In the weeks before his death, Danny Casolaro told everyone he knew, don’t believe a suicide. I won’t kill myself. If I die, it’s because they killed me. They’re calling me and threatening me. Odd calls in the middle of the night for months. I can’t sleep. I’m getting too close. I’m going to expose them once and for all. The “they” he referred to was always vague. Casolaro would tell you, it’s all vague, I’m working on the details. Slit wrists, hanging in the shower, a balcony jump—don’t believe it, it’s not me. If you hear I’m dead, it was no accident. My sister Lisa killed herself and it devastated the whole family—I could never do that. A running car in a closed garage, pill overdose, driving off a cliff—I didn’t do it. If you find a note, I didn’t write it.