What I Know: An utterly compelling psychological thriller full of suspense

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What I Know: An utterly compelling psychological thriller full of suspense Page 22

by Miranda Smith


  “I’ll have to ask him,” I said. I looked at the clock on my dashboard. “Crap, I’m officially late. I better go.”

  “Drive safe,” Danny said as I hung up the phone.

  I pressed the gas and passed the car in front of me. The movie theater wasn’t far, but there was always traffic after school let out. I didn’t necessarily like my job, but I liked getting paid every two weeks. I wasn’t going to pull the same scholarships for college that Brian did. Whether I went to SCU or somewhere smaller, I needed to start saving.

  I’d been looking forward to visiting SCU, but what Danny told me cast a shadow over the upcoming trip. Girls had really gone missing? Like, vanished? I’d never known someone who’d gone missing before. During my freshman year, a girl ran away once. She was gone long enough for the school to make announcements about it. Turned out she’d snuck across state lines to be with her dad. But for someone to be sleeping in their dorm or walking on campus or, hell, rushing to their shift at the movie theater and just vanish… it unsettled me. Like most teenagers, I felt like every world event somehow had a direct impact on my life.

  I also thought it was strange Brian hadn’t said anything about the missing girls. If this had happened a year ago, I wouldn’t have been surprised. But ever since Christmas, Brian had seemingly told us everything about his life at SCU. I knew about his stupid frat’s Valentine’s Day fundraiser and that the basketball team was on track to win the championship. He’d been the one to tell Danny about it. He was taking time to hand out flyers warning people about potential dangers on campus. Why wouldn’t he tell us? Unless, like Danny said, he didn’t want to raise alarm.

  It was after eleven when I came home. Mom sat in the living room holding a glass of wine and watching Letterman.

  “Hi, sweetie. Hungry?” she asked.

  I slung my purse over the sofa and leaned against the back of the recliner. “Starved.”

  “There’s some pizza in the fridge. I can heat it up for you in the oven, if you’d like.”

  “I got it,” I said. I knew she was only being polite. She was comfortable and didn’t want to get up. She didn’t even move at the offer.

  “Fill up and get in bed,” she said. “You’re working too late for a school night.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, putting the pizza on a plate and popping it in the microwave. “Are we still planning on visiting Brian next week?”

  “Of course, honey,” she said, taking a sip. “I think it’ll be great.”

  “Me too,” I said, looking down. “Has he said anything to you about missing girls?”

  Mom twisted in the armchair and looked at me. “Missing girls? What about missing girls?”

  “From SCU. There’s been, like, five disappear.”

  “And Brian told you this?”

  “No, Danny did. I was wondering if Brian mentioned it to you.”

  “He’s not said anything to me,” she said, sipping her wine. “Danny. You mean Danny Mayfair from down the street?”

  “Yes,” I said, regretting my slip.

  “How long have you been talking to him?”

  “Like, my whole life.” The microwave beeped. I pulled out the plate by its edges. “We’re friends, you know.”

  “I see.” She returned her attention to the television. “I wouldn’t worry about going missing, love.”

  “I just think it’s weird Brian wouldn’t mention it. Especially when he knows we’re coming to visit.”

  “Missing can mean lots of things, at the college level especially. Girls get a bit loose and lose their way.”

  “You’re blaming the girls for going missing?” I asked, still chewing my pizza.

  “If they’ve gone missing. I’m telling you. It could be a bad breakup or homesickness. There’s a whole world of reasons why a girl might walk away.”

  I could have kept pushing, but I decided not to. After all, the girl from my school had been a runaway. According to Danny, no one at SCU knew exactly what was going on. Maybe I was being dramatic.

  I stuffed the last of the pizza in my mouth and rinsed off my plate. “Heading upstairs,” I told Mom.

  “Love you,” she said, never taking her eyes away from the screen.

