When they arrived at his condo, Bryan led her inside and immediately pulled her into a passionate kiss. There was no mother and no decorated dolls’ heads on shelves or on display in glass monitors under spotlights. Ashley decided maybe she had been too paranoid. This was it; this was the time to throw herself in, full blown, with no holding back. She decided, for once, to give herself over completely.

It’s now or never.

Ashley moaned into his mouth, her body pressing against his as he lifted her up and carried her toward the bedroom. The way he carried her made her feel light as a feather.

As soon as they entered the room, Bryan’s hands were all over her, pulling at the fabric of her dress and leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. Ashley’s fingers tangled in his hair as he undressed her, and soon they were both completely naked and tangled up in the sheets.

Bryan’s touch was electric, igniting a fire within Ashley that she had never experienced before. Not even with Alex, who she dated for more than three years. This was different. More intense. He knew exactly how to touch her, where to kiss her, and how to make her moan with pleasure. The way he looked at her, with pure desire and passion, made her feel beautiful and wanted in a way she had never felt before.

As they explored each other’s bodies, Ashley couldn’t help but feel like this was more than just a hookup. There was a connection between them that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was undeniable. Bryan felt it too, she could tell by the way he kissed her and held her close.

Like he never wanted to let her go.

Hours passed by as they made love, forgetting the world outside of the bedroom. They were lost in each other, in the pleasure and in the moment. When they finally collapsed in each other’s arms, sweaty and exhausted, Ashley knew that this was just the beginning. There would be many more nights like these. Exhausting and exhilarating nights.

Later, Ashley opened her eyes to see him lying beside her, expecting the sight of his sleeping handsome face to make her smile.

Only he wasn’t there. His side of the bed was empty.

She searched the room for any trace of Bryan. Had she done something wrong? Her mind raced with questions, each one more terrifying than the last.

Just then, she heard the sound of water running from the bathroom. Relief flooded through her as she realized he was just taking a shower. She lay back down, her heart still pounding as she tried to calm herself.

You’re being silly as usual, Ashley. Just silly.

But as the moments ticked by, Ashley’s anxiety began to grow once again. Bryan had been in the shower for an awfully long time. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, unable to take it any longer, Ashley got out of bed, put on Bryan’s T-shirt that he had thrown on the floor and walked to the bathroom. She hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door.

“Bryan?” she called out tentatively. “Are you okay?”

There was no response, no sound from inside the bathroom. Ashley’s heart sank as she pushed the door open slowly.

The sight that met her eyes made her gasp in shock.

SEVENTEENBILLIE ANN

We frantically searched for answers to Cassandra’s whereabouts before she was murdered, feeling our time and resources slipping away. Everywhere I went, I found people who had seen her the day before she was murdered, but no one had noticed anything amiss. The last person to have seen her on Saturday night was Mr. Cornwell, and so far, we hadn’t gotten anything out of him. Tom had interviewed him, but he was at work that day in Publix and several coworkers gave him an alibi, along with surveillance cameras showing him at the store on that day. But his shift ended at two thirty and he didn’t have any alibi for the time after, as he said he was taking a stroll on the beach before returning to his house at four thirty. He was still of interest to me.

Scott and Tom had checked Cassandra’s usual spots, like the local mall and the arcade, the library, and the park, talking to people there, asking them questions about her. I even went to the high school, but the principal said she hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. Cassandra was a straight-A student who always showed up and was known to be a good friend to everyone. Nothing seemed off. The only person I hadn’t spoken to was Cassandra’s father.

When I arrived at their house, it was Mrs. Perez’s sister who opened the door. She told me to walk into the living room. In there, I was met with a heartbreaking sight; Cassandra’s mother was sobbing quietly in the corner of the living room while a man, who I assumed was Cassandra’s father, stood still as a statue, his gaze empty of emotion.

I cleared my throat, but they didn’t look at me. I walked to the father and reached out my hand.

“I’m Detective Billie Ann Wilde,” I said.

He didn’t shake my hand, and he didn’t turn to face me.

“Are you bringing any news?” he simply asked.

I exhaled. This didn’t feel good. I so wanted to help them find closure, and to know what happened to their precious daughter. But I had gotten nowhere still. I needed more information.

“Not yet, but I can assure you we’re working very hard on—”

He lifted his hand to stop me. “Spare me your reassurances. We want to see results. Our daughter was brutally taken from us, and we want to see justice done. Is that too much to ask?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. That’s why I am here. I was wondering if Cassandra had any more friends that she would hang out with?”

“She was with her track team a lot,” the mother answered softly. “They had practice every morning and meets sometimes in the afternoon. They would also go to competitions together on the weekends, sometimes out of the area.”

“Could you give me a few names of her closest friends on the team perhaps?” I asked.

The mother nodded. She wrote three names down on a Post-it note then handed it to me.

“Thank you,” I said. “There was another thing.”

“Yes?” Mrs. Perez said.

“The girl who Cassandra was supposed to babysit on the night she was murdered. How well do you know her and the mother?”

Mrs. Perez looked confused. “I have never met them. Like I said, it was Pete who got her that job.”

“Do you know her well?” I asked Mr. Perez.

The father turned around and looked at me, his eyes heavy with sorrow. He shook his head. “She lives down the street, by the pond. To be honest none of us have ever seen the child, but I spoke to the mom, and she said she was looking for a babysitter and I suggested Cassandra. I asked her to go over there and talk to the woman and that’s how she got the job.”

“Why are you asking about her?” Mrs. Perez said. “Do you think this woman might have hurt our daughter?”

“I don’t know who did hurt Cassandra, but I need to look into all possibilities, as you probably understand.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t really know them at all,” Mrs. Perez said.

“Okay,” I said. “I will let you know if anything new comes up.”

I had turned to walk away, when Pete Perez stopped me before I could leave.

“Please, find who did this to her,” he pleaded softly, his voice full of grief. I believed he was heartbroken.

I nodded and stepped out into the night, determined to bring closure to this devastated family and, as if on cue, Dr. Phillips called me in for the autopsy.

I had no idea what he was going to tell me, but I spent the drive to the medical examiner’s office thinking about all the leads that had already reached dead ends. We interviewed the locals in the surrounding areas, people walking their dogs in the street nearby or driving by the pond, just to hear if they had seen anything, in regard to Cassandra. But no one had. People were very nice and helpful, and most had heard about the finding of Cassandra’s body and were terrified by it. Yet no one had seen her later than when her mother sent her off for her babysitting job.

I had a few tips from locals that I had Tom and Scott follow up on. They said they saw Cassandra on her bike around town, but that was on the day before she was killed.

There was something odd about the fact that Emma disappeared on the same day Cassandra died, and that they lived on the same street. She was her babysitter, and the Perezes had told me that she was supposed to have taken care of Emma on the evening of the day that the little girl disappeared.

I had combed through every record I could find, trying to find any evidence that might prove that Emma actually existed. But none of the neighbors had ever seen her, and that became a puzzle to me. Even the Perezes said they had never actually seen the child. How was that even possible? The yard was closed in and surrounded by very high bushes, but the girl must have left the house every now and then, right? Going to the park and playground? Someone had to have seen her. According to her mother, she had never even been to the doctor, which I found very strange. When my children were that age, I ran to the doctor once a week, or so it felt. They were sick all the time.