The Girl and the Unlucky 13 (Emma Griffin™ FBI Mystery) by A.J. Rivers (i have read the book .txt) 📕

I nod as I hand him his drink. “Yeah. That’s where everybody went to hang out until we got caught and they put up the fence.”

“Right. These places have that same kind of feeling, though. They don’t seem to be just random places or places she might have visited once,” he says.

“That’s what I thought, too,” I say. “They feel significant. Dean, did you notice anything new about them?”

“There’s definitely at least one building. This hazy coloration on the side here looks like brick. But that’s all I’ve been able to really narrow down right now. I’m not familiar with the area, so it’s harder to come up with ideas of what it might be,” he says.

For the next half hour we eat our way through the burritos and talk about the case, trying to piece together anything we can. It’s leaving us stumped, and that’s frustrating as hell. We’re getting ready to call it a night when Xavier wanders down the hallway back into the living room. He looks as if he’s still most of the way asleep.

“The only way two people can keep a secret is if one of them is dead. The internet never dies,” he says. “Emma, I want to ride a roller coaster for my birthday.”

“Okay, Xavier,” I say.

He turns and goes back to the bedroom. Dean and I look at each other.

“Holy shit,” Dean says.

I nod and grab my computer. Logging into Ashley’s social media, I scroll through until I find the names I’m looking for.

“Both are old accounts,” I point out. “Neither Vivian or Allison has posted on these accounts in a couple of years.”

“Probably moved on to newer and better things,” Sam says.

“Yeah,” I say. “Without Ashley.”

“Let’s see what kinds of secrets they’re keeping,” Dean says.

We go back through the accounts until we get to around the time Ashley disappeared, and we scrutinize the postings.

“Nothing,” I say after going through Allison’s page. “As in, literally. There are no posts for three days. That doesn’t make sense. She was all over it before that. And then after.”

We go through Vivian’s account and see that there are a few more postings than Allison’s, but nothing that seems to make any connection. I’m disappointed until I notice a comment.

“‘It looks better at night,’” I read. “What does that mean? Somebody posted that on a picture of her feet.”

“Not just anybody,” Dean points. “Look at the name.”

“Tegan Herrara,” I say. “That’s the guy Allison and Vivian said Ashley was with the night she disappeared.”

“And who died not long after,” Dean confirms.

“And he’s hitting on this girl…because of her feet?” Sam asks, sounding confused.

“I mean, maybe,” I say. “That’s a thing. But I don’t think so. I think there was another picture on this post and she deleted it.”

I click on Tegan’s name and scroll through the brief stretch after the disappearance. A picture immediately jumps out at me. “Look.”

Dean looks at the picture on the screen, then at his tablet. “That’s the same place. It’s a different angle and it’s obviously at night, but it’s the same place.”

I nod. “It’s from the night Ashley went missing.”

“From a time when they were supposedly at the campground,” Dean says. He pulls the computer toward him and narrows his eyes at the picture, tilting his head to get a different perspective. “Looks as if they couldn’t keep a secret.”

We break our meeting to get some sleep with the new knowledge not only of where the mysterious spot in the picture is, but also that we need to go there. We rest for a few hours and I’m back up putting in a video call to Allison and Vivian. They both look surprised to hear from me, and to realize they’re both on the call as well.

“I’m going to ask you a question that I think I know the answer to, but I need both of you to answer me honestly,” I start.

“Go ahead,” Vivian says.

“Is Sherando Ridge the only place the three of you girls went the night Ashley went missing?” I ask.

“Yes,” both of them answer.

“You didn’t go anywhere else?”

“I mean, before we went to the park we went to the store and picked up some food,” Allison shrugs.

“But you didn’t go anywhere after you got to the park? You went and you set up your tent, you went to Arrow Lake Campground, and back to your tent?”

“Yes,” Allison says.

“Okay,” I say. “So, do you want to explain to me why Tegan seemed to think all of you hung out behind the old elementary school?”

They aren’t in the same place, so they can’t exchange glances. That doesn’t stop them from looking at each other through the screen. Both of them are waiting for the other one to just say something. I know it’s because they weren’t ready for this moment. They didn’t have the chance to prepare anything to say.

“Behind the old elementary school?” Allison finally asks.

“Yes,” I confirm. “From what I understand, it’s somewhere you went pretty often.”

“How could he have told you that?” Vivian asks, the edge in her voice something close to being offended, but also just startled. “He’s been dead for years.”

“Yes,” I say. “He has. But his social media was never shut down. People love going on and leaving comments to him. They might not remember that all the posts you ever made are still there. Including the picture he posted the night Ashley went missing. A picture of the old school ground. The same place she posted pictures of, that same night.”

“That could have been any time,” Vivian counters. “He could have taken that picture days before.”

“Maybe,” I acknowledge. “But it doesn’t make a lot of sense. He commented on a picture of the school Ashley posted that day, saying it looked better at night. And then he posted a picture of that place at night. All of this posted the day she went missing. Meaning this activity was going