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

rain and the cooler weather, the concrete would have retained the heat. She also didn’t mention either of the guys who were there. Just Vivian and Allison. I can understand her not remembering much. The combination of the alcohol and the trauma of being abducted could make it extremely difficult to recall anything from that time.”

“But she remembers the park,” Xavier says.

I nod. “She remembers going to the park to camp, and what it was like walking around there. But she doesn’t remember that it was Vivian’s boyfriend who drove them? Or that the guy she had a thing for was there?”

“You think she really doesn’t remember?”

“Maybe it’s time we refresh her memory a little.”

Forty-Three

“Do you really think this is necessary?” Misty asks, wrapping her arms wrapped around her chest as we talk in hushed tones in the hallway just outside the living room.

“Yes,” I say. “It’s been several days since Ashley got home. We still don’t know exactly what happened that night or where she’s been for the past five years. I know I’ve said this to you a few times before, but I feel it bears repeating. The longer it takes for us to identify the person who has been holding your daughter, the less likely it is we’ll ever be able to find him. Not only does that mean that there will be no accountability for what he did to Ashley, but he will be free to do it to someone else. And I assure you, if he did it to her, the chances are extraordinarily high he will do it to someone else, if he hasn’t already. I don’t think I need to go into detail about the types of things she could have gone through, but…”

Misty shakes her head, closing her eyes as if so stop the words from getting to her.

“I get it,” she finally says. “I understand. I just don’t want to hurt her any more than she already has been. I wish there was some other way.”

“I know you do. But there isn’t another way. She is our only real source of evidence beyond a certain point in the night. The video I want to show her gives more of a look into the sequence of events of that night, but it doesn’t tell everything,” I say.

Misty looks confused. “The sequence of events? What do you mean? What happened?”

“I don’t want to say anything until Ashley has seen the video. I need her genuine reaction. I want her to be able to give whatever insight comes to mind without being influenced,” I say.

“You won’t even tell me what’s in this recording, but you expect me to give you authorization to show it to my traumatized child?” she asks, clearly offended and getting angrier.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Leona lurking just inside another room a few feet down the hallway. She’s obviously been listening to our conversation and is now looking at her mother with red-rimmed, widened eyes.

“Mom,” she says in a soft tone.

I pretend not to see her, wanting to know what she’s going to do.

“With all due respect, Misty, she isn’t a child. As I said in the hospital, she’s eighteen years old. She isn’t the same little girl who went out with her friends five years ago. She is an adult,” I say.

“Mom,” Leona whispers again.

“She might be eighteen years old, but you can’t possibly really think that means she’s an adult,” Misty counters. “Not after everything she’s been through.”

“Legally, she is. Until a court has determined she cannot be perceived as an adult, that is exactly what she is. I know she’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t automatically mean she’s been cognitively damaged or stunted. I know you want to protect her, but you have to give her the respect of acknowledging that she grew up in those years and can be an active part of this investigation,” I say.

“Alright,” Misty says.

“Mom,” Leona says again.

She says it almost as if she isn’t processing the change in the conversation. As though she’s just barely hanging on and waiting for her mother to respond to her.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“In her bedroom.”

I head up the stairs with Misty right behind me. I see the sign on the front of the door again, just as I had the first time I visited this room. Only this time, we don’t just go past it. We pause out in the hallway and knock lightly.

“Come in, “ Ashley says.

Misty steps into the room and gestures back at me.

“Honey, Agent Griffin is here. She has something she wants to show you and talk about.”

Ashley nods from her desk. I notice one hand is lightly rested on the front of her computer, her fingertips just supporting it, as though she had been on the computer only seconds before we walked in.

I give her a “Hey, Ashley. How are you doing?”

She nods. “Fine. Glad to be here.”

“It’s good to hear that. I know this isn’t easy, but I need to talk to you again about the night you went missing,” I say.

“I already told you everything I remember,” she says.

“Having gaps in your memory is completely normal,” I reiterate. “But it doesn’t mean you’ll never remember. Sometimes all it takes is seeing or hearing something from that time for it to unlock the memories your mind might have buried. The investigation uncovered some additional details from that night, and I hope they’ll help you put the pieces together.”

“What details?” she asks.

“Before I show you, think again. You told me that you remember Allison and Vivian being there, and that the ground was cold and hard. You were at Sherando Ridge and set up camp for the night. Anything else?”

Ashley shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

Misty rushes to her daughter’s side and squeezes her shoulders. “You have no reason to say you’re sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No,” I say. “Of course, you didn’t. This isn’t about you. Okay?