by Jana DeLeon
Tara stared at her, her expression saying that she wanted to believe Shaye but was afraid to. “I can’t pay you,” Tara said, and sniffed. “I mean, I have like sixty dollars, but nothing like what you probably charge.”
“Let’s worry about all of that later. Right now, just concentrate on finding Ethan.” Shaye waved her hand at the chair.
Tara rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and sat down again, dropping her backpack beside the chair. Shaye’s laptop was at Corrine’s house, so she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.
“I need to get as much information as I can from you about Ethan, okay?” Shaye asked.
Tara nodded and Shaye launched into a series of questions about Ethan’s physical address, his deceased parents’ names, his dorm mate, his class schedule, his acquaintances, and anything else she thought would help her form a mental picture of the missing young man.
“Did he work?” Shaye asked.
“No. He said he would try to get an internship at an accounting firm junior year, but he wasn’t planning on working until then.”
“How did he pay for school, dorm fees, food?”
“His parents had a bit of insurance. Not much, but he said it would pay his living expenses through college if he got a part-time later on.”
“And his tuition?”
“Full scholarship. Ethan is really, really smart. Scary smart.”
“His roommate said he went for a soda…what time was that and where would he normally go for that kind of thing?”
“I was there all afternoon and evening. Brett, his roommate, said he went out about nine that night. There’s a convenience store behind the dorm.”
“So he wouldn’t have driven.”
Tara shook her head. “It would take just as long to get out of the parking lot and go around the one-ways as it would to go out of the dorm the back way and cut across the vacant lot to the store.”
Shaye had been by the university dorms several times and was pretty sure she knew the area Tara was describing. But she couldn’t think of a single reason that a shy, nerdy boy with only one friend would disappear. If he’d been mugged, then he’d be in the hospital, either in a bed or in the morgue. But since he wasn’t in either, that meant only one of two things—either Ethan Campbell had intentionally vanished or someone had taken him.
“Is there anyone who would want to hurt Ethan?” Shaye asked.
“Why? He wouldn’t harm a fly.”
“Emotionally disturbed people aren’t always logical. Maybe Ethan made someone angry by breaking the curve in class.” Shaye didn’t really think that was enough of a reason to make a classmate disappear, but given her own past, she refused to ignore any possibility, even the fantastic.
Tara frowned and looked down at the floor. Shaye knew that look. She’d seen it time and time again during her fraud investigations at her previous job. There was something Tara wasn’t telling her. Chances were it didn’t mean anything. Maybe it was silly or embarrassing, but whatever it was, Shaye needed to know. Sometimes the things that seemed the least important were the most important.
“Tell me,” Shaye said quietly.
“You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Ethan got this text a couple weeks ago. There was some sort of strange code thing, then the message said that he had forty-eight hours to decipher the code and save the girl or he’d be next. There was also a picture of a girl. She looked like she was sleeping or passed out maybe. I don’t know.”
“Did you or Ethan recognize the girl?”
“No, but then last week, everyone was talking about that dead girl who was found in a funeral home casket. You saw it on the news, right?”
Shaye shook her head. “I’ve been out of the country for a couple months. I just got back last night.”
“They said some sorority girl got drunk and crawled into a coffin at the funeral home. Probably a prank or dare or some other nonsense they’re all about, but apparently, it closed and she couldn’t get out so she suffocated.”
“That’s horrible, but what does that have to do with the text?”
“Ethan was convinced the girl in the text was the girl in the coffin.”
Shaye frowned. “What did you think?”
“I don’t know…I mean they were both young and had brown hair with highlights, but the girl in the text didn’t have on makeup and the picture on the news did. They didn’t look much alike to me but I could have been wrong.”
“And neither you nor Ethan knew the girl in the coffin?”
“It’s a big school and we didn’t exactly run in the same circles.”
Tara looked down at the floor as she delivered that sentence, and Shaye immediately understood what she was saying. The sorority girl wasn’t the kind who would hang out with Tara and Ethan.
“I don’t suppose Ethan forwarded the text to you?” Shaye asked.
Tara shook her head. “You don’t think there’s something to it, do you? I mean, I figured the whole text thing was some sort of prank and they got the wrong number. Oh God! What if Ethan was right? What if someone put that girl in a coffin because Ethan didn’t go looking for her? I told him it was a joke. What if he could have saved her? What if the same people have him now?”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Shaye said, trying to calm the girl down. “We don’t know that it’s the same girl, and we don’t know that the text was meant for Ethan or that it was serious. I think your original assumption that it was a prank is far more likely.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
She wasn’t lying, exactly. It was far more likely that the text was a misdirected prank, but Shaye couldn’t ignore the niggling at the back of her mind or the unsettling of her stomach. She hoped that it turned out to be nothing.
But she wouldn’t bet on it.