  Thirty-Four

  Now

  I pick up pizza on my way home from work. After I scarf down three pieces, I walk to the sofa and cover my legs with a blanket. I reach for the remote but decide against watching anything. I close my eyes. Rarely do I fall asleep so easily, especially when there are troubling things on my mind. I suppose I’m used to it now, being troubled. Dealing with another disturbing individual no longer feels as jarring as it once did. If anything, I’m most bothered by the way my co-workers now look at me. Like I’m the one with the problem. I picture Zoey’s manipulative smile. Within seconds I’m asleep.

  Danny says my name three times before I fully open my eyes. He’s sitting on the edge of the sofa, staring at me.

  “You home early?” I ask, groggily.

  “Not exactly,” he says. Seeing I’m awake, he stands and walks to the kitchen. “It’s after seven.”

  I sit up and pull the blanket away from my legs. “I didn’t mean to sleep so long.”

  “Maybe you needed it,” he says, opening the pizza box, then closing it without taking a slice. He keeps his eyes low, and there’s a tenseness around his mouth I’m only used to seeing after a particularly long day of work.

  “Everything okay?” I ask, stretching my arms and patting the stray hair around my face.

  “You tell me,” he says, still standing by the breakfast bar.

  “Danny, what’s going on?”

  He takes a deep breath before returning to the living room and sitting on the ottoman. He leans over, placing his elbows on his knees. “I received a phone call today. From Pam.”

  My stomach flutters as I take in a deep breath. “What about?”

  “She said you’ve been reprimanded at work over this Zoey student. When I asked you about Zoey last week, you said the situation was resolved. You lied to me.” He recoils from my touch, and I’m not sure if it’s from anger or hurt. “Tell me what’s going on, Dell. Tell me everything.”

  Danny likes order. He likes routine. We have a happy life together. Now I feel like all that is slipping away. I look down and shake my head. “I’ve already told you about Zoey.”

  “You think she might have attacked a student at a party.”

  “Danny, I know I’m right about this. Darcy admitted more details about her attack. She admitted she remembers someone stabbing her. And I know Zoey is the one who did it. I just know it.”

  “Pam said you’ve been questioning Zoey’s former guidance counselors. She said you even visited her mother.”

  “I’m trying to find the proof you all so desperately need,” I shout. I begin to cry, knowing I sound unhinged but trusting I’m right.

  “This is impacting your job. Principal Bowles removed Zoey from your classroom. Why wouldn’t you tell me all this was going on?”

  “Pam had no right to call you. She’s not helping.” First Marge betrayed me, now Pam. I can’t believe she would drag Danny into this. She must think I’m more unstable than I realized.

  “She’s worried about you.”

  “I’m not the person people should be worried about. If you could only see this kid! The way she acts. The way she manipulates people. She’s just like Brian!”

  I said it. The word that’s more catastrophic in our household than a slew of curse words combined. Brian never left either one of us, but we’ve pushed him to the corners, kept him quiet all these years. Zoey brought him back.

  “I’m not saying you’re wrong—”

  “Yes, you are. Everyone thinks I’m wrong. Just like last time. Do you know how many times I tried to tell someone how awful Brian was?” Tears come in full force, so heavy my words land in indecipherable thuds. “I tried to tell Mom. I tried to tell teachers.”

  Danny places a hand on my shaking
shoulders. “Della, I know.”

  “I tried to tell you!” I shout, pushing his hand away. And there it is. The sentence I’ve never said. The pain I’ve never let him see. He didn’t believe me either. It’s like I’m feeling that rejection all over again.

  “He was a kid,” Danny whispers. “I was a kid. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about our conversation after the funeral. If I’d not lashed out at you. If I’d listened. If I’d tried talking to Brian.” For the first time, I notice the pain he’s been keeping secret all these years, too. His anger with himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen. How was I supposed to know my best friend was a monster? None of us knew what we were dealing with.”

  “I did. I knew there was something wrong then. And I know there is something wrong now.”

