The Girl and the Unlucky 13 (Emma Griffin™ FBI Mystery)

by A J Rivers

  “Yes,” she nods. “That’s how we knew how to get here.”

  “Okay. So, you get here, and you set up your tent. What did you do then?”

  “We started a fire,” Allison chimes in. “Back then, there was a rock ring right in the corner over there. We got a fire going and started cooking the food we brought in.”

  “Right off the bat?” I frown. “You just got to your campsite and you’re already cooking? I thought you said you were there in the early afternoon.”

  “We were,” Allison says. “But we didn’t have enough ice in the cooler and we were worried about the food. So, we went ahead and cooked it. Ashley was worried about her parents. She hadn’t told them we were staying here overnight. Then she went to the bathhouse. She was gone for a while, and when she came back, she said everything was fine. She said she would be picked up in the morning. I figured she had talked to them and everything was okay.”

  “How about after that?” I ask. “That night and the next day.”

  “We hung out. Talked. Then we went to bed. The next morning, we woke up and made some coffee. Had breakfast. Then we decided to go on a hike,” Vivian starts.

  Allison makes a sound beside her and Vivian looks over.

  “A hike?” I frown. “Was that before or after you realized Ashley wasn’t with you anymore?”

  Vivian looks embarrassed and startled. She opens her mouth as if she’s going to say something, but she can’t get it out. A few sounds creak out into the thick air before she looks back at me.

  “I mean…” she starts.

  “It’s been a long time, Vivian. It’s hard to remember exactly what you told the police, isn’t it? Because according to what you told Ashley’s parents, the three of you argued that day and she stormed off. You knew they would pick her up, so you didn’t question it. I have to say, that makes a hell of a lot more sense than the story you just rattled off.”

  “Vivian,” Allison whispers.

  “What actually happened? Because I’ve known this story was a lie from the beginning. I just wanted to see how far you’d get yourself into it. So why don’t we start from the beginning again? Did you actually come here the day Ashley went missing?” I ask.

  Allison lets out a heavy sigh and Vivian nods.

  “Yes,” Vivian says. “We really did come here. That’s true. It really had been raining and we really were tired of being cooped up with our families, so we decided to come out here and have some fun.”

  “Who brought you here?” I ask. “The story of stealing your sister’s car is cute. It’s too bad you didn’t get to tell that one to the police. It would have given you more validity. But I know that’s not how you got here.”

  “My boyfriend,” Allison finally admits. “I told him we wanted to come out here, so he picked us up. He told us a couple of his friends were going to meet up with us later.”

  “Okay,” I say. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Is this actually where you set up your tent?”

  “Yes,” Vivian says. “This is the spot my family likes to camp in, so we came here.”

  “You set up your tent. What next? I can’t see three teenage girls going to the grocery store for supplies and making a full camp meal. And you already told me the weather was still overcast and cool enough that Ashley had to wear a hoodie. If that was the case, there would be no ice emergency.”

  “My boyfriend told me his friends were at the park, but they wanted to meet us at Arrow Lake. They’d heard all the stories about the campground and wanted to see it for themselves. We’d never been down there, so we took the hike down there. Brady was there with two of his buddies. One of them had hung out with us a few times before and had a crush on Ashley. She’d been talking about him a little bit for the last couple of weeks, so she was happy to see him there,” Allison says.

  “Okay, so you go to the campground. Is there anyone there? Did you see anything? What did you do?” Dean asks.

  “It really wasn’t that interesting,” Vivian says. “I think we were all a little bit disappointed. The whole idea of this haunted campground had been built up and when we got there, it was just like any other campground. It was just empty. It didn’t look to be in the best condition; there are a lot of campgrounds in this park that look rundown and old.”

  “We ended up going back to the campsite. Ashley and the guy, Tegan, were flirting and getting pretty friendly with each other. It was starting to get dark.”

  She looks over at Allison. Their eyes plead with each other without any words being said. I look between both of them, leaning slightly towards them as I wait for something else.

  “Go on,” Allison says. “At this point, we might as well tell her. She knows we haven’t told the truth.”

  Vivian’s shoulders drop as she lets out a breath, then turns back to me.

  “We got the fire going and were going to hang out for a while before going to sleep. But then Ashley said she and Tegan were going to be alone for a while. She said not to wait up.”

  “And you just let her go?” Dean asks.

  “Yes,” Vivian says without hesitation. “As I said, she had been talking about him for a couple weeks. It was obvious she really liked him.”

  “She was thirteen years old, Dean says.

  “And we were fifteen,” Allison counters. “You can’t expect us to think like adults, even if we wanted to act like them.”

  “When did you realize she was missing?” I ask.

  “The next day,” Vivian says.

  “That part was true,” Allison adds. “We woke up and she wasn’t in the tent with us. We just assumed she had gone off with Tegan and not come back until really late. Then her mom came and picked her up just as she’d told us. I didn’t know that wasn’t the truth until I took the backpack to her house and found out she wasn’t there. I realized she hadn’t actually talked to her mother the night before.”

