Chapter 3

The morning sun rose slowly over Green Pines Resort, casting long shadows across the now eerily silent golf course. The trees that bordered the fairways seemed taller, more oppressive today, as if they were keeping secrets. Jack, Fred, and Jimmy sat in the lodge’s common area, barely speaking. The air between them was heavy with tension and exhaustion. The search for Ryan had resumed early that morning, but there had been no sign of him. Only silence.

Jack’s phone call from the night before still echoed in his mind. “Help me.” He couldn’t shake the sound of Ryan’s voice, faint and desperate, like a ghost trapped somewhere beyond his reach. He hadn’t told the others about it yet. He wasn’t even sure if he believed it himself. Maybe it was just a dream, a trick his mind had played on him in the middle of the night. But deep down, Jack knew it wasn’t a dream.

Jack also knew a few things about Ryan’s past that his other friends had no idea about. He couldn’t help wondering if somehow one of the secrets Ryan had been hiding may have led to his disappearance. He also knew that soon he would have to start answering questions. Questions that he didn’t want to answer.

The local police had arrived shortly after the resort staff notified them of Ryan’s disappearance. Now, a few patrol cars were parked outside, and several uniformed officers were scouring the area. More were on their way, or so they’d been told. The police had taken over the search, coordinating with the resort’s security team and expanding the search radius beyond the golf course and the surrounding woods.

More golfers were starting to show up at the resort but were quickly stopped and asked to turn around since they were treating it as a possible crime scene. Of course many of them had traveled a long distance and were not very happy that they would not be able to play. As one of the officers was looking back at some of the golfers that had gotten out of their cars to see what was going on, he noticed a man that looked a little out of place. Not wearing the usual golf attire and looked a little rough. After visiting with someone asking when they might be able to come back he looked back to get a better look at the man but he was gone.

Inside the lodge, the officers had set up a temporary command post in one of the small conference rooms. It was from there that they began their interviews with the three remaining friends. Jack, Fred, and Jimmy sat waiting, each lost in their own thoughts, trying to process the unthinkable.

Jimmy, usually the loudest and most carefree of the group, was uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes focused on some invisible point on the floor. Fred looked agitated, his leg bouncing up and down in nervous energy, while Jack sat with his arms crossed, his mind racing, replaying every moment of the last two days, looking for something he might have missed.

An officer appeared at the entrance of the common area, clipboard in hand. “Jack Bryant?”

Jack nodded and stood up, his heart pounding in his chest. It was time for his interview.

The officer, a tall man with graying hair and a stern face, gestured for Jack to follow him down the hall to one of the small meeting rooms. Inside, another officer, a woman with short-cropped blonde hair, sat at a table, a recorder and notepad in front of her. She looked up as Jack entered and gave him a brief nod.

“Take a seat, Mr. Bryant,” she said, her voice calm but professional. Jack sat down, feeling the weight of the situation settle over him. The room was quiet, only the soft hum of the air conditioning.

The officer across from him clicked on the recorder. “This is Detective Sarah Daniels, conducting an interview with Jack Bryant regarding the disappearance of Ryan Davis,” she said for the record. “Mr. Bryant, could you please state your name and relationship to Mr. Davis for the record?”

“Jack Bryant,” Jack replied, his voice steady. “I’ve known Ryan since high school. We’ve been friends for about twelve years.”

“Can you walk us through the events of yesterday?” Detective Daniels asked, her pen poised over her notepad.

Jack took a deep breath and began recounting everything he could remember—the drive to the resort, the golf game, Ryan’s odd behavior, and finally, how Ryan disappeared between the 13th and 14th holes. He told them about the search in the woods, how he had found Ryan’s club, but no sign of his friend.

Jack then remembered how Ryan walked the course earlier the morning he disappeared before they found him right before they teed off. He didn’t really think that would have anything to do with him missing so he kept that to himself.

As he spoke, Jack found himself becoming more anxious, his own words reinforcing the terrifying reality of the situation. He told them everything, except for the phone call from the night before. He wasn’t sure why he kept that part to himself, but something inside him told him it wasn’t the right time to mention it.

The detectives listened intently, occasionally jotting down notes. When Jack finished, there was a long pause before Detective Daniels spoke again.

“Mr. Bryant, did Ryan give any indication that he was planning to leave or that something was bothering him before his disappearance?”

Jack hesitated. He thought about Ryan’s strange mood, his cryptic comments about not wanting to be on the trip, and how distant he had seemed. “Yeah,” Jack finally said, choosing his words carefully. “Ryan wasn’t himself this weekend. He seemed… off. Like something was weighing on him.”

“Did he say anything specific?”

Jack frowned, trying to recall their last conversation at the bar. “He said he didn’t feel like he should be here. That something was off. I don’t know what he meant by that. I asked him about it, but he just brushed it off. I figured he was just stressed, maybe about work or something.”

Detective Daniels raised an eyebrow. “Was Ryan under any particular stress recently? Anything going on in his life that might explain his behavior?”

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but he stopped himself. He realized, with a growing sense of unease, that he didn’t actually know. Ryan had always been private, even with his closest friends. They’d all assumed he was doing fine—he had a good job, a girlfriend, a seemingly stable life. But now, as Jack sat there, he realized just how little he truly knew about what was going on in Ryan’s head.

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted, feeling a little bit of guilt. “He never really talked about his personal life much. I mean, we were close, but… he kept certain things to himself.”

The detective scribbled something in her notebook. “Do you know if Ryan had any conflicts with anyone? Maybe someone at work? Or in his personal life?”