5
Shaye locked her apartment and headed to her car. So far, she’d managed to escape observation, but she knew that wouldn’t last forever. Before the media caught wind that she was back, she wanted to talk to Ethan’s roommate and locate whoever was working at the convenience store Sunday night. Tara said Ethan’s roommate, Brett, often skipped class in favor of sleeping, so she figured she’d try the dorms first in case Brett was still in residence.
Ethan’s room was located on the back side of the building on the first floor. Shaye heard music playing inside and knocked on the door. After several seconds, she knocked again. She heard movement and finally the door opened and a half-asleep linebacker-looking guy opened the door and peered out at her through half-slit eyes.
“Brett Frazier?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Shaye held up her identification. “I’m a private investigator. I’d like to ask you some questions about Ethan Campbell.”
Her words seemed to jolt him out of the twilight zone. His eyes widened and he stepped back, allowing her to enter.
“You’re a PI? For real?” he asked.
“Very real.” She scanned the small room, easily discerning Brett’s space from Ethan’s. One side held a neatly made bed and a desk with a laptop and a bookshelf full of books. The other side probably held a bed, but it was hidden under piles of dirty laundry, blankets, and pizza boxes. The desk contained empty sports drink cans and a stack of DVDs.
“When was the last time you saw Ethan?” Shaye asked.
“Sunday. He said he was going for a soda.”
“And you haven’t seen or heard from him since?”
Brett shook his head. “Are you telling me he’s really missing? That girl wasn’t just being all drama?”
“As far as I know, you are the last person to see Ethan. He isn’t in local hospitals, hasn’t contacted anyone, and has no family or friends he could be staying with. I’d say that constitutes missing.”
“Damn.” Brett flopped onto the stack of blankets and scratched the top of his buzz-cut head. “I figured it was bullshit, you know?”<
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“Did Ethan have a drinking problem or a girlfriend?”
“God no. Neither. Ethan is a total geek.”
“Then why would his disappearance be bullshit? He doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who’d leave without telling anyone unless you think he’s pulling a prank.”
“On who? Dude didn’t have any friends except that drama chick.” He stared at her for a bit, looking puzzled. “Oh! I get it. You’re thinking there’s no reason for him to disappear, so it couldn’t be bullshit.”
“Probably not. Does Ethan have any enemies?”
“Not that I know of, but we don’t exactly have the same interests.”
“I imagine not. Has Ethan mentioned anyone bothering him recently?”
Brett shook his head. “This ain’t high school. I mean, it was cool to pick on geeky kids then, but you gotta grow up sometime.”
Shaye cast another glance around the room. “Of course. Would you mind if I look through Ethan’s things?”
“I don’t care. Hey, do you think something happened to him?”
“Well, if he has no reason to be missing, but he is, then I think that’s a good bet.”
Brett blew out a breath. “That’s heavy.”
“Definitely.” Shaye pulled a business card out of her purse and handed it to Brett. “If you think of anything or hear anything around campus, let me know.”
“Yeah, sure.” He looked at the card, then looked her up and down. “Hey, are you doing anything this Friday, because there’s this party and it would be totally cool if I brought you.”
Shaye wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or amused, and finally settled on both. “I’m afraid that won’t work for me.”
“Boyfriend, huh? All the hot girls already have boyfriends.”
“Something like that. Thanks for your help.”
“Yeah, no problem. I guess I should get something to eat and maybe go to class. Hey, what day is this?”
“Tuesday.”
“Crap. Tuesday is history. Maybe I’ll just do the eating part.” He dug his wallet out from under a stack of candy wrappers. “I hope you find Ethan. He’s a pretty decent guy, I mean, considering.”
He gave Shaye a half wave and left the dorm room. Shaye went straight to Ethan’s desk and opened his laptop. The password box came up and she drummed her fingers on the desk for a bit. Maybe she should call Tara. She might know Ethan’s password. Then a thought occurred to her and she typed in “Tara.” Just because Tara wasn’t into Ethan didn’t mean Ethan wasn’t into Tara.
The screen flashed and then opened to the desktop. Shaye checked his Internet search history and email, then moved into his stored files and located the ones accessed in the past two weeks.
Calculus homework, Biology homework, English homework, Astronomy homework, Calc homework.
She stopped and frowned. Why were there two entries for calculus? Two assignments maybe? But the naming system seemed strange. Why not name the files by date assigned or due date? Why abbreviate one and not the other? For someone as organized as Ethan appeared to be, it didn’t seem like a logical choice.
She opened the first file and scanned through the Excel spreadsheet of calculations and notations until she reached the end. Her recollection of calculus was vague, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. She opened the second file and frowned. It was a Word document. Why would Ethan do calculus homework in Word and not Excel?
The beginning of the document contained calculus problems that he’d carefully typed the answers for. It was a completely different set of work than that contained in the first document, but it still didn’t look like anything other than a typical homework assignment. She scrolled through several pages and was about to close the file when she glanced down into the left corner and saw the page count.
Three hundred pages.
No one had three hundred pages of homework.
