Shouts from the press fill up the screen. But CNN drowns it out as their talking heads appear again. Two analysts on the eight-person panel begin ripping the senator to shreds. Another talking figure gives her a pass. A third says, "Senator Simmons was extremely presidential with that speech."
I shut off the TV and throw the remote across the room. So the senator just won another one over on the public. She came off as sympathetic and like she's doing the government a favor. But she's not. She just publicly found a way to steal all public data and keep it in their database. We're talking photos, credit card information, pictures, details about their lives.
There's nothing the government doesn't have anymore from anyone whoever used Up Sync. That's ludicrous. They have everything they need. And what happens if they decide to delete things or change things? That's possible too.
The direness of it all is insane. And I can't even believe we're at this point in the story where the senator is ... taking control of everything.
I lay down on my bed and collapse against the pillows. I shut my eyes and hope for a second that I will fall asleep and wake up in a much different world than the one I'm in.
My phone buzzes harshly against my bed. I pick up to see which idiot has contacted me this early. I really don't know if I have to capacity to stomach anymore of this drama. My head is spinning with the mess.
It's a text from Mack.
Tiffany is back. She wants to talk. Call me.
Great. Here we go again.
Chapter 23:Call Back
"She's back."
Mack wanted me to call him and so I did. I decided not to catch a nap or a break from everything going on and decided to call him. He sounds calm compared to when I spoke to him last. His busy, feverish attitude is gone. He was probably stressed that Tiffany had disappeared and left him behind. Now that she's back, he can feel a little more peaceful.
"Have you spoken to her?"
"Oh, you bet," he says. "She called to tell me she was back home. And so I talked to her for a few minutes. She said she's safe and she doesn't want anyone to contact her for a little bit."
"Where did she go?"
"I have no clue."
"Aren't you interested?"
"I think we all need to be interested."
"Why do you say that?"
"She's going to be giving a statement soon."
"Wait, what?"
"She told me she wants to give a statement and she wants a public forum to do it. I can't believe she wants to speak publicly, but she knows there's a lot of interest in what's going on with her so she wants to issue a public statement about what happened."
"Is it about Kayleigh?"
"Of course it is," he says. "Whatever else could it be? Look, I think she's been heavily stressed out since the death of her sister. And between you and me, I think she's been hiding something since the beginning. I think she's holding back. So now she's going to share it with everyone."
"This sounds a little bit like I mess."
"You can't imagine the severe headache that I'm going through with this entire mess. I didn't sign up to be the press management agent for all of this. But if it saves our law firm, then I have to do it."
"So why are you calling me? I guess I can watch the press conference later."
"Well, that's the other thing. She wants you be there."
"What?"
"She said that she wants you there so that she knows you're listening to her and you hear her words."
"That's strange."
"It's not strange. Look, just come back out our way to her house. I'll Venmo you some money for the gas. We'll figure all of this out once you're here. She's giving her statement in like two hours so hopefully you're going to be here sooner rather than later."
I hang up from our phone call and lay back on the bed. My eyes are insanely heavy and I could fall asleep no question. I want to sleep off some of the stress I've been dealing with.
And yet I'm being pulled in another direction again. Tiffany is going to talk about Kayleigh. That'll be even more information to use my stories and reporting.
And even if there's nothing I can gain from the speech, at least I can help a sister grieve for her lost sister. I owe her that. I know how important it is to have people in your corner caring about you during times of grief.
I hurry downstairs by walking through the hallway and riding the elevator to the bottom floor. I step outside just as my Uber arrives, curving into the driveway of the hotel. I hop into the back seat and text Mack that I am on my way and I will meet him in town at Tiffany's place if he can send me the address.
The address filters into my phone and I save it into my maps app. That'll be good to have.
I enjoy a silent ride through the city and out to the Baltimore. During the entire drive, I think about what Tiffany is going to say. There's no telling what she'll say about Kayleigh and her connection to this entire case. It's an odd decision to gave a statement about your recently passed-away sister. But she's choosing to do it. She's choosing to open up about something tragic that happened to her.
And that must mean that she has something important to say. She wouldn't throw herself into the spotlight unless she had something worthwhile to say. I even know that. Mack would have advised her against it. It seemed he had even been caught by surprise.
What's really strange to me is that Tiffany had recently left town. She drove away right when questions were rising about Kayleigh and what happened to her. Where did she go? What did she learn when she was away that made her want to turn back home and talk about what happened? I wish she was being a little more open.
I wonder if there will be reporters there to hear her statement. I know a few reporters were interested in following the Tiffany aftermath. But the questions seemed to quiet down. So was she just going to live stream her public address and see what happened to it? That was pretty likely.
