Please note that this episode contains mature and potentially
triggering subject matter. My mom used to tell me I was a
born performer. Whether it was cheering on a
team, taking a bow in the School Musical, or lighting up the eyes
of campers with ghost stories, I've always known how to put on
a show. As I've gotten older, though,
I've started to wonder who that show was for.
Everyone else or myself? This is the Crime at Camp
Ashwood Episode 11 June in July. I'm so glad.
They keep letting the three of us bunk together well.
It would be pretty crappy of them to split us up.
They know it's the only time of year we.
See you still. Mary Casey and Ellen Lyons got
put in different cabins this year.
Could have been US. Wouldn't have ever been.
Your perpetual confidence astounds me.
I put in a very strong word with Mr. and Misses Mackenzie when I
saw them at the Walgreens a few months ago.
Actually, I make a point of doing it every year when I catch
them. We pay to go here.
We should get what we want out of it.
You're brave. I've always thought they were
kind of intimidating him at least.
No total softies. I don't think they love me
telling them what to do, but doesn't mean they won't listen
to a professional convincer like myself.
A professional what? I know what I'm good at.
OK. Oh shit.
It's past curfew. Good evening ladies.
Sorry June, we just got excited. First night of camp and stuff.
Of course you are. Plus, it's your first night in
the senior girl cabins, which means you should be extra
excited because I have a new camp tradition to teach you all
about. What oh, do tell.
It's not totally camp sanctioned, more of a bonus
designed by me. Addition to our already robust
Ashwood tradition. There's a campfire going
outside. Care to join me?
Love a burnt marshmallow? I've never seen someone just
shove their sticking to the fire and torture like that.
That's what she said. I'm more of a lightly toasted
girl myself. Well, that takes too long.
Lowers the number of total S'mores consumed.
I say burn the motherfuckers. This is a good tradition, June.
This is just the appetizer, actually.
The main event is something I call Midnight Mystery Hour.
Anybody here scared of ghost stories?
No. With a capital N, this has been
the one thing Camp was missing all along.
Then I guess it's time for me to introduce you to Misty Willis, a
cheerleader at Asheville's most prestigious high school with a
flair for the dramatic, who'd fallen in love with a
quarterback named Ron Kentwood RK.
They had a picture perfect teenage romance, until one day
something in arcade broke. Misty had forgotten to meet him
after the homecoming dance behind the school dorms where
she said she'd be. She was out with her friends,
maybe sipping on a flask of whiskey that had been smuggled
in and lost track of time. So she was late.
Really late, when she finally met him behind the dumpsters of
the cafeteria in the dead of night.
I'm sorry, I thought you said midnight.
That's bullshit. You're sticking feet here and
power of melting. You know it.
Why would you? Lie to me.
I'm not lying. I just forgot.
She told him she was sorry, but he just lost it.
Lost himself at first. He hit the dumpsters yelling
about how she must have been sneaking around on him with some
other guy. He was so unhinged, it scared
poor Misty half to death. She cried out for him to stop,
but he didn't. When he hit her, the force of
the blow was too much. It took the life out of her.
He killed her that fast. That's.
Awful. And she's been haunting these
grounds ever since. Do you remember the Misty Willis
stories? Of course.
The guy in them Ron Kentwood, RK.
Yeah, I know. She was talking about herself
that whole time, wasn't she? All the ghost stories were
domestic violence related. I never even thought about it
before. She was telling us.
We were teenagers. Marco, I know, but it's just.
We get down to the station and see if we can figure out where
this guy is now or where June. Wait, the story June told was
Misty and Ron, who met at Asheville Prep, Did Rick Klein
go to high school with June? We could find out how Asheville
Prep is still running on the old Ashwood campgrounds.
It was a high school long before it was camp.
We could see if they have any alumni records.
I haven't been back to Ashwood in 20 years.
Kind of thought I'd never go again.
You're going to need to make a left up here.
I'd always been a good kid. Good grades, popular with a list
of extracurriculars that could have gotten me into my dream
college if I'd ever had one. But what I wanted was to run off
to New York or LA and find my name in the lights of Broadway
or on the lips of paparazzi. I wanted to be seen.
And then Rick saw me. It felt perfect, like fate had
stepped in for me early. Only really, really lucky people
get to meet their soulmate when they're 15, right?
We came from the same backgrounds.
Our parents were thrilled that we got together.
He was charming, always knew what to say and how to say it,
and I had a knack for the same spinning stories, so it was like
we had something in common. Now, I'm not saying it was
perfect. We were teenagers, we fought,
and Rick had a temper. I'd seen it a few times, but at
17 it seemed more like passion than danger.
I still had a lot to learn. We broke up and got back
together a few times over a difference of opinion, he said.
He didn't need some big fancy dream in a city in some far off
place. He had me and I had him for a
while. I thought he was wrong.
Wow. Blast from the past.
Welcome home. Still looks the same, right?
Like the land time forgot, they still have the cabins to.
Use them as extra dorms for the older students during the school
year. I think we can reminisce more
later. Let's go see what we can find.
I can't believe she just left us in here.
School secretary working in the summer.
She doesn't want to be here. Everyone else is on vacation.
Plus, I showed him my work ID. It's not like you're a
detective. It.
Says who? There.
I've got a couple of 90s yearbooks here, and there's what
we guessed already. They're in the same class and he
was indeed the quarterback. Look, here's them on the field
together. They look like a ROM com if you
don't know about the twist at the end.
