When She Disappeared

INTO THIN AIR: Season 9 Episode 903

“Whatever Happened to Jessie Germaine?”

Original Air Date: 10/10/2004

On May 26, 2004, Jessie Germaine went to school, turned in her final History project and cheered at a rally. Sometime that evening, she rode her bike into the forest and disappeared . . . Into Thin Air

PROLOGUE

June 7th, 2019

~Fledgling hawks soar to peaking crests

Behind the canopy you’ll find your quest

Jump the path at Lightning Tree

Journey west to rocks stacked three

Travel along the whispering creek

Pass the falls for what you seek.

Hawks fly high for the final test

We’ll pass the torch at Senior Nest~

‘You don’t have to do this, Lenny. No one will give you a hard time if you jump from the lower rock. You’re one of our best football players; the team is screwed if you get hurt! They’ll understand.’

Lenny stood next to Farrah on the rocky ledge some thirty feet above the pool of water, its dark blue surface rippling tauntingly as the late-day sunlight bounced off it. His classmates were all in their underwear, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove his oversized t-shirt. He’d hit six foot seven that year and topped the scales at over three hundred pounds. Surrounded by his much shorter and smaller friends, his confidence waned, even with his popularity as the best defensive end in the state. But he refused to be left behind during this crucial moment. His class had been counting down to their final day of junior year, and they had finally made it. He was determined to join in as the exiting senior class ushered his own class into senior-hood in this secret hazing ritual Lenny now faced. He’d heard whispers of a traditional passing of the torch for years, but no one had ever spilled what they had to do. Not until they’d arrived at their destination.

Lenny eyed the water warily, weighing his options. If he walked away, he would surely be the class laughing-stock until the day he graduated. But if he jumped, well . . . he was bigger than everyone else. No one knew how deep the swimming hole was in this secret spot. Hell, they didn’t even know it existed until those notes showed up in their lockers just that morning, giving them clues on how to get there. The thrill of the unknown had been exciting at the time, but now . . .

Everyone else had already jumped; the dare they were all required to complete for this transition of power and gain access to the coolest, most secluded party-spot in town for all of senior year. The cove next to the rock upon which he now stood was already decked out with coolers, a fire-pit and old lawn chairs, ready for a party at a moment’s notice. It was one of the most epic places Lenny had ever seen, and he dreaded the idea of being excluded for failing the test.

‘Really, Lenny, it’s OK. You don’t have to do it,’ Farrah said kindly. She had waited with him at the end of the line. They’d been flirting all semester ever since Jake’s party when Lenny had driven her home. He didn’t want to be the only one not jumping off the top rock, and he certainly didn’t want her to think less of him.

‘I can do this,’ he said with feigned bravado. ‘It’ll be OK, Farrah, really. It’s your turn, you go.’

She hesitated but, after an encouraging smile from Lenny, nodded and walked to the edge. She glanced back at him, giving him a heart-melting smile just before she leapt off. He was stunned by the silence of her fall as she disappeared from sight, the beauty of that last moment a ghost lingering in his eyes. He heard a splash and hurried to the edge, looking nervously down below. His classmates were positioned around the perimeter of the swimming hole like a crescent moon, some sitting on the ledge of the cove, some treading water. They clapped and cheered, but for a second, Lenny couldn’t breathe. Where is she? Then suddenly bubbles rose to the surface followed by Farrah. When she broke through, she wiped her face and smiled up at him, ecstatic. He heaved a sigh of relief. She pulled her hand back across her wet hair and the smile fell instantly from her face.

‘My cheer bow!’ she yelled, her voice echoing off the rocks. She spun in a circle, looking frantically into the water, then dipped her head down and dove under. A moment later, she came up, panting and empty handed. ‘I lost my bow! I should have taken it off before I jumped,’ she hollered up at him. Then her expression shifted and smiling with pure joy, she yelled, ‘It was so incredible, Lenny! Jump, you can do it!’

That was the final bit of encouragement he needed. He would remember the exhilarated look on her face for the rest of his life, he thought. Lenny inched closer to the edge, his toes gripping the jagged rock as it sloped down. His classmates started counting in unison. 1-2-3! He leapt off and his heart flew into his throat as gravity quickly took over, pulling him rapidly downward. His body plunged into the water, taking his breath away as the cold water swallowed him whole. He kept falling fast until his foot slammed into something hard, sending pain shooting up his ankle. Reaching down, he grabbed his throbbing foot. He was running out of air, his lungs aching, so he dropped his foot and pushed himself toward the surface, pumping his arms and legs. Before he made it very far, a flash of red cut through the murky water, catching his attention. Farrah’s cheer bow! He swam forward a few feet and grabbed the mass of silky red before he kicked his way to the surface. I’ll be her hero.

When he broke through the surface of the water, the warm air hitting his face, he sucked in a deep, comforting breath. His classmates swam around him, clapping and whistling. The exiting seniors standing on the rocky bank above cheered his name, ‘Lenny, Lenny, Lenny!’

