Alone in her guest bedroom, Melissa typed another search into her laptop. Linda Mother Oregon Waterfall Norway. It was a variation of all of her other attempts.
Again, nothing helpful.
She realized now how little she knew about Charlie’s first wife, not even her last name. She was certain it wasn’t Miller, because when Melissa had talked to Charlie about keeping her maiden name, Charlie readily agreed, mentioning that Linda had done the same. Charlie must have told her Linda’s full name at some point, but her memory kept coming up blank.
She knew that Charlie and Linda met in their freshman year of college at the University of Washington. She searched for Charlie Miller Wedding Announcement Linda Washington. Again, nothing.
She pulled up the web page for the alumni relations office of the university. It was still business hours on the West Coast. A female voice, young and friendly, answered on the third ring. “Alumni office. This is Kelsey.”
Melissa was about to fabricate an elaborate cover story for the questions she wanted to ask, but decided nothing would be more compelling than the truth. She was four sentences in when the woman on the other end of the line said, “Wait, this is Melissa Eldredge as in, like, Justice Club Melissa?”
“Oh, you’ve heard of it?”
“Um… yeah! My roommate and are like totally obsessed with the Evan Moore disappearance. It happened when we were in middle school. We were literally just listening to your podcast last night. So you’re working on another missing child case? How long has the girl been missing? You said her name’s Riley Miller?”
Melissa had not gotten to the part yet where the missing child was her own stepdaughter, or that the alumnus about whom she was calling was her own husband, but she could tell that Kelsey was already inclined to help. She explained that the abduction had occurred only yesterday and she was trying to locate information about the girl’s biological mother. “All I know is that her first name was Linda, and she married a classmate named Charles Miller. Oh, and her hometown was Portland, Oregon.” She also provided the year of their graduation.
“Oh wow, I have no idea how I could help you with that. I’m just a student employee here. Maybe call the registrar’s office?”
“Do you have archives of the alumni announcements?” she asked. Melissa’s own college sent out a quarterly magazine, and she always skipped directly to her class year to look for any names she recognized. “Perhaps they reported the news of their wedding.”
“Oh sure, I could do that.” She could hear keyboard tapping on the other end of the line. “Hmm, I’m not seeing anything yet.”
“What about donations?” Melissa suggested. “Your office must keep track of that.”
“Oh boy, do we,” Kelsey said with a chuckle. “I love this. It’s like I’m helping you be all sleuthy. Okay, so I’ll search for… Charles… Miller. Hey, that worked. I’ve got him! His first donation was the year after he graduated. Only fifty dollars, but most new alums don’t give anything. And then it looks like he was a regular donor every year, increasing the amounts over time—”
“He and Linda got married three years after graduating. She should be there as well.”
“Nope, I don’t see a Linda. They’re just under Charles Miller. But, oh, this is weird.”
“What?”
“Well, he was sending in $200 a year annually, but then the donations suddenly stop twelve years ago. Nothing since.”
Charlie had never mentioned a reason he may have stopped contributing to his alma mater. It was possible that Linda had begun sending in the donations instead, but without her last name, there was no way to know. And in Melissa’s experience, donations to a college from married alumni were always credited to both names. Regardless, she had hit a dead end.
“Kelsey, thank you so much for trying to help. If there’s any way you can keep researching this on campus, it might be really important to saving this little girl. Maybe one of the older professors or administrators would remember them. Charlie Miller was an environmental science major, if that helps.”
“I’ll keep looking into it,” Kelsey said after they exchanged numbers. “I promise.”
With no other options, Melissa continued with her searches for news stories about Linda’s death.
Charlie Linda Miller Norway Fatal Fall
American Woman Charlie Linda Waterfall Died
Charlie Linda American Mother Died Selfie
Oregon woman dies waterfall Europe Linda
Still nothing.
Feeling her mother’s eyes from the hallway outside her room, Melissa looked up from her computer.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” her mother said. “Watching you there, I was picturing the way you always lived in another world with your homework, happy on the floor or your bed, your legs crisscross applesauce, just like that.”
Melissa allowed herself a small smile. When push came to shove, she still preferred working like this to sitting at a desk. “Dad was always telling me I would ruin my back. And then years later, I was the one who pressured the two of you to sign up for Pilates.” A year since he had passed, and she was still trying to adjust to her father’s absence.
“Can I ask what you’re doing up here in front of your computer?” Her mother’s eyes were filled with worry. “You can’t possibly be trying to work right now.”
“I feel so helpless about Riley,” she said. “I just can’t set aside this feeling I have in my gut about Linda’s fall in Norway. I’m looking for the details of her accident, to make sure she actually died, but I keep coming up empty-handed.”
In grief counseling, Charlie had moved quickly in Melissa’s mind from the guy who sits near the coffee urn to her trusted confidant. Even though he had lost his wife, and she was coming to terms with the death of a parent, they found a deep connection as they both learned how to grieve.
“This is so frustrating. I don’t even know where precisely in Norway they were visiting when Linda fell.”
Next to her on the quilt, Melissa’s phone buzzed with a new text message. It was from Mac. I asked Charlie about Linda.
She watched her screen as a series of dots told her that he was still typing. Then the dots stopped. She waited.
