I laughed because everything was cause for celebration where Andie was concerned. After we had donated blood last week, she’d exclaimed, ‘that’s over, let’s celebrate’, which led to us having dinner at our favorite Argentinian restaurant, The Inkan, and indulging in the Ladies’ Night drink specials, wobbling home at midnight. Andie’s excitement was infectious, and she was right, this was cause for celebration: I’d found my biological family. I gave my cousin a sloppy kiss on the cheek and jumped up to grab another bottle.

VICTIMS 4 & 5

Julie Jenz & Linda Styles

1993

CHAPTER 6

Linda’s head was pounding. She rolled over and tried to grab her forehead but her hands were stuck together; something tight and scratchy tugging on her wrists. She opened her eyes and saw Julie staring at her from just a few inches away. They were in a dark, confined space that didn’t allow for much movement. The space was dimly lit but Linda couldn’t tell where the light was coming from.

‘Oh my God, you’re awake,’ Julie exclaimed in a hushed, urgent tone. A tear rolled down her flushed cheek.

‘Where are we?’ Linda asked, her voice hoarse. The black velvet choker around her throat was too tight, making it even harder to get the words out.

‘I think we’re in a trunk. Can’t you feel us moving? The last thing I remember was a man knocking on our door from the gas company. We need to find a way out of here.’ Her rapid thoughts and questions flew out of her mouth one after another, overwhelming Linda in her groggy state.

‘A trunk? Like the trunk of a car?’ Linda’s head was lost in a dense fog. ‘Why are we in a trunk?’ She was trying desperately to understand but her mind felt disconnected and distant from the reality around her, like the one time she’d done shrooms and woken up with a chunk of hours missing from her memory.

‘Linda, that guy kidnapped us. He said there was a gas leak, so I let him in. I’m so sorry,’ Julie sobbed. ‘That’s all I remember.’

Images crept into Linda’s mind, spreading pieces of clarity that lifted the haze in slow motion. She’d been in her room, working on a last-minute presentation her boss had dropped in her lap earlier that day, when she’d heard the doorbell. She’d known Julie was in the living room watching TV, so she had let her answer it. A few minutes later she’d heard a thump and then silence. She’d called out Julie’s name but it went unanswered. Goosebumps erupted on her arms, shivering at the memory. Her babydoll dress offered little warmth but she was glad she’d at least thrown her favorite plaid flannel over it.