from: "Condry, Mark"
date: Saturday, September 18, 2004 7:59 AM
subject: re: update

Hey Eric,

We’re playing phone tag. When you called, I was already on the plane, and when I called back I guess you were at the hospital again. Really sorry to hear about Connie. Any idea what it is yet? Food poisoning? Something else? What are the doctors saying?

I’m in Boise now, yeah. I nabbed a ticket on short notice, got on standby. I left my car at the George Bush airport in Houston. Jen freaked out when I told her, then she got very terse, said I should do what will make me happy, and hung up. What will make me happy? Christ.

I don’t know a soul in Idaho. I haven’t slept in two days. I’m charging everything to my Visa, and I have no idea how I’m going to pay it off. My watch stopped working yesterday. I’ve got this weird ringing in my right ear, it comes and goes, annoying as hell. I’ll tell you what will make me happy: closing my eyes and not seeing Andrew staring back at me.

> What are you gonna do once you get there? Do you plan
> on telling the police the Madson connection? Do you
> think the Madsons left something in that house that drove
> Drew nuts, and he killed them for it years later? Seriously,
> this is fucked up.

Yeah. I don’t know what to think. Right now it’s just a connection. They lived in the same house. The Madsons were there for four-and-a-half months, and Drew was there for ten days. I have no idea what it means.

I’ll email you when I figure something out.

> feel like I should pass this along to some people, like to
> get you some help out there. Or bring in the Feds or
> something. I don’t know if anyone else has managed to
> make the connection you did, and it’s an important one
> to the case. Can I forward your emails and contact info
> to someone?

I’ve been thinking about that, because I was going to ask you to do that for me at first. But now I don’t think I’ll get the kind of help I need. Let’s face it, there are enough unexplainable pieces to this thing, I’m going to get two kinds of interest: nuts and skeptics. I wouldn’t mind so much the skeptic except I get this vision in my head of some guy calling Jenny, calling my parents, calling my boss at work, looking to paint the picture of a guy who’s lost his mind after hearing that his dead friend went nuts. I really haven’t been totally honest with Jenny or my supervisor at the office, because this is not something you can easily explain. (I’ve been calling in sick to work. I told Jen I had to go to Boise to attend a pseudo-wake.) I don’t want that to bite me in the ass while I’m looking into Andrew’s past.

Here’s what you can do for me, though. You can hold onto this stuff, as evidence or whatever. If something crazy happens and I’m in trouble, use this to explain the situation for me. Forward emails to my friends or family. Maybe if they read them, they’ll understand what I’m going through.

I know you didn’t mean to inherit this job. I’m sorry to make you do it. But I really appreciate the help.

- Mark, in potato land