Mac… come on, she texted. What did he say?
More dots. Linda was cremated in Norway.
She immediately began composing a reply. Did he see her body? Was it somehow possible that Linda had enlisted the help of local officials to help her fake her death?
Another message from Mac appeared. Before you ask all your follow-up questions, I already did. Charlie had to identify her body after they pulled her from the water. He spread the ashes with Linda’s parents in the Pacific Ocean off Cannon Beach before everything fell apart with the in-laws. So whoever took Riley, it’s definitely not Linda.
Her shoulders slumped three inches with the news. She had been so certain she was on the right track.
Is he doing the press conference? she asked.
I got the information that you wanted. I have to go now.
“Is there news?” her mother asked hopefully when Melissa set her phone down.
She closed her laptop and pushed it away. “Well, I can apparently stop my endless Google searches. That was Mac. Charlie saw Linda’s body with his own eyes after the fall. So much for that theory.” She realized how desperately she had wanted to be right. If Riley’s own mother had been the one to take her, it would have been to reunite with her. Riley would at least be safe.
“Come downstairs. Your brother’s concocting some kind of supper. You at least need to eat.”
“Did you eat while Mike and I were missing?”
Her mother pursed her lips, accepting the reply. “Fair enough.”
“Can you please let me know if the press conference comes on? Charlie’s sister is worried he won’t be able to handle the pressure of this.”
Her mother shook her head in frustration, but then simply said, “Of course.”
Left alone in her room, Melissa opened her computer again and typed in another search. Melissa Eldredge stepdaughter missing. She hit Enter, even as she knew it was a mistake to look. The first hit was to NetSleuths, a true crime message board that Melissa regularly frequented for potential cold cases for her podcast. She wasn’t surprised to see that many of the NetSleuth users were aware of both her and The Justice Club. While most of the comments on the thread expressed sympathy for Melissa and hope that Riley would be found soon, a vocal minority seemed convinced that Melissa should be considered the primary suspect.
She was on the third page of comments when her phone buzzed with a new text message. Jennifer Duncan.
There had been a time when that name popped up on her screen multiple times a day, but it had been more than a year since their last communication.
Melissa, I am so sorry. I had no idea of your connection to that poor missing girl until a friend just called me. I didn’t realize you had gotten married or had a stepdaughter now. I would have sent my best wishes. You’ll recall how much I always wanted a child. I can’t imagine what you and your husband must be going through. I know we parted on a sour note, but I am still so grateful for everything you have done for me. Please let me know if I can be there for you in any way, even if it’s as a sympathetic ear. I am in Sag Harbor for most of the summer. Sending prayers, Jen.
Melissa pulled up Instagram on her laptop and then searched for Jennifer Duncan’s account. The most recent photo, posted early this afternoon, showed her on a boat, smiling behind aviator sunglasses, her long honey-blonde hair blowing in the wind. Even Monday Can Be Sun Day. #SagHarbor #Boatlife #Beachlife #Bestlife #wearyoursunscreen
Jennifer was in nearby Sag Harbor?
She reread the message at least three times, and with each review, the words became only more ambiguous. At face value, it was a compassionate and supportive note from a former friend and client during a time of crisis. Or if Jennifer really did despise Melissa—enough, perhaps, to be the voice behind the TruthTeller posts—the message could be read as a subtle attempt to rub salt in the wound. I didn’t realize might be a passive-aggressive reminder that they had cut off all communications. Sending prayers. Did she mean this as a sincere condolence, or with the Twitter-like tone of sarcastically wishing disfavored people “thoughts and prayers” when it becomes clear they’re experiencing something unpleasant?
And then, most ominously of all, You’ll recall how much I always wanted a child.
Melissa texted a response before she could change her mind. I really could use a friend right now. And I need to get out of the house, but also don’t want people staring at me. She jumped from the bed, slipped on her sandals, and trotted down the stairs before Jennifer had replied. She went to grab her car key from the kitchen island but then remembered the police had it.
A new message appeared on her screen. I totally understand. Why don’t you come to my place?
Melissa clicked on the address that followed. “Mike, I need the keys to the U-Haul.” The rental truck was now long past overdue, and would have to remain that way.
“Sure, I think they’re in my room.” He turned the stove burner down to low beneath whatever he was cooking and headed up the cottage stairs.
Her mother rose from her chair in the corner of the living room. “Are you going down to the police station? Let me go with you. Maybe Charlie will listen to me. I can tell him what it felt like to have all those people suspect me of something so awful. Maybe he’ll come around.”
She shook her head. “No, Mac’s actually right. If I go there, it could turn into a total spectacle. I need to get some air.”
“You can’t get air in a moving van,” her mother admonished. “Why don’t we all go for a walk together—just a loop around the block?”
“After those news reports, I don’t want people watching me.”
“Then let’s sit upstairs on the deck off of my bedroom,” her mother suggested. “That’s private, and there should be a nice breeze off the bay.”
Mike cleared his throat as he reentered the living room. “I know what it’s like to need to be alone,” he said. “She’ll be fine, Mom.”
Nothing was going to stop Melissa from finding out where Jennifer had been all weekend.