Farrah swam over to him and as she neared, he reached his fist up straight in the air, kicking his legs beneath the surface to stay above water.

‘I found your bow,’ he said triumphantly, holding it in the air.

Farrah beamed, looking at his hand in excitement, but then her smile dropped. The color drained from her face, and her high pitched scream ricocheted off the rocks. Lenny looked at his classmates, confused. Tamra’s mouth was hanging open and Justin said, ‘Dude,’ as he shook his head, his eyes wide in shock. One by one, more screams erupted around him.

Lenny looked at his fist and his stomach contracted into knots. Blonde hair draped over his arm, a dirty red bow holding its loose strands together, a gel-like substance clinging to the ends of the strands near the bow – the remnants of a scalp. He yelled out and threw the mass of hair onto the embankment, swimming away rapidly. Somewhere in the distance, ears ringing, he vaguely registered a girl’s voice yelling, ‘Someone call the police!’

CHAPTER ONE

Margo tapped her fingers along the steering wheel in time to the music pumping through her Honda Civic’s speakers. Her chipped nails and torn cuticles betrayed the anxiety bubbling under the surface of her calm demeanor, but she kept her eyes trained ahead and focused on the winding mountain roads. The twists and turns forced her forward, and had each bend not been seared into her muscle memory after all these years, she would have been in danger of crashing as the early morning fog obscured the path from her view. Once the main highway gave way to the two-lane road snaking through small towns as the elevation steadily increased, the tight turns became more treacherous. Steep drop-offs with no guard rails were common, as were cars going far too fast as they veered over the center line. Just as when she was a teenager learning how to drive, Margo gripped the steering wheel tightly as she slowed to coast through each turn, the road sucking into the mountainside and then pushing back out to the edge.

Crashing would have likely been easier, she mused, as a tight feeling spread across her chest. She had barely returned to Lake Moss since the day she left for college fifteen years ago. Choosing the University of North Carolina, Wilmington to remain close to her dad, but far enough away to keep the painful memories at bay, she had packed her bags and left. She came home for Christmas and Thanksgiving during her freshman year, but after that, she’d found excuses for each summer and holiday: internships or relationships; whatever was relevant. She had stayed firmly in Wilmington and asked her father to drive to the coast to visit her instead. As the only child with no extended family to speak of except a smattering of distant relatives in France on her mother’s side, he had always obliged. But now, she couldn’t stay away. After her marriage and life had imploded in Wilmington six months ago, there was nothing left for her. Her small hometown now drew her in like a magnet, pulling her back into the messy web she’d left behind. With each mile, her old fears and insecurities seeped back in, ready to take root in her uneasy mind.

As she drew closer to town, the deep blue peaks of the mountains ahead broke through the fog. They’d learned in ninth grade science class that it wasn’t the color of the trees covering the sharp peaks that gave the ridge its blue hue, but a hydrocarbon the trees released to protect themselves from extreme heat. Once released, it mixed with other airborne molecules, creating the distinct color that gave the Blue Ridge Mountains their name. Margo yearned to veer around Lake Moss and drive deep into the folds of the mountains to hide. But she knew she couldn’t. Her eyes drifted up from the road for a long second, taking in their staggering beauty as red and pink streaks of sunrise burst around the peaks and broke up the white haze lingering in the warm summer air. A looming force of blue, rolling hills that appeared to kiss the sky, surrounded by lush trees that hugged the bends in the roads and encased waterfalls and babbling creeks. It would have been peaceful if it hadn’t held so many secrets.

The mountains, while beautiful, hovered menacingly, jagged peaks jutting into the sky followed by steep drops into dark valleys in the distance. The protector of the town, but had they really protected anyone? They hadn’t protected her mother, or her childhood friend. Perhaps they had protected Margo, since she’d made it out alive. For now, anyway. They protected the town gossip mill, which she was sure would still be alive and well. People who grew up in Lake Moss rarely left, and if they did, they surely returned. The cast of characters wouldn’t have changed much, she thought with dread. The mountains had also protected the brewery business that kept the town afloat, of that she was certain. No matter where she traveled in the country, she could always find Moss Creek Brewing on tap.

Margo passed the small sign protruding out of the right side of the road reading, ‘WELCOME TO LAKE MOSS. Small Town, Big Hearts,’ and clenched the steering wheel tighter. The name of the town where she’d grown up, about thirty-five minutes outside Asheville, had always been a source of amusement amongst the youth there. She was sure she’d heard something in history class about there being a small lake present when the town originated generations ago, but as far back as anyone alive now could remember, it ironically had nothing more than thick winding creeks and rivers. Nevertheless, it had been home, and it had shaped the course of her life in ways she was still trying to correct.

