What Happened to Riley White?

I was intrigued when I found the dusty computer in the attic. My parents claimed they had never laid eyes on it. I brought it back to my room, wondering what a mysterious computer was doing in our house. 

After plugging it in, the screen lit up right away. The background remained black with words trickling across the screen.

The same word in green filled the entire screen in seconds.

Adams. It took a quick internet search on my phone to pull up a few people with the last name Adams that lived in town. Curiosity fully engulfed me as I stalked every person with the last name ‘Adams’ who lived anywhere near this house.

Hours passed when I realized I was not even entirely sure what I was looking for. 

At the supper table I decided to tell my parents about the word that had come up on the screen when I accessed the computer.

“Adams,” my father said, “our families used to be friends.”

“You knew the Adams?” 

“My grandparents did,” my father responded, “the Adams used to come over for the holidays.”

“Did this computer belong to them or something?”

“Probably not. My family had a falling out with the Adams. One summer my cousin went missing. My grandma was convinced Bert's son had something to do with it.”

“What was your cousin’s name?” I ask. I can tell my father wants to move on from the topic.

“Riley White,” my father replied, “Bert’s kid was Mike. They were friends in school.”

“You never found out what happened to Riley?” I pestered once more.

My mother cleared her throat. “No. Me and your father were both in high school at the time. It brought a lot of drama to town.”

“Why does the mysterious computer have the words Adams covering the screen?” I said.

My father shrugged then changed the conversation.

I couldn’t sleep that night. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the green text on the black screen. It was too strange to be nothing.

I spent the whole night doing more research on the Adams. At least I had more direction in what I was looking for. There were dozens of articles archived on the town’s newspaper website. The disappearance and search for Riley White made the front page every day for almost two months.

It also said that Michael told authorities that he and Riley had been out drinking until after two in the morning before going their separate ways. Michael was the last person to see Riley. 

The next day I had a stupid idea.

I took my bike to the address I found online for Michael Adams after one of his family members posted it on social media so people could send him cards after he had some kind of accident.

I took a moment to collect myself, then knocked on the door. 

A man with a scraggly beard and thinning brown hair answered.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Are you Micheal…Adams?”

“What do you want?”

I wanted to tell him anything that would encourage him to let me inside to ask him questions.

No good lie came to mind.

“I’m Josie White,” I uttered, “I have some questions for you. If that’s alright with you, Mr. Adams.”

Micheal did not reply but he stepped back from the open door. I took it as an invitation. 

His house was sparse on the decor. Not a single picture or artwork or even a movie poster was hung on the walls, all of which were a dull white. In the living room, a single recliner and TV were the only furniture. It did not take long to deduce that this man did not have many visitors.

“Ask your questions,” he said as he took his place in his recliner.

I leaned against the door frame.

“My dad is Carl White, he told me that you and Riley were friends,” I explained.

“That’s not a question.”

“It’s weird. I found an old computer in the attic of our house and when I turned it on, your family name covered the entire screen.”

“So you came here,” Micheal responded, “Asking about Riley. To bring up that horrible moment in my life when you don’t even know if it has anything to do with the computer you found.”

As he spoke, his voice never changed in volume. If he was angry it didn’t show.

“I had a feeling,” I declared, “Do you know why an old computer would have the word Adams on it?”

“Riley had a computer, it was new for us back then,” Micheal muttered, “Riley was so damn proud of the thing.”

As he spoke I could see in his expression that he was feeling real loss for his old friend. I just didn’t know if it was grief or guilt.

“You were the last one to see Riley before he disappeared?” 

Michael sighed. “I should have gone with him.”

His voice began to shake as he spoke. I should not have come here. He didn’t need to relive this.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, “I should go.”

“No,” he called out, his voice clear, “You have questions. No other people from your family will even look at me. I need you to ask me for yourself and see if you believe me.”

“Okay,” I said, “what do you think happened?”

“Riley was a great guy, but he had trouble stopping himself. When he didn’t return home after we had been drinking the night before I thought he was dead in a ditch somewhere.” Michael shrugged. “The whole town went searching for him. There were no signs.”

“Wait,” I interject, “They never even found his car?”

“I don’t think so.”

“So you don’t know what else could have happened? He wasn’t acting weird while you guys were hanging out?”

Michael shook his head. “No, I mean, he had been acting a little weird for a few days. I just thought he was nervous about heading off to college in the Fall. He also said something about how he had to break-up with the girl he was seeing because he didn’t want to be tied down.”

