Pam (9 page)

Recreation and information
;
it is vast.

Anything I wanted to know was there. I just needed to know how to look. She explained it was always what it seemed and how I had to use things called ‘key words’. She emphasized that they were important. That I would put in key words and hit the enter button and a long list of places would pop up.

Links, she called the
m
. But there were pages after pages and it wasn’t just what was on my screen.

I got a lesson that took close to a half an hour and I took notes. She was really informative. Teaching me little things, and then telling me she was posted in the lab and would be on hand to help if I needed it.

“You’re ready to do your first search. If there are things you want print up on the screen you can. Just call me, it might be tricky. I’ll help. It’s ten cents a page.”

“Thank you.”

“Remember, key
words.”

“
Stacy?” I called her name as she started to leave. “Can you just stand here while I try the first search? Make sure I do it right.”

“Sure. Go on. Click the arrow in that search space. Make sure it’s blinking.”

I moved the arrow to the search bar and click
ed
. I was proud. I did it.

“Now what are you looking up?”

“Unsolved murders. Maybe bodies found in local areas.”

“Okay, type the words and use commas. Try … Give me a town?”

“Colville.”

She moved her hands to the keyboard and typed for me.

Unsolved Murders, Bodies found, Colville.

She hit enter.

“Now watch,” she said.

An entire page of blue sentences
appeared
. Under them were small paragraphs of descriptions.

“There you have it. Click on what you want to read. Meaning
put
the arrow on the sentence
;
if it turns into a hand
,
it’s good to go. If you don’t see anything you like on this page …” She moved the screen to where it said something about results. “Try a
different
page
. There are over
two hundred
thousand results.”

“Wow.”

“Don’t be impressed
,
though. Some are repeats. And use the back button.”

She took another moment to show me what she meant.

I really appreciated it. I did. I thanked her again
,
and when she
walked
away, informing me she was close, I then looked at the screen.

The first, the very
first
one, caused
one
of those
nervous,
surprise
twitches in my gut.

It read, ‘
Body found in
p
ark indentified as Colville
c
heerleader missing for twenty years.”

I moved the arrow to the line, saw it transform into a hand
,
and hesitated to click on it. I felt guilty. I looked around
. Double
checking to see if anyone was watching me. Why that was, I didn’t know.

Wait. Yes
,
I did.

I had a feeling before I even clicked on the link that I knew what it was about.

I clicked.

I saw the picture
, and I was right. It was a year
book
picture
;
the girl had been
cropped
from a group
,
m
ore than likely the cheerleading squad. Her hair was light, full
,
and big. Curled up and back on the sides and high in the front.
Her lips were glossy, eye makeup heavy, her head tilted
,
and she smiled.
A bit of her Colville
c
heerleading
sweater had made it into the picture.

The article
read
:

Connie Lambert
was excited and happy when she
left for the big
h
omecoming game on Friday, October 16, 1981. Her mother had just laundered her uniform
,
and Connie left early so she could get sodas with the other girls.

She was excited
because she
w
as on
e
of five girls nominated for homecoming queen.

It was a great night for Connie. T
hough she didn’t win homecoming
queen
,
her team went on to beat the undefeated Willow Brook Panthers 21 – 3. She called
her mother from the stadium pay
phone and said she was going out for pizza and would be home before midnight.

That was the last her mother heard or saw
of
Connie until her body was discovered just two weeks ago.

The article was written in 1999.

It stated her remains were
uncovered in the Colville Park
that used to be a playground when they were digging to make a new
fountain
. Her body still sported her Colville cheerleading sweater, but no other clothing items were found on her.

Because of how many years had passed, the cause of death would remain a mystery
;
they could only guess.

So could
I
.

I
hadn’t thought about Connie Lambert until that v
ery moment
, and I guessed
I
’d be thinking about her for a long time.

Twenty-three years ago
I
’d
thought about her a lot. Tried to
speak
about
her
,
but Sharon …
Sharon
would stop me
.

“It wasn’t our
fault,
” Sharon said. “We didn’t do this.”

I
flashed back
to that night. “Are you sure?”

“
Positive
. When I left her she was fine. It happened after.”