After several minutes of weaving through the dense thicket of trees, she slowed once more as she came upon a familiar site. A deep ache blossomed in the pit of her stomach. Her finger joints throbbed from their sharp grip, the skin white where it curved around her flakey red polish. She took her foot off the gas and hovered over the brake pedal, letting the car slow naturally as she approached. The music playing on the local radio station in the background fizzled into a low, indecipherable hum as she pulled over and finally stopped the car.

Margo knew if another car came by, there would not be enough space for them to squeeze through without going over the faded yellow line and it made her anxiety spike. But this was important; she needed a moment. This spot had been the beginning of the end. It had changed everything. She opened the car door, grabbing the key from the ignition as she stretched her legs, the warm air whipping her long deep brown hair around so that it momentarily blinded her. But she could see this spot even with her eyes closed. Even after all this time, it still made an occasional appearance in her dreams.

She snapped the door shut and approached the large tree in front of her. There it was; the small ‘In Memory’ plaque with a cross attached to the tree’s thick trunk. It was dirty, the letters slightly faded, but she could still make out the words. Margo reached a shaky hand forward and grazed her fingers across the grooves of the engraved letters. Her mother’s name. The spot where her mother had died. A flash flitted through her mind. The sound of screeching tires, a loud crash as the front of her mother’s red car smashed into the tree, folding the hood like an accordion. Her mother, blood dripping down her forehead where it rested on the steering wheel, a faulty air bag never deploying. The settlement from the car company they’d received, which later financed her college degree, would never erase the pain that day had caused.

Margo could see her mom’s crumpled car in front of her like it were still there. She hadn’t been present at the time of the crash, but the vivid images her imagination had conjured were burned in her mind, as if she had been in the passenger seat. In her frequent childhood nightmares, she sometimes had been. After a long moment, she pulled herself away and climbed back into her car. Margo hated driving past this spot but had hoped time had scabbed that wound. No such luck. A long loud horn startled her as a car whipped around the bend behind her, her blood running cold as she braced for impact. For a split second, she thought she was about to meet the same end as her mom. But at the last second, the small car sped around her, driving over the center line to clear her car and laying on the horn repeatedly in anger, the man inside gesturing at her wildly. Margo heaved a few heavy breaths as her heart raced, the car’s taillights disappearing around the bend up ahead. After a few minutes to calm herself, she started the car and pulled back out into the road, continuing on her way.

As she drove into the heart of town, Margo felt like she had never left. Town Square, nestled right in the center with the mountains reaching up picturesquely behind the short brick storefronts, looked exactly the same. The strings of bistro lights crisscrossing over the quiet streets still glowed, not yet turned off from the night before. The clock tower that stood tall along the wide circular section in the center of Main Street still ticked away every agonizing second that passed. While she spotted a new organic restaurant and home goods country store, none of the small shops from her childhood had changed. Most even still displayed the missing poster for Jessie Germaine in their windows, the tragedy that had rocked the town fifteen years ago. Margo slowed as she passed the antique shop that had given her such pause as a kid, its dusty, creepy old toys and ancient electronics lining the windows. Squinting to see in, she noticed the exact doll that used to haunt her still sitting upright in the corner of the window. Its dirty, porcelain face watched as she drove by, its beady eyes keeping tabs on her every movement.

Blinking rapidly to clear its disturbing glass eyes from her vision, Margo picked her speed back up and turned down an alley that she always used as a shortcut to cut over to Pine Road. Pine would be what led her to her final destination: home. Or, what used to be home. The trees lining the narrow road felt like they were closing in on her, shrouding her in suffocating shadows as she inched closer to the place where she grew up. The house where her father still lived. Guilt ebbed at the edges of her mind, but she pushed it down. He had understood why she’d left him alone here.

After several long minutes weaving along the bumpy narrow road covered in small rocks and twigs, Margo pulled into the driveway and put the car in park. She stared up at the home’s charming exterior, a confusing storm of emotions swirling just under the surface. She had loved this house at one time, its cozy cottage vibes, every inch of its exterior covered in smooth light-colored stones that reminded her of the river rocks her mother used to collect. The few steps leading up to the porch, a small landing shrouded in the shadow of a large stone archway, used to be covered in potted flowers and seasonal décor when her mom was alive. But once it was just her and her dad, the plants too had died and faded into nothingness. The porch was barren today, save for an empty terracotta planter that had been left behind.

Her dad needed her, she reminded herself. Taking a deep breath, Margo reached to turn the key in the ignition, but her hand froze as the radio jingle for Bob’s Hardware cut off with an interruption for an urgent news bulletin.

‘The remains of a young woman, believed to be Jessie Germaine, were found yesterday. The discovery was made at a secret swimming hole popular amongst local youth, and if confirmed to be Ms. Germaine, would be the first break in the missing person’s case that has haunted the Lake Moss community for the past fifteen years. Jessie Germaine disappeared on May 26th, 2004 . . .’

The blood drained from Margo’s face. Jessie? Found?