“Who was his girlfriend?”

“Riley never had girlfriends,” Micheal corrected, “Riley had girls who he tossed aside the minute it got too serious.”

“Who was this girl he was breaking up with?”

“I have no idea,” Micheal replied, “He never wanted to tell me who it was. I thought it was my ex or something.”

I turned my feet towards the door. I couldn’t be entirely sure, but all my instincts were telling me Micheal truly did not know what happened to his friend. 

“I’m sorry I bothered you,” I said, “I have a tendency to do things without thinking them through.”

“It’s okay,” Michael murmured.

This poor man’s life had been ruined because everybody assumed his guilt. I came here doing the same thing. The best thing I could do now was leave him in peace.

I made my way to the door. Before I could turn the handle, I could hear somebody unlocking it from the other side. I took a step back.

The door swung open, a tall lady with dark brown hair stood on the other side. She looked around the same age as Michael. In one of her hands she held the keys and the other one held a bag of groceries.

“Who the hell are you?” She said, her dark eyes staring into mine.

“Relax, Mel,” Micheal yelled from the living room, “This is Carl White’s daughter.”

Mel stepped past me as if I was no longer worth interacting with.

“And what is she doing here, Mike? Is she harassing you?”

Micheal chuckled. “Yes, this teenage girl is torturing me. Call the cops. They haven’t brought me down to the station for questioning in a few weeks. They probably miss me.”

Mel turned her attention back to me.

“What are you doing here?”

“I just asked him some questions about Riley,” I blurted out, “I wasn’t accusing him of anything. I wanted to hear what he thought happened.”

Mel shook her head. Her face turned a deep shade of red. “We don’t want anyone coming around here asking questions about Riley ever again. Do you hear me? It’s been over twenty years, we have nothing new to say about that boy.”

I fumble around for the appropriate response. My mouth moves, not forming any words.

“My sister is being rude.” Michael says, standing in the doorway of the living room. “It was nice to meet you, Josie.”

I dart out the door. Shame filled the pit of my stomach.

When I got back to my house I sat in front of the old computer which I now knew had belonged to Riley. That was something, I guess. One mystery solved. 

As I stare at the screen, it goes black. All the words left the screen. A cursor begins blinking. I don’t know if I should type something. I did not have to think about it for long before letters began to type out themselves.

In a few seconds, a whole sentence was formed.

I HAVE TO MOVE ON.

That was not ominous at all.

The text disappears again. The cursor blinks. I position my hands over the keyboard.

I type my response.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

The words disappear. The cursor blinks.

I TOLD YOU NOT TO GET ATTACHED.

That doesn’t clear up anything.

I try again.

WHAT DO NEED?

It takes a few more seconds for the words to leave the screen this time. 

I HAVE TO MOVE ON.

I took a deep breath. This was useless. 

I get up from the computer. As soon as I rise to my feet. The three sentences begin to fill the whole screen. I’m not sure what message I’m supposed to be getting. 

There was something about this computer that made it impossible for me to leave it alone. Especially now that I knew it had belonged to Riley. There had to be a reason why the hairs on the back of my neck stood up whenever I laid eyes on it.

It wasn’t giving me any new answers. I trudged down the stairs to supper.

I had barely taken two bites of my chicken before I involved my parents once again into this weird mystery.

“So I learned that the old computer in the attic belonged to Riley,” I tell them.

“How did you learn that?” my mother inquired.

“That’s not important,” I quickly replied, “Why would his computer be in our attic?”

My father swallowed his bite. “This used to be my grandparent’s house. They must have kept it here. When we moved in we didn’t go through everything.”

“Do you think that there’s other stuff that belonged to Riley up there?”

My father shrugged. “Maybe. After Riley went missing my uncle and aunt were heartbroken. From what I understand, when they moved away they brought a lot of Riley’s stuff for my grandpa and grandma to store for them. They couldn’t take it with them but didn’t want to throw it out.”

I could hardly wait to finish my food. As soon as my plate was clean I dashed back to the attic. I tore through the boxes in the same area that I found the computer. I finally found an old shoe box that had some pictures which had Riley’s name on the back. One was with a much better looking Michael. I rifled through the box. It was mostly random photos, except way at the bottom was an origami swan. There were black pen marks on the inside. I gingerly unfolded it.

Can’t wait to see you tonight.

I know you don’t like keeping things from my brother

We can be each other’s dirty little secret.