  “Why do you think she would tell you that?” I ask.

  Both girls shook their heads.

  “I don’t know,” Vivian says.

  “It could have been Tegan,” Allison says. “She might have actually been unsure about staying until she talked to him and found out he was coming.”

  “Did you tell any of this to the police?” I ask.

  They shake their heads again.

  “No,” Allison says. “We’ve never told anyone. We didn’t want to get in trouble. But we also didn’t want to get the guys in trouble. They were a lot older than we were.”

  “So, you realize your best friend is missing, you know the last time you saw her she had gone off with some guy, and you don’t bother to say anything to anyone?” Dean asks.

  “We talked to him,” Vivian says quickly. “As soon as we found out Ashley was missing, we went and found Tegan. We asked him what happened, and he told us the two of them had gone off together, but she changed her mind.”

  “About having sex with him?” I ask.

  They seem startled by my blunt question, as if either they didn’t think I was following what they were suggesting, or they didn’t think I would actually say it.

  “Yes,” Allison says. “Tegan said they just made out for a while and fell asleep. When they woke up, it was really early, and she was upset because she needed to leave. He brought her back to the campground and he saw her running toward the bathhouse. He thought she just needed to use the bathroom, so he didn’t really hang around to watch her.”

  “But you just said you don’t think she talked to her mother the night before. So, why would she tell him she needed to leave? If her mother wasn’t coming to pick her up, where would she be going?” I ask.

  “It could have been somebody else,” Vivian shrugs.

  “What do you mean? Like who?” Dean asks.

  They exchange another one of those looks. I’m wishing this wasn’t the first time I’ve interacted with Vivian. It would have been better if I could have gotten the full story from both of them separately. But that’s not an option now;
I’m going to have to work with what I have.

  “Was there another guy she had been talking about?” I ask.

  “Yes,” Allison says. “He was older. We didn’t know him.”

  “What do you mean, ‘older’? You just said your boyfriend and Tegan were older.”

  “Yeah,” Allison nods. “But they were still teenagers.”

  “And you don’t think this guy was?”

  “Not by the way she talked about him. I think he was an adult. She’d started talking about waiting for Prince Charming. That’s what she would always say. She was waiting for Prince Charming, and one day he would show up and they would get married. She just didn’t know when,” Vivian explains.

  “And you didn’t mention that to the police, either?” I ask.

  “I did,” Vivian says.

  “What?” Allison gasps, sounding shocked. “You did?”

  “They don’t know it was me,” she clarifies. “I called the tip line they set up after she went missing and told them everything I knew. It never went anywhere. I figured that meant we were wrong.”

  “Or they just couldn’t find him,” Dean says.

  “Are you still in contact with Tegan? I think it would be helpful to talk to him.”

  “No,” Allison says. “He died in a motorcycle accident a couple weeks after Ashley disappeared.”

  Dean and I sit in the car after walking out of the woods, watching the girls cling to each other again. They stand beside Vivian’s car, hugging and talking in voices too low for us to hear all the way across the lot.

  “What are you thinking?” Dean asks.

  I don’t take my eyes off the girls.

  “That they just fed us a load of bullshit,” I say. “Again.”

  “You don’t believe them?”

  “This little thirteen-year-old girl was supposedly all wrapped up in some unknown, unnamed adult man, but she went off into the woods to have sex with a teenage guy the night she thinks the adult man might come for her?” I ask.

  “They said she changed her mind,” Deans points out.

  “According to a guy who died right after she went missing. Don’t you find that a little convenient?”

  “Do you think there’s something suspicious behind the motorcycle accident?” he asks.

  “No. I think it was an accident. I also think it’s a smokescreen. It’s hard as hell to get corroborating details from a dead man.”

  “That’s true.” He looks through the windshield again as the girls finally part and get in their separate cars. “What I don’t understand is why they would change their story. The one they told her parents made sense. She got mad, she left, they thought they picked her up. Why change that?”

  “Five years is a long time to try to hang onto a lie. I don’t doubt guys were around that day. It’s just figuring out what they know.”

  “So, what’s next? Dean asks. “Can you go back to the police and ask them for the records again?”

  “Not the police,” I say. “Track down that tip line. Usually, they’re operated by an outside organization. See if they still have information from when Ashley first went missing. It’s entirely possible to find it still active. They could have recordings of the tips that were left. See if there actually is one about this Prince Charming.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asks as I take out my phone.

  “It’s about time the public sees Ashley’s parents again,” I say.

  Eighteen

  He sat in the recliner, watching the televised statement.

  It was the first time in years he had seen Thirteen’s mother like this. She hadn’t made a statement since a year after that summer.

  Now, there she was, begging for her child’s return.

  He knew her face. He knew her voice.

  No one, not even she, knew how many times their paths had crossed.

  He wondered what she knew.