  “I believe you,” he says. “But it worries me you’d hide all this from me.”

  “I already feel crazy when I go to school. I don’t want to feel it here, too.”

  “I’ve never called you crazy. Not once. That’s what hurts the most. That you’d rather lie to me than be honest.”

  “I didn’t want to lose you.”

  “You could never lose me. I trust your instincts, Della. You might be right about Zoey, but this isn’t your battle to fight. It can’t be.” He moves closer, touching my stomach. “Leave it to someone else.”

  “No one else sees. Am I supposed to just wait around for her to do something else? Hurt someone else?”

  Danny shakes his head. He doesn’t have an answer, but he’s more concerned about my safety than he is Zoey’s potential violence. “I know it doesn’t seem fair.”

  “You know what happened last time because I didn’t act fast enough!” I cry hard and fast, realizing all these years later I still haven’t forgiven myself. “How can we live in a world that recognizes danger and does nothing to prevent it? Why do we wait for lives to be ruined? For lives to be taken?”

  “Because sometimes that’s all we can do.” He looks at me, tears in his eyes. “And nothing that happened was your fault, Dell. It was all his.”

  Lacking a compelling response, I quit talking. I stand. This time when Danny reaches for me, I welcome his comfort. I lean into him, allowing him to think I’m sharing my pain with him. I am, partially. But I’m also holding back. I know part of what he says is right. There isn’t much I can do about Zoey. But I also know I can’t sit back and wait. Not this time.

  Thirty-Five

  Spring 2006

  I could barely keep my eyes open during first period. Things didn’t improve after lunch. I felt tired and sluggish. Every twenty minutes or so, my mind would wander back to the missing girls. I still found it odd Brian hadn’t mentioned them. It seemed like a topic he’d love to discuss. He might even exaggerate details to startle me. I’m thinking of the old Brian, I told myself. He’d changed. He’d grown up. But even though our relationship had altered in recent months, I couldn’t shake an entire childhood’s worth of bad memories

  After school, I tried calling him. I thought I’d ask him about the girls directly. I didn’t want to admit to hearing about them from Danny; I didn’t want Brian to know his old best friend was now my new one. Brian didn’t answer, so I plugged my phone into its charger and stretched out on the sofa to take a nap.

  But the missing girls wouldn’t leave me alone. I sat up and exhaled in frustration. I spotted our bulky desktop across the room. It belonged to Dad and no one used it now. Few class assignments required internet access, and if they did, I took advantage of the computers at school. Suddenly, it dawned on me, if I wanted information about what was happening at SCU, I didn’t need to wait on Brian.

  I sat in front of the computer and pressed its dusty start button. It took minutes for the ancient machine to light up. When it did, I clicked on the internet icon and typed in Sterling Cove University. Standard landing pages appeared with information about academic programs and tuition scales. The picturesque campus balanced a perfect mix of green lawns and stone buildings. I imagined the fun Brian and Danny must be having there. The fun I might one day have there. Then I thought about the girls, each one being plucked from this ideal setting and plopped into oblivion.

  I went back to the search window and typed in SCU students missing. About four links down the page, I noticed an online article from the campus newspaper, The Dunes:

  Missing Students Calls for More SCU Security

  SCU students are becoming increasingly unnerved. Five female undergrads have been reported missing since November, a disturbing trend police are calling suspicious. However, campus security encourages students to be vigilant, not scared.

  “We still don’t know enough about these disappearances to determine whether or not foul play is involved,” says Mitch Mellencamp, head of campus security. “We do ask that students be hyperaware in coming weeks. Look out for your friends and look out for yourselves.”

  The campus has tightened security as a precautionary measure. The campus will be considered closed after midnight. Dormitory residents are expected to be indoors by that time. Security staff has also been increased during on-campus events. “Our priority is keeping everyone safe until we have a clear understanding of what’s happening here,” says Mellencamp.

