by Jana DeLeon
Upset could mean anything, depending on how dramatic a person was. What Shaye had seen of Jenny lent to the hugely dramatic category, but it wasn’t fair to assess her now. She needed to know how Jenny was before Caitlyn disappeared. According to Rick, Jenny had never been “tough” but she had no way of knowing what Rick’s definition of tough entailed. She needed to make a trip to Ponchatoula and talk to Jenny’s parents and have a much longer conversation with Marisa.
But she’d wanted to talk to all the ancillary players first, because she knew Marisa would ask straight off what she’d done so far. And she wanted to see if anything else popped up that might lead to other questions she needed to ask Marisa and Jenny. There were two more on her list—Sam Lofland, the friend who’d left the group early, and Garrett Trahan, the ex-boyfriend who’d fought with Caitlyn in a different bar earlier that night.
She’d lucked out on both accounts as they worked in the city. Garrett lived downtown in one of the expensive high-rise condos she’d looked into before buying her apartment. Sam lived across the river in Algiers Point. Both were probably at work that day and she figured she’d try them there first, and if she struck out, then that night at home.
Sam’s office was the closest, and her research had pegged him as a marketing manager for an apparel company. Garrett was an attorney with a high-powered law firm—one of the firms her grandfather had kept on retainer. Given all the things that had recently come to light about her grandfather, Pierce, Shaye wasn’t certain what her reception would be at the firm, but it wouldn’t stop her from giving it a shot.
She polished off the Danish and the rest of the coffee and headed out to Sam’s place of business. The company was in the warehouse district and had that updated, trendy look that apparel manufacturers aimed for. A young woman at reception looked up at her when she entered, then jumped up from her chair.
“You’re Shaye Archer,” she said. “Oh my God. I followed everything about you on television. You’re totally my hero.”
Shaye felt a blush creep up her neck. The woman’s enthusiasm was flattering but also a little overwhelming. “Thank you.”
“Seriously, what you did for those kids and catching that awful man that was selling them. And all the while dealing with all your own shit—sorry, stuff. It’s like superhero level.”
“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate the compliments. I was wondering if I could see Sam Lofland, but I don’t have an appointment.”
“Let me call him. I know he hasn’t gone to lunch yet because he always stops by and asks if I want him to pick me up something. He’s super nice that way.” She punched some numbers on her phone. “Mr. Lofland? This is Cherise. Shaye Archer is here and would like to speak with you. Yes, that Shaye Archer. No, she didn’t say. Can I send her up?”
She hung up the phone and beamed at Shaye. “He said go on up. The elevator’s right behind me on the left. Third floor. His office is all the way at the end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”
“Thanks,” Shaye said and headed for the elevator. She could feel the young woman watching her until she was out of sight.
The elevator opened on the third floor with a hallway stretched straight ahead of her. She went to the door at the end and knocked. A couple seconds later, the door opened and a handsome young man peered out at her, looking slightly confused.
“Hello,” Shaye said, and extended her hand. “I’m Shaye Archer.”
“Of course. I recognize you from TV. I’m Sam Lofland.” He motioned her inside and pointed to a pair of chairs in front of his desk. “Cherise said you wanted to speak to me. Is there some charity event you’re working on?”
Shaye shook her head. “No. I leave all those types of things to my mother. She’s the expert. I’m actually here on business. I wanted to talk to you about Caitlyn Taylor.”
His eyes widened and he leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “It’s been a lot of years since I’ve heard that name. Can I ask why?”
“Her sister hired me to go over the case. See if I can find something the police didn’t.”
“That makes sense. Jenny was always the one trying to pick up the pieces in Caitlyn’s wake.”
It was something about his tone that made Shaye pay closer attention to him. There was an undercurrent there that didn’t come just from the words. And it was the first time she’d heard it when talking to people about the missing woman.
“Did Caitlyn make a lot of waves?” Shaye asked.
“Definitely her share. Probably more. Looking back, I don’t guess she was any worse than a lot of college girls, but then college guys aren’t much of a prize either, right?” He smiled. “We don’t realize it at the time, but we all have a lot of growing up to do.”
Shaye smiled back. “That’s a mature attitude for someone who hasn’t even hit thirty.”
“Self-reflection is my hobby,” he said. “That and fishing, which allows plenty of time for all that reflecting.”
His voice was light, but even though she was certain he’d meant for her to take it as a joke, she would bet her trust fund that Sam Lofland was a serious man.
“How much reflection have you done about Mardi Gras night six years ago?” she asked.
His expression grew serious, then sad. “More hours than I can count. I keep thinking, maybe if I hadn’t left early. Maybe things would have been different.”
Shaye studied him for a moment. It was typical for those left behind in the wake of a tragedy to speculate about how things could have been if they’d done things differently. Survivor’s guilt. It was a very real and very powerful thing. But Shaye got the impression there was more to Sam’s regret than just leaving the group early.
“You left before they went to the French Revival, right?” Shaye asked. “Marisa said the party scene wasn’t really your thing. I’m surprised you even went on the trip if that’s the case. Mardi Gras is pretty much the biggest party ever.”
