Page 39 of Dead Man's Hollow
“But we’re not kids anymore.”
“No, you’re not. Instead of beating yourself up for what happened thirty years ago, help us now.”
Amy nods. “Doyouthink his disappearance is related to Heather’s?”
Jordana takes a moment to answer. “Before I started producing the podcast, I worked at a law firm for a long time. Any lawyer presented with these facts would suspect the two disappearances are connected, but they wouldn’t make that claim without hard evidence. That’s what we need now—evidence. We need people to start talking about that night.”
“I’ll help you any way I can,” Amy says. Then she wrinkles her forehead. “Where’s Maisy?”
“She’s interviewing Kristy. We thought it was important to find out right away if Andre was the boy you saw. So I dropped her off and came here to talk to you—and Rich. Is he around?”
The mention of her husband’s name makes Amy’s chest tighten. “No. He’s at his monthly poker game.”
“It would be good to talk to him sooner rather than later.”
“I’ll let him know.”
Jordana glances at the clock. “I should go. Maisy’s probably about finished. Are you sure you’re okay with doing your interview at the scene?”
Amy gives her a blank look. She’s completely forgotten why Jordana stopped by. “Oh, right. I’ll be fine to go to Dead Man’s Hollow with you and Maisy.”
Jordana smiles and picks up the yearbook. “Great.”
Amy walks her to the door. Before she opens it, she says. “I’ll talk to Michelle and Lynn. I think I can convince them to talk to you.”
“That would be really helpful,” Jordana tells her.
“I owe Heather at least that much.”
ChapterTwenty-One
Brett’s dealingthe hand when Chris returns from the fridge with six beers and passes the cans around the table. Rich is cracking his open when Frank leans over and says, “What’s the idea with your wife and her sisters going on that true crime podcast?”
The question has the effect of a record scratch sound effect on an old sitcom. The conversation screeches to a halt. Andy, Frank’s brother, turns down the music as five sets of eyes settle on Rich.
He takes a swig of cold beer before answering. “Did you listen to the trailer and the first episode?”
“Yeah,” Frank says.
Four grunts of agreement follow.
“Well, then you don’t need me to explain it to you.” He checks his hand and pushes a stack of poker chips into the pot.
Mikey, who’s a couple years younger than the rest of them, sits to Rich’s left. It’s his turn, but instead of calling, raising, or folding, he cocks his head. “I don’t know anything about a podcast. What’s going on?”
Rich flares his nostrils and says nothing, but Brett answers. “You remember Heather Ryan? Amy’s sister.”
“Yeah, sure. She went missing my freshman year.”
“It’s coming up on thirty years, and the Farley Files is investigating her disappearance for its second season. Rich’s wife and her sisters are giving that blonde podcaster interviews.”
As irritated as he is by the discussion, Rich approves of the way Brett’s framing the podcast. It makes it sound like Maisy Farley instigated reopening the case rather than Amy and her sisters.
“Oh. Why now?” Mikey asks.
Brett looks at Rich as if he’s going to field the question. Rich ignores him.
Chris pipes up, “They need to have Amy declared dead so they can close their parents’ estate.”
