only took a few puffs. It really burned, and I didn’t like it, and I swear I’ll never do it again. But I didn’t tell Lindsay because I knew she wouldn’t approve.”

  Her father said, “That’s because she’s got more brains than you.”

  “Let’s continue,” said Angela.

  “There was some cute boys in line, and they invited us to a party. Mallory wanted to go, but me and Lindsay didn’t. Mallory said it would be cool and told me I was acting like a baby. I didn’t want the boys to think I was a kid, so I said okay.”

  Angela stopped the recording and said, “At this point, she broke down. Since she said nothing coherent, I’ll fast-forward.”

  Angela pressed fast-forward and let it spin to the spot she was seeking. She pressed play.

  “How did you get to the party?” asked Angela.

  “You already know that from the last time we talked.”

  “Tell me again.”

  “We walked, but I don’t remember what way we went. I was really nervous about going to the party and about smoking the joint. I was trying to act normal so Lindsay wouldn’t know, but I felt super dizzy and my chest really hurt. When we got there, there were tons of people there, and I felt stupid ‘cause they were all way olde
r than us. A nice boy showed us where to get drinks and food and then I had to go pee. When I was in the bathroom, Mallory knocked on the door, and I let her in. I had a real bad headache and felt kind of sick, and she said she had some medicine that would get rid of it, so I took it.”

  “What?” shouted Jenny’s father. “She hands you a pill, and you just take it, without asking what it was?”

  “I thought it was headache medicine, like Tylenol. She said it would make me feel better.”

  “What was it?” asked Angela.

  Jenny’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Ecstasy.”

  “Turn that thing off,” demanded Farrell.

  “Please, Mr. Farrell. Lindsay’s missing out there somewhere,” said Angela. “We need to know everything that happened that night.”

  “Do we need a lawyer present? Jenny just admitted to using illegal drugs, for God’s sake.”

  “Please, Daddy.” Jenny was sobbing. “I know I screwed up big-time.”

  “How do you know it was ecstasy?” asked Angela.

  “She told me.”

  “When did she tell you?”

  “Right after I swallowed it. She thought it was funny. I got really scared then.”

  “I swear I am going to kill that girl!” screamed her father. “Feel free to arrest her, for all I care.”

  Angela said quietly. “Jenny, what happened next?”

  “I got scared, and I didn’t want Lindsay to know, so I didn’t go back to her. After a while my stomach felt weird and rumbly, but then I started feeling really good. Like really, super happy. I felt totally awesome.”

  “That’s it. I’m going in the other room,” snapped Farrell. “I can’t listen to any more of this crap.”

  “Daddy, I am so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Well, Jenny, that’s not exactly true, is it? You knew you smoked pot. And you knew you took ecstasy.” His voice faded as he left the room. “And you knew all of this from the beginning but chose not to tell anyone until now.”

  “I’m sorry!” she screamed.

  “Too little, too late!” he yelled from the next room. “This is going to kill your mother.”

  “God, I really screwed up,” Jenny said. “My parents will never forgive me.”

  Angela waited for Jenny to compose herself. “Tell me what happened next, Jenny.”

  “I’m not really sure. I was dancing and having fun. Then I kinda remember feeling super cold, and my jaw clenched up, and my headache came back really bad. I don’t even remember going home.” There was a pause. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you this before. I was really scared. Will I have to go to juvie?”

  Angela turned off the machine.

  “Well, shit,” said the chief. “This just gets better and better, doesn’t it?”

  THIRTY

  Tuesday, May 21

  1996

  Erik’s death was ruled accidental and for the first time in over two weeks, Phil slept through the night at his parents’ house and woke with a ravenous appetite. He found his mom in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee at the kitchen table and reading the newspaper.

  “Morning, Mom.”

  Penny glanced up from the paper. “Well, good morning to you too, sleepyhead.”

  Phil poured himself a cup of coffee. “I thought I’d make some breakfast. Want some?”

  “Breakfast sounds great.”

  Penny pulled the newspaper closer. “Still no leads on Lindsay Moore’s disappearance,” she read aloud. She looked up from the paper. “The TV Show, Unsolved Mysteries, wants to do a segment.”

  “You’re kidding. Here in Santa Lucia?” Phil’s hand started shaking and he carefully set his mug on the counter with two hands.

  “That show’s had a lot of success solving crimes and we can use all the help we can get. Lindsay could be anywhere by now. Maybe brainwashed in some cult like the Moonies, for all we know. But a nationally televised show might actually help to jog someone’s memory. I’m sure everyone on the central coast would be watching.” She sipped her coffee. “The sad reality is, in all likelihood she’s lying dead somewhere out there and her mother will never know what happened to her.”

  Penny saw the stunned look on Phil’s face. She knew Erik’s death weighed heavily on him and talking about Lindsay had stirred that up again.

