Girl, 11 by Amy Clarke (best memoirs of all time TXT) 📕

the silence rest between them. She finished a note and met Elle’s gaze again. “I noticed you didn’t talk about what you did earlier in the day. The time you spent with Detective Hyde.”

Elle froze with the mug lifted halfway to her lips. Slowly, she set it back on the table. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh. He and I had an interesting chat. Seems you didn’t tell him I had asked you to take a step back from Amanda’s case?” Ayaan’s head tilted to the side as she held Elle’s gaze.

Elle took a bigger drink than she intended, scalding her throat. Her eyes watered as she tried to keep from coughing. “I’m sorry. We got to talking in the lobby, and he asked if I’d found anything on Leo, and then I had an idea about where the van was headed on the security footage that came through . . . I just wanted to help. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse.”

For a moment, they looked at each other in silence. Finally, Ayaan nodded. “Probably not the time to bring it up, I suppose. But you must have known I would find out; I wish you had told me yourself.”

“You know me, Ayaan. I’ve always been more of the better-to-ask-forgiveness-than-permission sort of person.”

Frustration sparked in Ayaan’s eyes. “If we’re going to be able to work together in the future, you can’t be that way with me. I consider you a friend, Elle, not just a colleague. I’d like us to trust each other.”

Elle looked at the pale green liquid in her mug, fiddled with the string hanging over the rim. “You’re right. It won’t happen again.” She wanted that to be true, but the promise rang hollow. There was so much Ayaan didn’t know about her. Maybe if Elle had trusted her sooner, Amanda would still be alive. As soon as the thought tried to burrow into her head, she pushed it away. She had done the best she could with the information she had. Shouldering the blame wouldn’t bring Amanda back, wouldn’t help her find Natalie.

Ayaan cleared her throat. “Now, can you think of any reason why Amanda’s body was left on your doorstep?”

“I . . . Martín and I were talking about this right before it happened. That maybe TCK was attacking me for covering him on the podcast. But I was wrong about him, Ayaan. I’m sorry. I was so sure, but this isn’t TCK. The victim showing up five days later, with no marks from whipping and killed by asphyxiation? It doesn’t make sense.”

“How do you know she was asphyxiated?”

“Martín. At least, that was his guess.” Elle’s fingers shook on the tea mug.

Ayaan nodded, wrote something down.

Elle continued: “So, I don’t know. If it’s not TCK, then I don’t know why the person seems to be coming after me. The only other thing I can think is—” She paused, shaking her head. The thought had been prodding at her for the last few hours, too horrible to allow in.

“What?” Ayaan leaned forward. “What do you think?”

“I’m sure I’m overreacting.” Elle looked away, focusing on the window behind Ayaan. She wondered if Sam was in there, watching her, and then she kicked the idea away. This was not an interrogation. Finally, she said, “I’ve been getting threatening emails lately. Some private messages on social media. Tina reported a few to our local PD, but last I checked, most of the IP addresses showed they came from out of state—some even from overseas.”

“Why didn’t you mention this before?”

Elle looked at her, surprised to see the commander’s eyes glowing with concern. “I get harassed all the time for the work I do. I thought the spike in messages was just because the podcast had gotten more popular, was reaching more people. Plus, conversations about TCK always bring out the trolls. I didn’t think it was relevant to our investigation, and like I said, Tina had the locals looking into the ones that seemed to know my address.”

“But you were concerned about your safety. Didn’t you think I should know about that?”

“A little girl was missing, Ayaan. Compared to that, my concerns seemed small. Still do.” Elle cleared her throat, trying to rid it of the tightness brought on by another wave of emotion. “If someone took Natalie as a way of tormenting me because of this podcast . . .” The depravity of people shouldn’t surprise her anymore, but sometimes shock still broke through.

“Okay, Elle. When you get home, please send me everything you and Tina have flagged, including the stuff you sent to the local department. I’ll get in touch to let them know we’re taking over.”

Ayaan folded her hands on top of her notepad. Her expression tensed, and Elle felt her shoulders bunch. It was one of the few times she’d ever seen Ayaan look hesitant.

“What is it?” Elle asked.

“Well, we didn’t know about the online harassment. So, that’s a possibility. But Sam and I have developed another theory I want to run past you. In fact, the two might fit together.”

Elle nodded for Ayaan to continue.

“We’re thinking along the same lines now in terms of this being related to your podcast. The second victim being so close to you and the first victim showing up dead at your house, wearing the coat of the second victim, make that almost undeniable. But we came at it from a different angle. We think it’s possible that someone has been inspired to copy TCK’s methods, carry the mantle of his countdown, so to speak.”

Elle stared at her, unsure what to say. The thought had crossed her mind before, but up until today every part of the kidnappings was so perfectly aligned with TCK’s methods that it seemed obvious it was him. A huge mistake like this, though—displaying a body two days early when TCK had never done so before—that had the marks of a sloppy mimic.

Ayaan pressed on. “You said yourself that the man who took Amanda and Natalie couldn’t be TCK, because he never reveals his victims early.