Is there anything recent, maybe school newsletters that would
have alum updates? You are kind of a detective,
huh? They're.
Watching them work or sometimes not work for a long time.
There's a lot here I don't know. Wait.
Oh Alumni Wedding Watch 2007. Look at these pictures.
Her dress is stunning but. Wow.
Fuck in a double alumni Wedding, Mr. and Missus Klein celebrated
their union on July 24th, 2007. The couple plan to live in
Saluda, NC, where Mr. Klein will teach math at the local public
school. Saluda's not far, and it's tiny.
I wonder if they're still out there.
If she's out there with him, I don't think she's safe.
Got a phone number? No point in waiting.
What if Rick picks it up? Hang up.
I tried leaving once, took a train to New York, and got a
room and some rundown apartment on the Lower East Side.
With my tiny savings, I went on a few cattle call.
Auditions felt invisible. So I came home and decided that
instead of running off to chase some pipe dream, I'd go right
back here and stay in North Carolina forever.
And I'd win Rick back while we both worked as counselors during
that summer in 2003. It worked.
But not in the way that I'd planned.
The owners of Camp Ashwood fired me in the dead of July, right in
the middle of summer and the day after Sadie Cameron died on
campgrounds. Sadie had screamed at me on the
last night of her life out of what seemed like nowhere.
I didn't understand until I was told that an anonymous person
had complained that I was breaking camp curfew and scaring
teens in the cabin with my ghost stories.
Sadie had always seemed like she loved those nights, but maybe
she was putting on an act. Either way, I thought that it
had to have been her. Rick picked up my pieces.
He was so angry at Ashwood for letting me go, and Sadie for
betraying me with this report. I thought it was so romantic
until I realized after years of living with Rick that he was
angry about absolutely everything.
But those flashes I'd seen when we were kids weren't flashes at
all. And I had the scars and bruises
to prove it. But by then I was stuck.
Hello. Can I speak with June Klein,
please? This is she.
Who is this do? I tell her it's us.
Or tell her it's the police. Not yet.
June, this is Veronica Hughes. I know it's been a really long
time, but I'm here with Margot Ingle at Ashwood Prep and we had
a few. Are you home alone right now?
Well, Veronica and Margot, it's really nice to hear from you
after all these years, but I'm not.
Sure. Are you home by yourself, June?
Is Rick there? Is there a reason you want to
speak with my husband? We want to ask you some
questions and just but it would be better if Councillor Klein or
Rick wasn't there. What did you find?
We just have reason to believe that he might not be who you
think he is. I know who he is, and he's on
his way home from work in about an hour.
Don't come here, girls, and don't call again, June.
Fuck, She hung up. Come on, let's get to the car
and go to Saluda. We could beat him there and talk
some sense into her. We're not doing that, Margo.
Well, what the hell else are we going to do now that we know all
this? We have proof right there and
say these journals and we have. Close to proof, but not a
confession or a real account of what happened that night.
As much as I'd like to be a detective, I'm not one, and
neither are you. I'm not risking both of our
lives driving down there. We need to talk to the station.
The people who've let it sit for 20 years?
No, you're crazy. There's a true alternative to
Paul. There's plenty of evidence to
get the case going. Plenty of reasons the department
would listen to us. We found what we needed.
You found it. Margo, let them take it from
here. And finally, take this guy down
and. What about June?
I guess I've known the truth for a while.
I tried to come up with alternatives and dance around
what my gut had known for years, to convince myself that I hadn't
spent my life with someone who would.
But when I said I know who he is, I meant it.
You think they'll bring him back?
The way they rushed out of here, I think they'll try.
I need to call Paul and let him know.
Oh, about Paul. On Sadie's list of people she'd
slept with, both he and Rick had stars next to them.
I think it might have meant that.
Probably. For people she had crushes on,
right? Yeah.
You know what? Probably.
Go ahead and guess. We got a.
Chase, we got him Holy. Crap, they got him.
What I do know is that Rick keeps a locked box in the attic
of our house and carries the key on a chain that goes with him
wherever he goes. I thought about waking up in the
middle of the night to snag the key, climb up there and see
what's inside. But a big part of me has known
that I couldn't deal with whatever it was that I only
wanted to know in an imaginary sense so I could keep up the
show that's become my life and not blow it up with evidence.
I'd like to think that if all of this happened, now that I have
the wherewithal to report it, to be like those women who come
forward with their stories on the news to be able to risk the
doubters and the Internet trolls and the inevitable Scarlet V for
Victim label, I'd have assigned to me forever to be brave.
The girl who tried to go to New York and follow her dreams might
have been able to do it. The one I turned into when I
turned around with my tail between my legs and came back
home just couldn't. But I'm going to try to make up
for it now. I'm so sorry I couldn't do it
sooner. And I'm especially sorry to you,
Margot and Veronica, for not being able to really talk today.
I would have loved to see you and meet the women you've grown
into, but if I'm being honest, it makes me think too much about
who Sadie might have become, and I just can't face that.
I'm sure once you all open that box and find out what's inside
that there will be a lot of questions.
I hope most of them are for Rick, but if you have some of
them for me, I'll try to answer them.
Look me up if you need to. I'm going to try it in New York
one more time, see what happens. Sincerely, June.
If you or someone you know is a victim of domestic.
Violence support is. Available Call the National
Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-7233.
For the National Sexual Assault Hotline, 1-800-656-4673.
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