When we arrived back in her home town, I recognize the street of the cemetery that we drove through just a few days ago. Soon we arrive on her own street. I know I was only there for a brief amount of time a few days ago. But I recognize it again. The late afternoon sky hints at a beautiful sunset which is barely noticeable through the tall trees that line the street. There are a host of cars snaking their way from one of the homes on the street. I see a pair of local TV network vans lined next to the curb. Okay. SO there were really journalists here to follow the story.
I ask the Uber to drop me off about a block or two away from the house. He wishes me luck finding anyone who would be willing to talk to me. I thank him and head out into the street. The world is cold and dark and unforgiving. And I imagine this night isn't going to turn out good for me.
I walk down the block. The air is still cold. I can handle this thought. The street is quaint enough. The houses are typical colonial East Coast. Probably two-floor homes for well-to-do American families.
But Tiffany lived on this block. And everything that happened to her isn't an indication of typical American living. Or is it? America has become an increasingly dark place in these last few years. Many believe America is safe. Many believe there aren't any crimes or darkness in America. But now ... women get chased by serial killers. People are murdered at the national mall. We can't even trust our own senators.
I'm not sure what kind of America I'm living in anymore. And I'm not totally sure if I want to live like this anymore.
Then again, it's my own fault for finding myself on this street right now. I could have walked somewhere else. I could have done something else with my day and done research elsewhere. But Mack had asked me to come out this way. So I did it. It's probably my fault.
I'm not sure what this means for the future of my reporting and investigation. And I don't know if Senator Simmons will have anyone here to watch out for me. There's a good chance that she'll look for me and then threaten me with something when I get home.
I'm getting threatened from all angles. And I don't know
if there's anything I can do to avoid it.
I walk toward the crowd and stand at the back. At least if people are looking for me they won't see me back here. I poke my head around the crowd. I notice two or three people in suits hovering on the outskirts of the crowd. They're hovering like they're watching, but not like they're not attending. Those are the people I have to watch out for.
As I figure out a better position from where I'm standing, I see we're all just standing outside her house. We're waiting for the door to open. I wonder how many of these people are neighbors. Are any of these people reporters? Are these people just looking for something fun to do?
The door to the home opens. Mack steps out in a clean suit. He walks up to the front of the house's doorstop and opens his arms out wide.
"Welcome and thank you all for coming today. Thank you for members of the press who are here today. Looks like we've got some of the local channels so hopefully that'll be alright. Listen, Tiffany has been through a lot this week so I wanted to just say she's going to give her statement. We will have questions after but I will be answering them. Tiffany has elected not to answer any questions."
Interesting. She wants to answer questions but she doesn't want to do it herself. The most interesting parts of press conference comes during the questions. I wonder what we'll learn there.
The door to the home opens with a creak. Tiffany steps out from inside. She's dressed in a long gray sweater with a fur vest over her torso. She steps up to the front of the doorstep with a piece of paper in her hand. She reads it over. She folds it and puts it into the back pocket of her jeans.
She clears her throat. The crowd surrounds her.
"Thank you all for coming. And thank you to Mack for setting all of this up on last minute notice. I really appreciate the help. I wanted to speak to you all today for a very important reason. As a lot of you know, my sister passed away last weekend. She was killed at the national mall. I know there's a lot of speculation about who killed her, but I wanted to set the record straight on what I found last week."
A murmur rumbles through the crowd. It moves like a wave. People are whispering about this revelation.
I walk closer to the front of the crowd, at least on the side of it. I hide among the outskirts. I am curious about what she's going to say.
"I was so mad about the death of my sister and no one was giving me the answers that I wanted, so I drove down to Washington, D.C. I wanted to see if there was anything I could do. So I went to the police and I asked to check in on records. But they told me that someone else had been here recently for the same thing."
Oh no. I feel the fear growing inside of me. I immediately step away from the crowd. The fear is growing and growing. She knows I've bene looking into all of this. She did exactly what I just did.
"And so I was really confused by that. And then I saw the news that a man named Ben, an aide to senator, had been arrested for poisoning my sister. So I looked into him. Just a quick Google search. And it turned out that his girlfriend is the same woman who was digging around the police station."
There's that murmur again through the crowd. People mumble and whisper about what they're hearing. But I already see where this is headed. I slide my phone out my pocket and tap away for a Lyft to come and pick me up at the end of the street. I need to get out of here before someone recognizes me.
"Finally, that same woman came to visit me and asked me about what happened to me and my sister. She was fishing for information. This woman has been so involved in everything happening to me, so I think it's time we put this all to bed. I know she and her boyfriend worked together to kill me. It's going to come as a shock to many of you, but should it? Should we be shocked? I don't think we should be shocked at all about this. She's been through hell and back, and so clearly something would happen to her mind and make her want to kill someone. I have no doubt."