Jack shook his head. “Not that I know of. Like I said, he didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff.” He knew he wasn’t being completely honest but he felt like he had given her enough for the moment.

Daniels nodded, then leaned forward slightly. “And there’s nothing else you can think of? No other interactions, behaviors, or events that stood out to you?”

Jack hesitated, his thoughts flashing back to the phone call. He wrestled with the decision for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing else.”

The detective studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. Jack held her gaze, trying not to let his unease show. Finally, she nodded and clicked off the recorder.

“Thank you, Mr. Bryant. We may have more questions for you later, but for now, that’ll be all.”

Jack stood, his legs feeling shaky beneath him. He thanked the detectives and walked back to the common area, his mind spinning. He sat down heavily in the chair next to Fred, who glanced at him, his face tight with anxiety.

“What did they ask?” Fred muttered, rubbing his temples.

Jack shrugged. “The usual stuff. What happened, how Ryan was acting. Nothing surprising.”

“They said they were going to talk to me too,” Jimmy said quietly from his seat across the room. He had been staring at his phone, though Jack doubted he was really looking at anything. “Probably going to ask about Ryan’s personal life. Like we even know what’s going on with him.”

“Yeah,” Fred added, sounding bitter. “I mean, we’re his friends, but the guy never really opened up. Who the hell knows what was going on with him?”

Jack sighed. He had been thinking the same thing. Ryan had always been a bit of a mystery, even to them. Sure, they’d hung out for years, but how well did they really know him? They had assumed he was doing fine—he had a decent job, a girlfriend, a normal life, right? Jack thought about that relationship that ended before he started seeing his girlfriend now. Wondering if that could still be lingering. But that was over and he had moved on, or so he thought. But now, with Ryan missing, all the assumptions they had made seemed hollow.

Later that afternoon, the detectives interviewed Fred and Jimmy, asking them the same kinds of questions: Had Ryan seemed different? Was he under stress? Did he have enemies? By the time all the interviews were over, Jack was more on edge than ever. Something didn’t feel right about this whole situation, and it wasn’t just the fact that Ryan was missing. There was a nagging sense that there were things about Ryan none of them knew—things that might explain what had happened to him.

After their interviews, the friends regrouped in the bar. It had been hours since the search resumed, and the tension between them was mounting. The resort staff had been instructed to stay out of certain areas while the police worked, and there were more cops on the grounds now, canvassing the woods, asking questions of other guests, but so far, there were no leads.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” Fred muttered, staring down at his untouched drink. “What if we don’t find him?”

“We will,” Jack said firmly, though he didn’t feel as confident as he sounded. “They’ll find him.”

Jimmy, who had been silent for most of the day, finally spoke up, his voice low. “What if he doesn’t want to be found?”

Both Jack and Fred turned to him, confused.

“What do you mean?” Fred asked.

Jimmy glanced around, as if making sure no one was listening. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but… a few months ago, Ryan mentioned something to me. We were out drinking, and he was pretty drunk. He said something about wanting to disappear.”

Jack blinked, stunned. “Disappear? Like, leave?”

Jimmy nodded. “Yeah, it was weird. I thought he was just drunk-talking, you know? He was rambling about how sometimes he felt like he wasn’t living the life he was supposed to. Like he was stuck, or trapped, or something. He said he thought about just leaving everything behind, starting over somewhere else.”

As he listened to Jimmy talk about his night out with Ryan, Jack began thinking about all of the stress he had been under. Maybe it was more about having to leave and start over. Maybe he was in trouble and it was for his safety. He couldn’t help but think about his previous girlfriend. Jack always thought she was trouble and wondered if some of things that Ryan told him were true. If so, he could have been in trouble. Real trouble. The kind of trouble that you usually don’t come back from.

Fred scoffed. “Come on, man. Everyone says crap like that when they’re drunk. You really think he’d do it?”

Jimmy shrugged, his expression troubled. “I don’t know. But now he’s gone, and I can’t stop thinking about it. What if he planned this? What if this whole trip was his way of saying goodbye?”

Jack shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he leave his stuff behind? And why wouldn’t he tell us?”

Fred nodded in agreement. “Ryan might’ve been secretive, but he wouldn’t just ditch us like that.”

Jimmy’s face darkened. “Are you sure about that? Because I don’t think we really know Ryan as well as we thought.”

Jack felt a chill run down his spine. He didn’t want to believe it, but Jimmy had a point. Ryan had always been private, careful about what he shared. How much of Ryan’s life had they really known? Had there been things going on beneath the surface that they hadn’t noticed?

Before Jack could respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and felt his stomach drop when he saw the caller ID.

It was Ryan’s number again.

Jack’s hands trembled as he answered, his voice tight with fear. “Ryan? Is that you?”

The line crackled, just like before. And then, the voice came again—faint, barely audible, but unmistakable.

“Help me.”

Jack’s blood turned to ice.

The line went dead.

He stared at his phone, his heart pounding. The others were watching him now, their eyes wide with confusion.

“Who was that?” Fred asked, his voice urgent.

Jack looked up at them, his voice shaking. “It was Ryan. He’s… he’s out there somewhere. He’s asking for help.”

Fred and Jimmy exchanged shocked glances.

“Are you sure?” Jimmy asked, his face pale.

Jack nodded, his mind racing. He didn’t know how it was possible, but he was certain of one thing.

Ryan was still out there, and he was in trouble.

But the question that haunted Jack more than anything was how far Ryan’s trouble went—and whether they would ever truly understand the secrets he had been keeping from them.