XO Mel

Mel was the girl Riley didn’t tell Michael about. Which means she could have been the last person that saw Riley before he disappeared. 

I had no idea what to do with this information. My instincts told me to involve the police. But there was no reason for them to believe me. I didn’t even know Riley. I wasn’t even alive when this crime took place. 

All I have is one note.

Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

I decided to go to bed and wait until tomorrow to take any action. I didn’t want to go around blaming someone based on little evidence. That’s what happened to Micheal.

The next day I was sent to the grocery store because my mom forgot eggs.

I was just placing the eggs into my basket when I heard footsteps come up behind me.

“What was your name again?” A familiar voice asked.

I slowly turn my head. Mel Adams’ dark eyes were peering at me.

“Josie.”

“Josie…White? Your dad is Carl, Riley’s cousin?”

She phrased it all as a question but I could see that she already had the answers. 

“Yeah.”

“What made you want to dig up all that old stuff with Riley?”

Either she was genuinely curious or she was seeing if I knew anything more than anyone else.

“I found something that belonged to Riley,” I replied, “It led me down a crazy path.”

Mel’s eyes widened. “Oh?”

“It was mostly dumb luck, when I told the police they seemed very interested in what I found. After I spoke with Micheal I knew it couldn’t have been him.”

“He’s been through enough,” Mel responded, “Is there a new suspect?”

I shrugged. “I don’t have a name, but Riley left a trail of his last whereabouts on his computer which I turned over to the authorities. They think it might be enough to track down his car. Who knows what they will find in that?.”

“You must be quite the detective.”

“I have to get going,” I remark, “My mom’s expecting me home soon.”

I did not go home.

I put the eggs back immediately after Mel left my side. 

Suspiciously, Mel also left the store without purchasing anything. Could she have followed me there? She must be concerned about what I know.

My mom let me take her car to the store which I now used to follow Mel. It was better than trying on my bike.

Mel’s car made its way past the town limits, taking a dirt road through a dense forest. Following her too close would have given me away. I parked on the side of the road. In the distance I saw her put on her brake lights before turning off her car.

She climbed out of the driver’s seat and went into the trees.

I stayed with her, trying to keep a good distance between us.

Finally, Mel stopped to take in her surroundings. She had definitely been here before.

She reached up at what appeared to be a bush. Mel pulled back at one piece of greenery and the headlights of an old car were revealed. The car was becoming part of the forest, meaning it had been there for a while. Probably over twenty years.

I pulled out my phone to take a picture, but I was too far away. I slowly crept forward. 

Mel was taking in the condition of the car, to see if anybody else had stumbled on it. 

She was uncovering the car when I got close enough. I took her picture. In the process, my foot came down on a branch.

SNAP.

Mel’s head swiveled in my direction. There was nowhere for me to hide. I had gotten too close for her not to be able to see me. 

“I know that’s you, Josie.”

I pop my head up. There was no use in pretending I wasn’t there. My car was parked over a mile away.

Mel shook her head in disbelief. “You knew I would have to make sure the car was still hidden.”

“I thought that anyone worried they might get caught would have to come and make sure the evidence was still buried, then they would take steps to ensure it.”

“You followed me here by yourself?” Mel stated, “Which means that you also lied about contacting the police.”

I held my phone in front of me. “That doesn’t mean I won’t call them now.”

“Go ahead,” Mel said, “There’s no reception.”

I dialed 911. Evidently, she was not aware that emergency calls could still go through in areas of no reception. At least I hoped they could. 

I needed to stall.

“What happened to Riley?” I asked. “You might as well tell me. I already figured most of it out.”

Mel sighed. “Riley was my boyfriend until he decided he didn’t want to be.”

“So you killed him? And let your brother take the blame.”

“It’s not like I meant to kill Riley, ” Mel explained, “He kept going on about how he had to move on. I was just so angry. He promised me that we would make it work. Then he said that it was my fault for getting too attached.”

I glanced down at my phone, unable to tell for sure if the call was going through. 

“When he went to get into his car, I pushed him,” Mel continued, “His head hit the edge of the door. It was either hide him or let one accident ruin my life.”

“Where’s the body?.”

Mel looked back at the car. “You already know.”

Once again, Mel focused her dark eyes on mine. “The police aren’t coming, Josie. I wasn’t going to let Riley ruin my life then and you aren’t going to ruin it now.”

My grasp tightens around my phone. If there is no signal here I’m going to have to try and get somewhere with at least one bar. I just need to get enough of a head start to get help.

I start running.