  “Honey, I’m sorry. I realize how terribly hard these last few days have been. Losing your friend so suddenly.” She shook her head, biting her lower lip. “I can’t even begin to imagine what Erik’s folks are going through. But you’ve got to realize there was nothing you could have done.” She got up and hugged him. “And I know this girl’s attack and disappearance has affected you, too. You can’t help it. You’re a caring person.” She pulled away and looked into Phil’s eyes, smiling gently. “At least Erik’s parents will have closure.”

  Phil could not meet his mother’s eyes. I thought it would stop with Erik’s death, but it isn’t. And her mother needs to know.

  In his bedroom, Phil picked up his flip-phone and pressed Jake’s speed-dial number. After a few rings, it went to voicemail. Relieved he didn’t have to speak directly to Jake, who surely would have tried to talk him out of it, he said, “Jake, it’s Phil. Listen, man, I’m really sorry about this, but I’m going to tell my parents. I can’t live a lie anymore. I’m so sorry.” He shut his phone and laid his head on the desk.

  “Phil?”

  He lifted his head and saw his mother standing in the doorway, holding a stack of folded towels.

  “What was that all about?” she quietly asked.

  “What do you mean?” He didn’t want to tell her like this.

  “I heard you say you’re going to tell us something. That you can’t live a lie anymore.” She entered the room and sat on his bed, still clutching the towels.

  “Please call Dad to come home. I need to talk to both of you.”

  “Phil, you’re scaring me.” Penny’s eyes welled up with tears. “What is it?”

  Penny and Adam sat with Phil at the kitchen table, waiting for him to tell them the dreadful thing that was bothering him. Phil was still uncertain. If he did this, everything would change forever. Then he remembered that Unsolved Mysteries wanted to do a segment about Lindsay. Sooner or later, he was going to get caught. In the end, it would be better for everyone if he turned himself in now.

  His mother said, “Phil, whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”

  “Your mother’s right. You’re a young man with your whole life ahead of you. Just tell us what’s wrong and we’ll deal with it.” Adam took a breath, exhaled, and forced himself to ask the words no parent ever wants to ask. “Phil, did you get a girl pregnant?”

  Penny groaned. “Oh, my God. Is that it? You got someone pregnant?”

  Phil smacked the table in frustration. “No one is pregnant.”

  They waited for Phil to continue and he forced the life-altering words out, “I know where Lindsay Moore is.”

  “How do you know? Who told you?” Penny shoved her chair back and stood up. “We have to call Angela and get that girl home.”

  Adam watched Phil’s reactions. “Penny, stop. Sit down.” He spoke slowly. “Phil, how do you know where Lindsay is?”

  Phil swallowed hard, fighting the bile crawling up his esophagus. “Because I put her there.”

  “What do you mean?” his father said softly. “Are you saying you’re hiding her?”

  Penny clutched at Phil’s arm. “Why would you be hiding her? Why?”

  He pulled his arm from her grasp and put his trembling hands in his lap. “May I have a glass of water, please?”

  Adam went to the sink, poured a tall glass of water, and placed it in front of him. Phil took a shaky sip.

  His father sat down. “Why don’t you start at the beginning.”

  Phil told them every sordid, damning detail. He told the story straightforward with no attempt to sugarcoat his participation in the crimes. Throughout the long narrative, his parents rema
ined silent, except for his mother’s suppressed sobs and hiccups. Tears rolled down Adam’s face unchecked, his face was flushed and a vein twitched on his forehead as he stared at his son. The only thing Phil held back was Jake suffocating Erik.

  Phil had not seen his father cry since he had been a child and was in the ER, suffering an asthma attack. When he finished speaking, he waited for their response. They were stunned, speechless.

  “Please say something,” Phil said.

  After a time, his mother spoke. “Why, Phil? For the love of God, why?” her voice choked. “Why would you tell us something like this? It can’t be true. It just can’t be.”

  Adam rose from the table and went to the sink. “I don’t even know you.” He poured a glass of water and brought it to Penny.

  “You didn’t mean to do it,” cried his mother. “It was a terrible accident. You’re not a bad boy.” Her voice cracked and she wiped her streaming eyes with a paper napkin. “It’s not your fault. You’re a good boy.” She pounded the table with clenched fists, screaming, “You’re a good boy. You’ve always been a good boy.”

  Adam crouched by her chair and held her until the storm passed. Phil had never seen his father show such deep love for her. He knew he had broken their hearts.

  Adam straightened and stated in a dead, defeated tone, “We’ll need a lawyer. I’ll make some calls, and then you’ll have to turn yourself in.”

  “Wait!” Penny grabbed his hand. “Why does he have to turn himself in? What good will it do? It won’t bring Lindsay back, and you know he didn’t mean to do it. Look at your son, Adam! He’s already suffering.”

  “Phil has to do the right thing. He knows it; that’s why he told us.” Adam turned to leave the room.

  Penny stood up and clutched his arm. “Please. Please don’t call.”

  He took her sagging body in his arms and spoke gently. “I’m not calling the police, Penny. I’m calling the lawyer. Do you want to lie down?”