I
believed
Sharon back then.
Why
wouldn’t
I
?
But as I stared at the article, I
had to wonder.

That night was vivid
once more.

“M
y
father is going to be so mad,” I told Sharon as we pulled into
the parking lot of the Colville
High School
s
tadium. “I’m not supposed to drive this far.”

“He isn’t
going
to know. H
e
’s always a
sleep by ten on a Friday
,
anyhow
.

I knew that
to
be true. Plus, my father thought I was at a friend’s
house
.
Never Sharon’s
,
though, my parents hated her and wished her away at times.
I didn’t get it.
They’d
always tell me not to bring her up.

“Richie is going to be so
surprised
I’m here,” I told her. “He asked me to come, but I said I couldn’t.”

We had to park in the back of
the
lot
;
it was full. Willow Brook was undefeated.
We were
late;
I was certain they were already in the second half.

We giggled all the way to the stadium. Richie’s
motorbike
w
as parked right out front. It was so cool
,
and I felt like the
coolest
girl in school hanging out with Richie.

But we didn’t see him. Then
again
, the
s
tadium was full. We looked around, but
n
o Richie.

The game
ended,
and I wondered if maybe he was out
in
the parking lot
dri
nking beers
with friends, or better yet, he more than likely was under the bleachers.

“He’s probably there,” Sharon said. “Let’s
go
look. If he isn’t, we’ll hang out by his bike. He’s gotta come back for that.”

I agreed. It was a Friday night
,
and I wanted to see Richie. I wanted to kiss him. I loved kissing Richie. It was our senior
year,
and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was ‘with’ him. He
was
going to be my first. There was no one else I wanted to be with. But until then, I enjoyed making out with Richie.

I was wearing my best pair of Jordache
j
eans, a cool blouse, my
hair
was big and
perfect,
and
Sharon
let me use her lipstick. My father never let me wear lip gloss, but Sharon, she always had makeup. She was beautiful and confident and didn’t care. I wished at times I could be like her. She had experience. And before we went anywhere, she always put stuff on my face.

Boys loved her. I often thought it was because she did things others didn’t. She told me
about them
, but it
made
me
embarrassed
.

“Think of it a education,” she used to tell me and giggle.

Anyhow we went to look for Richie. Certain he and other boys were under the bleachers, we headed that way as the stadium emptied out.

We didn’t hear the typical
laughter of kids.
Then
again, if they were sneaking beer, they’d be quiet.

As we veered from the group
of
exiting
people, I heard
something
.

Sharon
whispered
. “I hear him.”

“You
think
that’s him?” I asked.

“Yeah, let’s sneak up and scare them.”

I giggled. It was a great idea. Hunched
over,
we moved as
quickly
and quietly as we could
toward
the voice.

Perhaps if we would have made noise, we would have seen something totally different.

A
part
of me wished
we were loud.

Mouths open
,
ready to call out, ‘Hold it.’, I froze. I
literally
froze.

Richie was under the bleacher. Connie Lambert leaned against the
pillar
, moving side
to
side, trying to be cute. Smiling and giggling. “
So
you wanna see?”

“Hell
,
yeah. You know it.” Richie leaned into her, pressed his
body
against Connie and
kissed her
. H
e
kissed her long and hard like he never kissed me. H
e
then moved
his lips
to her neck and his hand
grabbed
on to her breast.

Sharon stepped forward, and I pulled her back. I just wanted to leave. Run and leave. Cry my eyes out the second I was away,

His hand moved from her breasts to her waist then
her
leg. It slid up her cheerleading skirt and in between her
thighs
.

She giggled an
d
pushed
aw
ay his hand, shoving him back.

“You said I could see,” he said.

She laughed again, biting her lip. “And you can.” She grabbed her skirt and lifted it. “See
?
”

“Can I take them off?”

Connie nodded.

Richie dropped to his knees in a second, reached up
,
and grabbed her panties.
He
slid them down to her ankles and stared at her.

That’s about all he could do. Because Sharon yelled out.

“You asshole!”

Quickly Richie turned his head. Connie screa
med a little scream of surprise
, bent over and pulled up her underwear. She did it so fast; I don’t think she realized a part of her skirt was stuck in her briefs.