  And why the two people behind her were there. He’d seen them before.

  The blond woman with quiet authority and eyes that cut like honed steel.

  The man beside her with the imposing presence of a lion and a sharp, piercing stare.

  They showed no emotion as the broken mother gripped the edge of the podium and pleaded for her daughter to come home. They were watching for something. Waiting.

  What did they know?

  Nineteen

  “And never forget what we always said to you, baby. Remember who you are. Remember where you came from. Nothing will ever matter more. We love you.”

  Misty steps back from the podium and takes a brief pause, almost as though she’s going to say something else. But then she turns and hurries away under the frantic shouting of questions from the reporters who came to watch her statement. They can sense the building tension. It’s like blood in the water for them.

  Dean and I go after her and I wrap my arm around her shoulder.

  “You did a great job,” I say. “That was perfect.”

  “You really think so?” Misty asks.

  “Yes,” I nod. “It was everything you needed to say and nothing you didn’t.”

  “You were so much stronger than I could have been,” John says. “Thank you for being able to be the one who did that.”

  “I just hope it does something,” Misty says. “I told you that when I heard about the murders at the campground, it gave me some hope. Just because it would be an answer, and I might finally know where Ashley has been for the last five years. But the truth is, I never wanted to really believe it. I want her to be out there. Somewhere. I know that means she could be going through something horrible, and I hate myself for even wanting that for a second.”

  “It’s not that you want her to be going through something horrible,” I assure her. “You just want her to be alive. You want her to be able to come back to you.”

  “It’s what I wanted for five years,” she says. “And maybe making this statement will make a difference to somebody.”

  “I know it wasn’t easy to do, but you’re right. It might make a difference. There have been plenty of times when a parent’s making a statement about a missing child has jogged the memory of somebody who saw something and didn’t realize it. Or unlocked a guilty conscience,” I tell her.

  “Maybe Ashley heard me,” she says. “I want her to know how much I love her.”

  I nod and rub her back to comfort and reassure her. I want to seem as optimistic about Ashley as I can, but it’s hard to with the statistics hanging over me. I know that’s exactly what Allison was talking about. I hate any investigator or police officer who would immediately jump on the idea of numbers and likelihoods to dismiss a grieving mother.

  But it’s impossible to ignore. I can’t pretend that I think this will have a happy ending. I will keep a smile on my face as much as I can for her parents, but there’s a dark feeling inside me that Ashley met her end a long time ago. It’s just a matter of finding out what happened to her and why.

  This public statement about Ashley, reminding people about her and her case, didn’t have the goal of bringing her home. That’s not the point. I’m hoping hearing about her will be enough to make people talk. Someone knows something. Something more than he or she is telling. And there might be far more people involved than we think. A mother’s words can be powerful. Often in ways she could never have imagined.

  While Dean goes back to the campground with Xavier and Ava, I go to the Stevenson house. We sit down in the living room to talk over the statement and how we’re going to move forward with the investigation. Misty brings out tea and cookies, but the tray is more or less a centerpiece. None of us reaches for either one.

  “There’s something somewhat sensitive I need to speak with you about,” I say after a few seconds.

  John and Misty look at each other and John stands up.

  “I need to do some work in my office, anyway. Let me know if I can be of any help,” he says.

  I wasn’t expecting him to leave, but
I realize it does lessen some of the tension surrounding the conversation. While I would have been interested to hear what he has to say about it, just having Misty here might let her open up more than she would have if her husband was here.

  “Dean and I have been talking with Allison and Vivian about the day Ashley went missing,” I start. “We know Vivian’s family wasn’t there with them at the campground. But they revealed to us that they weren’t alone, and someone else might have been involved in her disappearance.”

  Misty’s face goes pale. She reaches for one of the cups of tea, but her fingers brush against the handle and fall rather than picking it up.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, her voice soft and shallow. “What happened to her?”

  “I don’t know the details,” I say. “But I need to ask you… was Ashley involved with any guys?”

  “Boys?” Misty asks, her voice now rising in shock. “No. Absolutely not. She was only thirteen.”

  “I understand that,” I say. “But there are plenty of girls that age who are already well on their way in that category.”

  “Are you suggesting something about Ashley?”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head for emphasis. “I’m not suggesting anything. All I’m asking is if you ever heard your daughter talking about guys, or if you think that she might have met up with one that night.”

  “No,” she repeats. “That’s ridiculous. Not Ashley. She wasn’t like that. She had her rebellious moments, of course. All thirteen-year-old girls do. But not those kinds. She was still just a little girl.”

  “Okay,” I say, pulling back before she can totally shut down. “How about her computer and her phone? Were they part of the investigation?”

  “Her phone was with her. It’s never been found. The police searched her computer, but said they didn’t come up with anything,” she says.

  “Is it still here?” I ask.

  She nods. “Yes. I kept her room just as it was. I suppose that’s silly.”

  “No. It’s perfectly normal.”