“True, and this year, as I have every year on Mardi Gras, I worked from home. All of the staff who can, do so. The entire company closes at noon to let the warehouse workers get out of downtown before it becomes too much of a zoo.”
He shook his head and stared at the wall behind her, and Shaye knew his mind was going back in time. Back to that night six years ago.
“I don’t know how many bars we’d gone into,” he said. “Five, maybe more. We’d stay for a while and everyone else would drink and dance, and then we’d move on when the rest wanted something new. Then Caitlyn suggested karaoke, and we headed to a bar she’d seen with an advertisement for karaoke on the sign.”
“The French Revival?”
“That’s the one.”
“I didn’t realize you’d gone to the bar with them,” Shaye said. “I thought you’d left before then.”
“I never went inside. When we got there, I told the others I was worn out and was going to head back to the hotel.”
“And that was the last time you saw Caitlyn?”
He frowned and looked down at his desk. “I saw her once more.”
Shaye perked up. That definitely wasn’t in the police report. “When?”
“Not even a minute later. My friends headed into the bar, and I started to leave when Caitlyn came back and grabbed my shirt. I stopped and asked her what was wrong and she…well, she kissed me.”
“Kissed you? I didn’t realize you were seeing each other.”
“We weren’t. It wasn’t exactly something I wanted.”
“So what happened then?”
“I pushed her away and told her it wasn’t going to happen and she should join the group. She gave me a look that should have brought lightning down on me, then stalked back into the bar. Then I left. And until now, I’ve never told a single other person that story.”
“Why not?”
“Because it didn’t matter in regard to Caitlyn’s disappearance and it would have only hurt Jenny. She was already in enough pain over Caitlyn. I didn’t see any rea
son to add more to that when it didn’t accomplish anything.”
“Why would knowing that hurt Jenny?”
A blush crept up his neck, and he looked slightly embarrassed. “Jenny had a crush on me. Since junior high. I liked her as a friend, but it was never going to be anything else.”
“Did Caitlyn know about Jenny’s crush?”
“Everyone knew. But people didn’t say anything. Jenny was, I don’t know how to explain it…delicate, maybe? She had a lot of health problems, and she wasn’t the strongest person emotionally either. Things that wouldn’t even faze a normal person were like the cut of a knife to her.”
“It doesn’t appear as if she’s improved since,” Shaye said. “But I find it surprising that young people didn’t use it against her. Kids are often known to be cruel, not kind.”
He nodded. “That’s true, and if it had been anyone else, I’m sure someone would have rubbed her nose in it. But Jenny was different. Special. She was the nicest, sweetest person you’d ever meet. Hurting her would be like kicking a puppy. It’s hard to explain, but the effect she had on people made them want to protect her, not lash out. The blond hair and blue eyes and completely innocent look probably helped things. When we were little kids, I thought she looked like an angel.”
Shaye smiled. “It sounds like you really cared for her. I take it you don’t see her now?”
“No. I tried, after…but every time I saw her, she got so agitated, and her mother finally said I should stop visiting. That she’d call me when things improved.”
“I take it that call never came?”
“I’m still waiting. Based on what you said earlier, I guess it’s never coming. I pushed for tests—brain scans and such, especially after that incident with the car. But Jenny had developed a phobia about closed places, and they never could get a good MRI.”
“What incident with the car?” Shaye asked.
“It was about two weeks after Caitlyn went missing. Jenny was crossing the street in downtown Ponchatoula and wasn’t paying attention. A car clipped her, and she fell and hit her head on the curb. She was unconscious for several minutes and complained of headaches for days. She went straight home and went full-on hermit for months.”
“Well, it doesn’t appear to me that Jenny has ever gotten over Caitlyn’s disappearance. According to Rick, she’s gotten worse.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m sorry to hear that. Really sorry. I always wanted the best for Jenny. Instead, she got the exact opposite. You’ve heard that expression that someone can light up a room with a smile? That was really Jenny. She had a way about her that could make you feel good no matter what you were dealing with.”
Shaye studied him for a moment. His grief over Jenny’s condition seemed genuine and deeper than a casual friend would express. “Pardon me for saying so, but it seems like you really cared for Jenny. Can I ask why you didn’t think there was any chance of a relationship?”
He gave her a small smile. “Simple. I’m gay. Of course, no one knew that back then. It’s okay to be gay in New Orleans, especially when you’re the marketing director for a women’s apparel company. It’s almost expected, actually, although completely cliché. But in a small town, it wasn’t optimal, and my folks were big church people.”
“I understand,” Shaye said. And it provided another reason why Sam had stopped visiting Jenny. Given her fragile emotional state, she was less capable of dealing with her feelings for him when he couldn’t return them. “Are your parents still there?”
“No. My dad got a better job when I was in college, and they moved to Houston. My mom hates the humidity but loves the shopping.” He sobered. “I keep thinking if I hadn’t pushed Caitlyn away, or at least gone about things in a better way, then maybe things wouldn’t have gone down the way they did. Then I think it’s totally vain to assume I was the difference when she could have walked out that back door for any number of reasons that had nothing to do with me.”
