I pulled out the paper with the deed of the house from the county and slid it across the table for him to look at. He stopped talking and stared at it.

I pointed with my finger, then stated for the recording, “I’m showing Mr. Perez evidence eight A.” I looked at him. “This is your name, right? On that line here?”

His shoulders slumped, and he became less guarded. “Y-yes.”

“Okay, let’s try it again then,” I said. “What is the nature of your relationship with Miss Clemens?”

“I… I don’t know how to answer that.”

“You paid for her house,” Big Tom said. “You own it and paid her mortgage.”

“Yes, that is true. The house is mine. I used to live there before I met my wife. We needed something bigger when Cassandra was born, but wanted to stay in the neighborhood, and so we bought the one across the street.”

“So, Marissa rented that house from you?” I asked.

He nodded.

“For the purposes of the tape, Mr. Perez has confirmed…” I paused. “There’s nothing wrong with that, except she didn’t pay any rent, did she? We’ve been through your bank records. No deposits or transfers from her. She could never afford a house like that on her nurse’s salary.”

He swallowed and looked up at me, suddenly looking like an even smaller man, almost a young boy.

“Listen,” I said, trying to sound friendly so he would start talking, “if you had an affair with her, it’s okay.”

He stared at me, his nostrils flaring. I could tell he was ready. He knew he had to start talking. There was no other way out. He shook his head.

“No,” he said, his voice breaking. He put his hand to his side, as if he was in physical pain. I took notice of it, thinking about the glass by the dumpster and the blood in Ashley’s condo.

He was silent for a moment, then added softly, “I swear. It was nothing like that. Please, you must understand. I was just trying to help her. That’s all. Her and that sweet little girl.”

I looked up and met his eyes. This was the first time someone besides Marissa confirmed that Emma actually existed.

“So, have you met the girl?”

FORTY-THREEMARISSA

Be still my heart, be still. Please.

Marissa stared at the door to the shed, heart throbbing loudly in her chest. She felt dizzy, almost overwhelmingly nauseated. She closed her eyes briefly to steady herself, then reached out and pushed the bolt aside, slowly, making sure she didn’t make a sound and let anyone know she was there.

Careful.

As the door swung open, fear and dread stirred up inside of her, making her chest tighten. She felt such turmoil inside, she almost closed the door again.

She stared into the small room and, taking in a deep breath, she entered the shed, a shiver running down her spine. She could hear something inside and quickly spotted what it was.

Emma.

It was her. It really was. She was huddled in the corner, trembling and crying. Hiding her face, leaning her head on her pulled-up knees. Marissa could barely contain the joy of seeing her daughter again, and it almost paralyzed her at first.

“E-Emma?”

Her voice was barely a whisper; it was hoarse and strained. Her eyes were filled with tears, and she could barely get the word across her lips, no matter how much she wanted to. She pulled off her mask.

“It’s me. It’s Mommy.”

The girl stopped crying and looked up at her. The sight of her blue eyes and strawberry blonde hair made Marissa’s heart skip several beats, and she could barely breathe.

“It’s me, Emma.”

For a second, she feared the girl didn’t recognize her, and it overwhelmed her with sadness. But the moment their eyes met, Emma burst into a smile, a gorgeous wonderous smile, and said, “M-mommy?”

“Yes, Emma, it’s me. I’m here. I found you.”

After Marissa removed her restraints, Emma, giggling happily like she always did when seeing her mother, embraced her. Marissa closed her eyes and held her tight, so tight she realized she had to be careful not to hurt her. She was just so happy, so relieved to finally be with her again, to feel her close. She rocked Emma gently in her arms, murmuring words of comfort as she stroked her hair, smelling the top of it, and kissing her chubby cheeks, tears streaming down her own as she did.

Finally. Finally, they were together again.

“Where were you, Mommy?” the girl asked, tilting her head.

Marissa smiled and hugged her again, her heart aching for her daughter’s pain but also with guilt for causing it.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here now. I will never leave your side again. Let’s go.”

Barely had she said the words, when she heard a sound coming from behind them. Marissa spun around with a gasp, only to see the door slam shut behind her. She ran to it and hammered her hands on the soundproofed material. She tried to open it, to push it, but it had been locked from the outside. Panic rose fast within her as she realized that they were locked in.

“Help! Help!”

No matter how much she pounded and shouted, no one answered. No matter how much she pleaded, no one came to her aid. Marissa felt a chill settle over her as she suddenly understood that they were both prisoners.

FORTY-FOURBILLIE ANN

“You’re telling me that you met Marissa Clemens’s daughter?” I had to repeat the question, as it was important to me that we fully understood each other.

Mr. Perez, sitting in the interrogation room, nodded, his eyes avoiding mine.

“I was trying to help them. They were running away from something.”

Running? My mind was spinning. “Okay, let’s take this from the beginning, shall we? When did you first meet them?”

Mr. Perez took a deep breath before beginning his story. His hands were clammy, and he wiped them on his jeans, while his eyes darted around the room nervously.

“It was four years ago,” he said with a sniffle. “I came home, my wife and Cassandra were out of town, visiting my mother-in-law who was in the hospital in Atlanta, Georgia, where my wife is from. They flew up there on a Thursday and were going to stay the entire weekend to be with her, as she was very sick.”

He exhaled and took a sip of water. I studied him, wondering if he was a very good actor or was actually telling the truth.

“You gotta understand,” he added, setting the cup back down, “I have only been lying to protect her.”

“I understand,” I said. “Continue. You came home from work and then what happened?”