  For those with classmates who have gone missing, it’s clear what’s happened. “Someone’s taken her,” says Rhonda Sams. Her roommate, Veronica Albright, has been gone since early November. She was the first SCU student reported missing. “She was a dedicated student. She didn’t party. She’s not the type of person who would walk away without saying anything.”

  Others are doing whatever they can to raise awareness. “I know someone out there knows something,” says Minka Meyers. “They may not realize how important their information is. But it could be instrumental in bringing my sister home.” Her sister, Mila, was the third student reported missing. She cut off contact from family and friends in late January.

  I stopped and reread the article. Something bothered me, but I wasn’t sure what. Then I read it again. Mila. I covered my mouth and scooted my rolling chair with my feet. The girl who’d followed Brian home at Christmas was named Mila. I remembered her. It could be a coincidence—just like Brian not telling me about the girls. But what if it wasn’t?

  I thought of something Dad used to say: you string two or more coincidences together, and you have a conspiracy. Is that what was blooming in my mind? A conspiracy about Brian and these missing girls? It bothered me how normal the idea felt. I leaned over the keyboard, touching my temples with my fingers. I certainly couldn’t jump to conclusions without more information. The article provided a name only: Mila. There were no pictures. I had no idea if this was the same girl who stood outside my house, and even if it was…

  I started typing. I wasn’t going to allow assumptions to cloud my thoughts until I had more facts. I clicked on more articles and gathered as much information as I could about each girl who’d gone missing. I pulled a blank sheet of paper out of the printer slot and started making a detailed list.

  Girl 1: Victoria Albright. November. Her roommate provided a quote in the interview. Last seen walking back from the science lab at night.

  Girl 2: Dana. Early December. She was scheduled to meet her mom at the mall. She never made it.

  Girl 3: Mila Meyers. Late January. Lived with her sister in an off-campus apartment.

  Girl 4: Becky. February. Last seen at a party with friends.

  Girl 5: Melody. Last seen in March.

  Looking at the calendar pinned to the wall, I realized Melody was only reported missing two weeks earlier. She’d also gone to a party and never returned.

  I took a deep breath and tried to think. I compared the timeline I’d created to another, more sinister one unraveling in my mind. There was a frightening gap in December, the time Brian would have been home for holiday break. I opened the search screen and typed in the name Mila Meyers.

  A handful of articles had been written specificall
y about her case. The second one included a picture. Staring back at me through the screen was the same beautiful girl who’d stood outside my house in the December cold. A month later, she’d vanished.

  I started crying. Crying hard and fast, gulping for air. What were the chances? What were the odds? If Brian had mentioned her disappearance, I might have felt more at ease now. But he hadn’t said a word. He gladly provided his fraternity’s beer pong stats, but he wouldn’t mention girls were going missing? He wouldn’t mention that the girl I’d seen him with over Christmas break had gone missing?

  From the same place where those questions arose, another alarm rang. I’d always been convinced Brian was trouble, although my mind never went this far. Was this the sibling rivalry I’d pushed down bubbling up to stir problems? Sure, Brian could be manipulative. But was he capable of a murder, let alone five?

  I printed out Mila’s picture, along with the photos of the other missing girls. I put them all together in a line. Some were short, others were tall, like Mila. They were all slim with blonde hair of varying lengths. They all looked like me. We could be cousins. Even sisters. I’d always read killers had a type. Was this Brian’s type? Girls who looked like me? Gah, what was I even thinking, describing my own brother as a killer? I slammed a palm against my forehead, as though I could smack the answers into my skull.

  A car door slammed outside. I rushed to get all my papers and pictures in order and stuffed them inside a spare manila folder. I shut down Dad’s computer. By the time Mom walked through the front door, I was standing in the kitchen.

  “There’s my girl,” she said, dropping her purse on the sofa. “Have you already eaten?”

  “No,” I said. The syllable came out shakier than I intended. I cleared my throat. “I’m not hungry.”

 

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