“I think it’s a completely normal thing to wonder about, but I also don’t think anything that happened was your fault. Caitlyn had been drinking and singing karaoke in a crowded bar. A more likely guess is that she just wanted to get some fresh air. She might have been dizzy or felt a little ill. And even if she was still mad and went outside to pout, the only person responsible for what happened to Caitlyn is the person who did something to her.”
“So you think she’s dead. You don’t buy the police theory that she took off?”
“You knew her much better than me. Do you buy it?”
His brow scrunched. “No. I don’t think so.”
“But you’re not certain. Why?”
“I think she was seeing someone, but she was keeping it real secretive, and that wasn’t like Caitlyn. Usually when she was dating a guy, she paraded him around like a prize—probably her way of warning other girls off.”
Shaye perked up. A secret relationship was something the police didn’t uncover, but if there was a guy in the wings, Caitlyn might have taken off with someone that night. Maybe she intended on coming back. Maybe things went wrong and she didn’t get the opportunity.
“What do you mean by secretive?” Shaye asked.
“She was checking her cell phone all the time. Don’t get me wrong, that was normal, but sometimes I’d see her smile. That smile like she had a secret. If someone asked what she was smiling about, she immediately put her phone away and changed the subject. And she’d started doing less with the group on weekends but was vague about her plans. There were other things, too—she’d been dieting, something she didn’t normally do, and she’d done some babysitting to get money for highlights. She didn’t like kids at all, so that was unusual.”
“You’re very observant. Most people wouldn’t have put all those things together.”
He shrugged. “Maybe I was observant or maybe it was just years of knowing her. Either way, I’d bet money that she had someone new.”
“Why keep him a secret? Not the kind of guy her parents would approve of?”
“Her parents didn’t approve of much, so that wouldn’t be a stretch, but they also had no way of knowing what Caitlyn was up to at the university. Jenny certainly wasn’t going to tell them. She spent her entire life covering and making excuses for Caitlyn. No, I think it must have been something different. More like someone her friends wouldn’t have approved of.”
Shaye nodded. “And you think she might have left the bar to meet him?”
“It makes as much sense as anything else. That would explain the text the next morning and the money taken out of her account. Someone had to have her PIN to get it. After that, your guess is as good as mine. Clearly, at some point, something must have gone wrong. But the only reason I can think of for the text and money is if she left voluntarily.”
“Did you mention this theory to the police?” It certainly hadn’t been in the file she’d read, but the files rarely contained anything but official statements. An officer’s notes about witnesses’ feelings on things were usually kept in their personal notes and not entered into official record.
“Sure, I told them,” he said, “but I don’t think they took me seriously. I mean, what proof did I have? A hunch? Some behavior that was fairly typical of a woman her age? Anyway, they never turned up anything, and I’m sure they got her cell phone records.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. But Caitlyn wouldn’t be the first or the last person to have a second phone in order to hide a relationship. It was a long shot, but it was definitely something to look into. And something to ask Jenny, Marisa, and Rick about when she talked to them next.
“Caitlyn had been dating a man named Garrett Trahan,” Shaye said, “and I understand they broke up right before you went to New Orleans? Could she have been talking to him?”
He frowned. “Maybe.”
“You didn’t like him?” Shaye asked, taking a cue from his expression.
“No. But he had no shortage of girls chasing him. His family has mon
ey and connections. He was an ass, but he fooled a lot of people. I imagine, in the beginning anyway, Caitlyn thought he was a catch. Hell, maybe she still did after they broke up.”
“You didn’t think so?”
“I think men like Garrett Trahan see women as an accessory, and Caitlyn was a pretty accessory that he didn’t want to lose. Plus, guys like Garrett are used to doing the dumping, not being dumped.”
“If Caitlyn thought he was a catch, why would she break up with him?”
“Caught him with another girl, if I had to guess. He wasn’t exactly known for monogamy.”
“But you think he might have been trying to weasel his way back in?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me. I assume you know that we ran into him that night at one of the bars. Caitlyn accused him of following us.”
“Was he?”
“Maybe. I wouldn’t put it past him to try, but there were so many people in the French Quarter that night. I’m not sure if that would have made it harder to follow us or easier to do it without being seen.”
“Could have gone either way. I understand they had a fight.”
“It wasn’t much of a fight. Mostly Caitlyn called him a stalker and he called her some choice names and we hightailed it out of the bar before they threw us all out.”
“Did you see Garrett again?”
“No. But I always wondered if she didn’t go out of the bar to meet him.”
“Even though she’d accused him of stalking her?”
“Caitlyn always was dramatic. That’s why she was a theater major. But maybe she thought about what she’d said afterward and realized she was wrong. Or maybe they staged the whole fight just to keep us from thinking they were seeing each other again.” He shook his head. “You know, when all this went down, he was the first person who came to mind. But then the police said he had an alibi, so I figured I was wrong.”
“Why was he the first person you thought of?”
“I think he was violent. Caitlyn had a black eye one time that she claimed she got from running into a bathroom cabinet door in the dark, but I never believed her. I don’t think any of us did. Marisa asked a couple times, but Caitlyn shut her down right quick.”