She went to the scroll bar and dragged it halfway through the document. The calculations were long gone and were replaced by nothing but text. Dated text. With very detailed descriptions of Ethan’s day and his thoughts.
Ethan kept a journal.
Struggling to control her excitement, she scrolled to the bottom of the document and saw that the last entry was the Sunday Ethan had disappeared. She leaned closer and started to read.
* * *
I helped Tara study for our calculus exam most of the weekend. The mental block she has when it comes to math is getting better. I keep telling her she’s smart and if she’d just trust herself, math would be easy. I still don’t think she believes me, but she’s getting the concepts easier and making fewer mistakes. I expect her to do well on the exam tomorrow.
As for the other thing, I’m sorry to say there’s been no progress at all. Tara still considers me nothing more than a friend. I get it. I’m the school geek and Tara might not be the most popular girl in school, but she manages to fit in the normal scene without calling negative attention to herself.
People seem to like her and those who don’t really know her at least appear to be unbothered by her. She doesn’t get the angry stares and snide remarks that I get about blowing the curve and being a teachers’ pet.
I brought up the girl in the coffin again, but Tara still insists that it’s not the same person. That the text I received was a prank meant for someone else. What she’s suggesting makes sense. Only a couple of people even have my cell phone number. It’s far more likely that someone got the wrong number than that someone went to the trouble to find out mine and send me such a disturbing text, especially about a girl I don’t even know.
She does look a lot like the girl in the coffin, though. The makeup was different but the bone structure of her face looks similar and the hair was the same color. Still, there are a lot of girls who look like the girl in the coffin. I see them sitting on the balconies of their sorority houses when I walk past. It could have been any of them, I suppose. I thought about going to the cops, but if Tara doesn’t believe it’s serious, then the cops will probably think I’m wasting their time. I suppose if I disappear, as the text warns, then I’ll know I should have said something.
That’s enough thinking for today. I’m going to grab a soda and chips and watch Star Trek the rest of the night. Brett is getting ready to leave for yet another party so I should have peace and quiet for several hours.
* * *
Shaye finished the paragraph and scrolled down, but that was the last entry, which coincided with the time Ethan went missing. She scrolled back up to the weekend before and starting scanning the entries, hoping Ethan talked in more detail about the text. On the fifteenth, she hit pay dirt.
* * *
I got this weird text today that kinda freaked me out. It was a picture of a girl who was asleep or something. It had a weird set of numbers and said if I could decipher the code, I could save the girl. If I didn’t decipher the code, the girl would die and I would be next.
I showed it to Tara, but she blew it off, saying it was probably some stupid sorority game and they’d sent the text to the wrong person. That makes more sense than someone asking me to play a game to keep them from killing someone, but the whole thing creeped me out. If it’s a game, it’s not a funny one.
This was the code:
19935192185
It doesn’t make any sense to me, and numbers usually do. Maybe Tara’s right and it’s a sorority thing. Probably some secret code they use for their parties or whatever.
* * *
The rest of the post was about classes and more mooning over Tara, so Shaye scanned it then moved to the next entry, looking for more mentions of the text or the girl. A few days later, there was another one.
* * *
I’m freaking out. I saw a girl on the news who looked like the girl in the text and she was dead. The police aren’t giving out much information but she was locked in a casket at a funeral home and suffocated. They’re not saying what day it happened so I don’t know if it’s the same
time as the text. She could be in a casket in the text. The background is blurred but looks kinda dark. They didn’t show the casket on the news so I don’t know what color it was.
I called Tara but she said it was probably an initiation thing for a sorority that went wrong. I know people die from fraternity and sorority hazing but it’s usually from drinking too much or taking weird drugs. If it was an initiation thing, why didn’t someone from the sorority let her out of the casket? Tara said maybe she had some sort of medical problem that people didn’t know about and I guess she could be right. If you look at Tara, you’d never know she had heart problems so maybe this girl had some problem and suffocated quicker than a regular person would have. Maybe her sorority sisters freaked and left her there instead of calling for help.
I just wish I could be sure.
* * *
Shaye scrolled through the remaining days until the end but no other entry mentioned the girl or the text. She closed the laptop, wishing Ethan had inserted the image from the text into his journal. The police would have been able to match the image to the girl in the coffin if they were the same person.
Tara’s thoughts on the matter were sound, though. Based on Shaye’s own college memories, it did sound like an initiation prank, but a rather risky and elaborate one as it involved breaking into a funeral home. Shaye had never been a joiner, so hadn’t been in a sorority, but talk of their exploits circulated on campus from time to time. If the girl in the coffin had an underlying medical condition, then it could explain her death and a subsequent reaction of the others to flee rather than face the music.
It all made sense.
Until she got to the part where Ethan was missing.
Maybe they had nothing to do with each other. Given the way things turned out for the girl in the coffin, Shaye hoped that was the case. But either way, an extremely predictable and reliable young man had disappeared. No matter what had happened, Shaye was certain it wasn’t good.