She clears her throat, looks at the ground, and then back up. Her eyes are pink and wet. She's been crying.
And so she says, "I believe that Annette Gardner killed my sister. And I advise all police officials and government officials looking into this case look into her as well."
I take off toward the end of the street. I bend my head and bundle around my coat. I see the Lyft pull up at the end of the street.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
It's from Mack: Sorry I didn't know
I text back: Why does she think I did it?
Mack: Same reasons she said.
Me: Police already cleared my name.
Mack: I'll find out more. Be safe.
Me: Thanks.
When I'm in the back of my seat, I toss my phone to the floor. I stare out the window. I don't need this. I don't need to be accused of murder. This is the last thing I need. I've been through too many of these situations before to suddenly become the victim.
I hate what has happened here. I hate that this is the life I'm living in now. I am now a suspect again this murder case? There's no reason to believe I did it. I was already cleared of being a suspect. And now here I am. Under the microscope again.
I really hope this doesn't leak out again and become a national story. I can see the headlines. ANNETTE GARDNER A SUSPECT AGAIN.
I curl up in the corner of the car. Tears shed out from the corner of my eyes. This is horrible. This is all so very bad. I have the senator chasing me down telling me not to look into this story. I have Kayleigh's sister calling me a suspect again. My boyfriend is in jail.
None of this makes sense. None of this is going to help me or any of my friends. I'm lost.
I've survived serial killers chasing me. I survive being isolated in a house located in the middle of the woods. I've been through some horrific experiences.
But I've never been in something like this.
I think back to what Senator Simmons told me about when we were first talking about all of this stuff. When she threatened me.
Washington is cut throat.
And she's right. This place is ruthless. There's nothing to be done when you're getting attacked. You can't escape it.
The car rolls down the road back toward Washington. But I don't want to go back. I want to go home. I don't want to deal with this anymore.
I want all of this to end.
Chapter 24:Bail
Later during the car ride, my phone buzzes at the bottom of the chair again. I debate picking it up. The skyline of Washington, D.C., monuments are closing in on us, and I want to maintain a sense of peace before I get back to the city. Checking my alerts and texts will only worry me more.
I look out the window. The sun is fading behind the bare branches and arms of trees. I can't believe how often I've been in cars this week. I need to stop ordering all of these Ubers and Lyfts. This is getting to be too much. Yet another reason to hate this city.
I need a distraction. My phone will be the perfect one. I reach down and pick it up. Maybe it's Mack sending me another apology. I don't know if he set me up for failure or not. He might have known about this before. Maybe that's why he dragged me out all of this way.
But the phone alert isn't from Mack. It's not even a text. It comes from The Washington Scribe of all people. And the breaking news is so shattering that I almost drop my phone on the floor again.
The headline reads: "Suspect in monument murder released on bail."
And indeed, my boyfriend Ben Casselwhite has been released from prison on bail. I slide over to Twitter and see raw video of him leaving jail. He's leaving with a smile on his face. But he declines to answer questions.
I smile. It's the first time I've smiled in awhile.
Before I can even think to do the same, my phone buzzes again. It's a text from Ben.
Ben: Got a surprise for you.
Me: I saw!!!! You're out!!!
Ben: For now. They released me on bail!
Me: But who paid it??
Ben: I have no idea.
Me: Wait, what?? What are you talking about??? No
one told you?
Ben: Nope! They wanted to keep it secret I guess. I don't get it!! But it's okay I'm out. So where are you??
Me: Coming back to Washington. Just headed out to see that Tiffany girl. Kayleigh's sister. She thinks I killed her sister.
Ben: so they think you and I did it together??
Me: something like that
Ben: can you grab coffee??
I start to type my response but I hold off. The senator asked me not to see Ben anymore. And then she threw him into jail. She showed the power she had by throwing him in there. I shouldn't see him right?
But then again, it's not like I've been listening to the senator at every turn. I've actually been defying her a lot. And even if I did fall in line, people are still throwing me under the bus for all of this stuff.
It's Ben, though. He just got out of jail. I have to see him. And I have to talk to him about all of this. He needs to know everything I learned about New Surge, Up Sync, and the government. And he needs to know that I'm getting closer to linking it all together.
Me: Yes!! Send where.
Ben: Great! I have a perfect spot. You doing okay?
Me: I will be better.
Ben: Good!! See you soon.
I tell the driver that I'm going to change my route. So I slide into the Lyft app and insert a new address. We continue forward. There's a new energy glowing inside of me. Ben is free. And I can see him.
I just hope the senator isn't looking for me. I hope she isn't going to take even more action against me.
Into the Night Page 17
