her throat. “Do you have any idea if Jan was pregnant?”
“Pregnant?” Brenda did a double take. “Absolutely not. Why would you ask that?”
“Because her father gave me her date book. And she kept meticulous track of her periods. Every month there was a dot marking the date. There were no dots the two months prior to her disappearance.”
“That was stress, not pregnancy.” Brenda shoved a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Like I said, the academic pressure was crushing, especially in Jan’s area of study. She was a wreck for weeks before she vanished. I remember her complaining that she’d missed her period. She went to health services. They confirmed that it was stress-related.”
“You’re sure?” Casey asked. “You said she was shy and quiet. She might have kept it to herself if she was pregnant.”
“Very sure. Jan was reserved, but she and I confided in each other. Besides, she came from a very religious family. She and Chris weren’t even sleeping together.”
“Okay, then, tell us about her behavior during the last weeks before she disappeared.” Marc took over from what he was obviously convinced had to be a dead end. “You said she was under pressure?”
“We all were. Jan more than others, because of her area of study. Plus, she was waitressing to make some extra cash. She was burning the candle at both ends and then some. That’s why she quit the swim team, and why she intensified her running schedule. It was just too much. I really believe the overall tension is what made her snap.”
“What do you mean by snap?” Marc asked.
Brenda’s shoulders rose and fell in a defeated gesture. “She started staying out all night studying. I couldn’t get her to take a break. She’d run a couple of miles at dawn, and then go from class to the library to her job and back. She barely stopped off at her dorm room, except to shower and change. And she withdrew—from me, from Chris, from everyone. Whenever I asked her to talk to me, she said she was too strung out. I was really worried about her. And then, abruptly, she disappeared.”
“So you’re saying you think she took off on her own?”
“We didn’t know what to think. Chris called the police. And, of course, Jan’s father. There was a brief investigation. But there was absolutely no evidence that Jan had been abducted—other than the fact that she didn’t take anything except her purse.”
“Nothing else was missing? No clothes or toiletries?”
“No.” Brenda’s brow furrowed. “Chris and I both practically ransacked her room. Neither of us could find anything out of place. That’s why we filed a police report. It didn’t make sense. But, given Jan’s state of mind, I knew what the cops were thinking—that she’d either run away or worse. They searched for a body. None was ever found.”
Marc didn’t reply. But Casey knew his wheels were turning—and she also knew exactly the way his thought process was going. Suicide didn’t fit. If Jan was going to kill herself, she wouldn’t have vanished in order to do it. And running away? That didn’t seem likely. Not without packing at least one bag of essentials. True, there was nothing concrete for the police to go on. But the lead detective on the case certainly hadn’t knocked himself out. All signs pointed to the fact that Jan Olson had been the victim of some kind of foul play.
Footsteps sounded from the second floor of Brenda’s house, and a little girl of about eight burst in. She seemed surprised to see guests with her mother, and stopped in the doorway, twirling a strand of long brown hair around her finger.
“It’s seven o’clock,” she reported shyly. “I’m ready. So are Ben and Pammy. I reminded them. And I just called Daddy. He’s ten minutes away.”
Brenda smiled, reaching out her arm for her daughter. “Thanks for rallying the troops, sweetheart. Dinner should be ready in five.” A quick glance at Casey and Marc. “This is my daughter, Annie. She’s keeping track of the time for me. It’s family dinner night.” She gave them an apologetic smile. “Is there any way we can continue this another time?”
“Absolutely. We’re heading out now.” Casey rose to her feet. “I’m sorry for interrupting you. But I’m also grateful for your time and your input.” She handed Brenda a business card. “My email address is there. If you could send me that list of Jan’s friends and any addresses or phone numbers you do have, it would be appreciated.”
“I’ll take care of it right away,” Brenda promised. “I’ll even pull out our college yearbook to double-check that I’ve included everyone.”
“Great.” Marc put away his writing pad and stood up. “One more question. You said that Jan waitressed. Do you happen to know where?”
“The Lakeside Restaurant at the Central Park Boathouse. It was close to Columbia and the tips were really good. Plus, it was convenient if Jan wanted to get in an extra run. She worked there for about six months.”
Marc nodded, adding that to his memory.
“Thank you again,” Casey said. She flashed a smile at Brenda’s daughter. “Enjoy your family time, Annie. We’re sorry to have kept your mom for so long.”
* * *
Outside the house, Casey turned to Marc. “Well, that shoots my pregnancy theory to hell. Brenda wasn’t lying. Nor was she hesitating. She knew everything—including the fact that Jan went to health services about her missed periods. Of course, I’ll want to interview Jan’s boyfriend, Chris. But I doubt he’ll give us a different story.”
“Agreed.” Marc nodded again. “But we have a lot of other ground to cover. Jan’s friends, her sports, her job. This wasn’t a suicide. Nor was it a random disappearance. There are too many indications pointing to an inciting incident, from Jan’s anxiety to her change in behavior. I need that list of friends. As for right now, I’m sure Ryan’s already found his way into the university’s records. That’ll give us insight into Jan’s academic standing and her course schedule. There’ll be professors to talk to and classmates to look up. And we’ll get Brenda’s list soon. Patrick and I are going to be very busy.”
“So am I,” Casey said. “Knowing Ryan, I have no doubt that he’s also run a cross-check on all the basic aspects of Holly’s and Jan’s lives. I want to look over those results and add any of the courses and activities I remember Holly being involved in.”
“You’re convinced the cases are related.”
“Do you blame me?”
“No.” Marc didn’t hesitate for a second. “Actually, I’m starting to agree with you. The coincidence is just too real to be accidental. If the pregnancy theory had held water, I would have felt differently. But it didn’t. Which means the parallel victimologies still stand, at least until a piece of evidence says otherwise.”
“It’s going to be another late night,” Casey said grimly. “I’m not going to sleep until I sort out all the pieces.”
* * *
Back in his cell, Glen Fisher pushed aside his empty dinner tray. The food sucked. But he wouldn’t have to live with that for much longer.
He glanced at his watch. Eight forty-five. A slow smile curved his lips.
