They did arrest him, though, and they did charge him with one felony, yes. He got three years.
All the “amateur sleuths” on Reddit act like McCarthy is the be-all and end-all in Ryan’s disappearance. He’s got obvious motive, they say. He’d tried it once before. Then there was that stupid viral photo going around of Ryan at the VMAs, and everyonesworeyou could see McCarthy in the background, until a second photo taken from a different angle proved that the first was doctored. It was actually Martin Scorsese in bad lighting.
In fact, that was another one of your photos, wasn’t it, Elyse?
Anyway. I mean ... did I try at one point to track down where McCarthy was the night of the VMAs? Yes. I admit it. I wanted to put the rumors to rest.
Could I find a good alibi for him? No.
But for me, it boils down to this: McCarthy is acomplete and utter idiot. No asshole who tries to roofie a seventeen-year-old in a room full of fans and security has the brains to kidnap herwithout a tracewhen she’s older and exponentially more recognizable and protected.
I have to believe that.
Jasmine
Ryan took two weeks off after the McCarthy thing, which was the most I’d known her to rest while we were actively working on an album.
Well deserved, though. I wish she’d taken more.
Mari
I flew back to Austin to be with her again. It was fall break for me, anyway, and I wanted to make sure she was okay.
I didn’t know if Ryan wanted to talk about it or not, so I didn’t press. But when we were curled up on the couch watching TV my second night there, she said, “I didn’t even know what was happening.”
I paused and turned to her. “With the ... the roofies?”
She nodded. “I didn’t even know I was in any trouble. I remember this little girl, Eliza, was just about to get a twenty-note streak, and I was really excited for her and trying hard to focus. And then ... I was in the hospital.”
I said, “That’s really scary, Ryan.”
“Yeah.” She stared straight ahead. “If I didn’t know what was happening this time, how will I protect myself if it happens again?”
I put my arms around her. “It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t want people to have to hover over me,” Ryan said, rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. “I want to be able to take care of myself. I want to be able to take care ofothers. All those girls could have been in danger. And I didn’t—I didn’t even realize it.”
“How could you have?” I said, and I squeezed her tighter.
It wasn’t exactly the most helpful response—I think she was looking for actionable advice—but, hell, I was just a teenager too. I didn’t know how to deal with roofies. I had to believe it wouldn’t happen again, though. Skip was already putting preventive measures in place: contracting with a different security company, placing more eyes in the VIP lounge, adding lids and straws to all drinks.
But I think it was starting to dawn on her, and on me, too, that this was how it would be for the rest of Ryan’s career. She’d have to be subject to more protection the bigger she got, always looking over her shoulder for someone who might have it out for her.
Or for people close to her.
“Is it worth it?” she murmured.
“Only you can answer that,” I told her. “And if someday you decide it’s not ... then that’s it. You can do something other than music.”
Ryan shook her head. “I can’t do anything else. I’ve barely even finished high school.”
I held her closer. “You could. It’s never too late.”
She let out a big, long sigh. “This is still what I want. It’s still worth it to me. I’ve got a lot of ideas I haven’t even tried yet.”
Eight
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