Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

36

Elle

January 19, 2020

As soon as she was done recording her episode, she emailed the audio file link to Tina with a one-sentence subject line: for immediate release. It didn’t need editing or sound design beyond the basic, but her producer had been doing the episode uploads for the past two years, so it would definitely go faster in her capable hands.

That done, Elle set about downloading all of the red-flagged emails, as well as taking some screenshots of the worst tweets and private messages in the bunch. The one she’d opened a few days ago, Careful what you wish for, stuck out once again. It was sinister in its simplicity, but something else nagged her about it—she couldn’t figure out what. She dragged everything to a folder titled FILTH and sent an email to Ayaan with the link, copying Tina in so she knew it was being taken care of. If there was even a chance the copycat killer had been stupid enough to contact her, the police’s computer analysts would hopefully be able to track him.

It was just past noon. Elle stood up, turned around to stare at her Wall of Grief. She had added Kerry’s pictures next to Beverly’s only a couple weeks ago. His freshman college photo smiled down at her, young and full of promise that he would never get to fulfill. Someone had really leveraged the stories of these victims, these young lives snuffed out, to torment her—to achieve some twisted sense of notoriety for themselves. They had killed Amanda and taken Natalie, and they knew how to do it because of her.

Elle pulled her phone out of her pocket. Martín had texted while she was interviewing with Ayaan to say that he’d gone to the morgue to watch Amanda’s autopsy. Other than that, there were no messages. After responding to him, she sent Sash a quick text.

MISS YOU. I’M SORRY. YOU WERE RIGHT. I’M DOING EVERYTHING I CAN TO BRING NAT HOME.

As she pressed send, her computer chimed. A call was coming in from Tina.

“So, you’re finally ready to tell the world,” Tina said as soon as Elle accepted the call.

Elle studied her friend on the screen. Tina looked serious, but not upset. “How . . . how did you listen so fast?”

Tina waved her hand. “Please. I live for my emails from you.” She smiled and met Elle’s gaze through the camera. “Does it feel good? Being honest about who you are, I mean.”

“Not really. I kind of want to throw up.”

“Why? That monologue was dope. I added some epic close-out music.”

Elle shook her head but couldn’t stop a nervous laugh from escaping. She quickly sobered. “Ayaan thinks maybe the guy started killing because he listened to the podcast. Like . . . like my episodes trained him how to be like TCK.”

Tina’s expression hardened. “That is bullshit, and you know it. If someone wanted to learn how to do crimes like TCK, all they’d have to do is look at Reddit or Wikipedia. You are not going to take on the blame for this, Elle. You have done nothing but try to solve this case from day one.”

“And look how that’s gone. I keep screwing it up. People who get close to me keep dying or disappearing. Are you sure you don’t want to hang up?”

In response, Tina rolled her eyes. “Okay, but seriously. I called because I wanted to make sure before I hit go. You definitely want me to put this up? You’ve thought about it? Because I can tell just from looking at you that you probably don’t even know the last time you slept, and you are coming off a pretty horrific night.”

Elle stared at the screen. For some reason, Tina’s words made her want to break down and cry. Instead, she just nodded. “Yes. Put it up.”

“Okey-dokey.” With the video call still running, Tina clicked a few things around on her screen. Elle watched the windows dance and change in the reflection on her glasses. “And done.”

Elle let out a long breath. “Okay, then. Good.” Holy shit. She’d really done it. She might have just blown up her whole life, but right now in this moment, she felt ecstatic.

“Congrats, Nora.” Tina leaned forward, trademark mischievous glint in her eyes. “By the way, I have some news for you. On the down-low. I have a friend who works in the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension, and apparently tomorrow they’re issuing a press release to say they got a DNA result back on the male in the cabin.”

“What? Did they tell you who it is?”

“It was Bob Jensen: not-his-real-name-Stanley. The guy who disappeared along with his office lover.”

Elle sat back in her chair. “Do they . . . do they think he was TCK?”

Tina shook her head. “Can’t be. He was the VP of sales for his company. Lived overseas for all of 1997 and didn’t come back to Minnesota until late 1998. There’s no way he could be TCK.”

“That means, if the office rumors about the affair between him and his coworker were true, the woman was probably married to the Countdown Killer. Remember how they said Jensen was sleeping with a married woman?”

“I remember.”

“Holy shit.” Any other time, she would have sat down now and slapped together another unscheduled podcast episode. Those ones were the best—got the highest ratings in her other seasons—when she found a piece of evidence that changed everything about a case. But she couldn’t stomach the idea of releasing another episode right now. She had to focus on finding Natalie.

Tina looked straight into the lens. “So, are you still helping with the investigation?”

“No, Ayaan basically kicked me out of the station.” Elle summarized the last six days, including all the details they had found about Amanda and how she had been booted off the case by Ayaan. She told Tina about talking to Eduardo and the possibility that the killer worked at Mitchell University.

At the end,