“We need to talk about Abby Correia. As you know, she’s been missing since Tuesday afternoon.”
“Yes.” The corners of her mouth pulled down. “Awful. First it was Erica and now Abby. I really hope you find those girls.”
Mackenzie exchanged a solemn glance with Justin. “Well, Abby never came back home from school. Her mother reported her missing yesterday morning. Her school bag is also missing.”
“Yes, I discussed the basic details with Detective Armstrong. Some officers showed up yesterday and took statements as well. As I told them, Abby definitely attended school on Tuesday. A lot of people saw her leave on foot when school ended. I checked the attendance. I even remember seeing her after recess, heading to class.”
“You saw her on Tuesday?”
“Yes. I like to do my rounds around the school.” She fixed her glasses. “Also, I’ve been keeping my eye on Abby since Erica went missing. Poor girl took it hard. Around two months after that, she walked out of Algebra. I found her crying hysterically in the bathroom.”
“They were best friends?”
“They were.”
“Was she acting any different on Tuesday?”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not particularly close to any of the students. But by all accounts, she has been disturbed for around a year now.”
“Is there anyone she was close to? Other than Erica?”
Burley bit her lower lip. “I don’t know, I’m afraid. But let me think. She did see our counselor, Ian Coleman, a few times.”
“Coleman?” The name was familiar. It took her a few seconds to remember that she had seen the name on Abby’s bottle of antidepressants.
“You can speak to him. I can direct you to his office.”
“Sure. Also, could you open Abby’s locker for us? We could get a warrant, but I was hoping you would be cooperative.”
“Of course!” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Anything to help you find our students. Please follow me. Her locker is right here.”
A crowd was beginning to gather in the hallway. Students stood with their backpacks around Abby’s locker. Burley turned around and raised her voice. “Keep walking!”
They scattered like rats fleeing a sinking ship.
A locker across from Abby’s was decorated with flowers and messages written in Sharpie. A framed picture of Erica rested against it on the floor.
“Erica’s locker,” Mackenzie mumbled.
“Yes, it was very kind of the students to leave encouraging messages for her.”
Waiting for you, Erica!
We miss you.
We’ll never give up on you!
Stay strong, Erica.
“That’s thoughtful of them.” Mackenzie crossed her arms. “How’re you going to open the locker?”
Burley pulled out a key and waved it proudly. “Master key opens all the lockers.” She twisted the lock. The door opened with a low creak. “Here you go.”
“Thank you, Joanne. We’ll take it from here.” Mackenzie gave her a pressing look as she pulled on latex gloves.
Burley faltered but then nodded vehemently. “Of course. Got it. I’ll be in my office if you need anything. Dr. Coleman’s office is just down the hall on the left.”
She wobbled away in her high heels. Mackenzie pitied the future of her ankles.
Abby’s locker was sparse but organized. Stacks of books were piled on the top shelf. There was a spare hooded sweatshirt and a towel hanging up. A pencil case revealed stationery only; no scribbled notes from fellow students. Mackenzie pulled out a tattered notebook that looked different from the others. Scanning the pages briefly, she saw the words Dear diary. It looked like her private journal. She held on to it.
“Pretty standard locker,” Justin said.
“Yeah.” Mackenzie clicked her tongue. “I was expecting boy band stickers, but this is very minimalist.”
The door of the locker had a mirror and a picture of Erica and Abby. They had clicked it in the washroom in cheerleading outfits. “Were they on the team?” she asked Justin.
He checked his notebook. “Abby wasn’t. But Erica was, from what I remember on the news. The cheerleading team performed a routine and named it after her to honor her.”
“Maybe this was from when they both tried out for the squad.”
Abby and Erica stood in front of the mirror. Abby was holding the camera while Erica waved her pink pom-pom in the air.
Mackenzie checked the pocket of the sweatshirt. She rummaged through the case of stationery and flipped through the pages of every textbook. Justin followed suit and double-checked. She inspected the back of the mirror and the back of the picture. When she removed the picture, her eyes caught something.
The number 916 was scratched into the door of the locker. It could have been written by Abby, it could have been there for years. Mackenzie mentally filed it and put the picture back. “No immediate clues. We’ll need to go through the diary.”
“Hopefully Dr. Coleman will provide some useful information.”
“Let’s hope so. I’ll go and talk to him. Why don’t you find Principal Burley and get her to lock this again? Also,” she took out one of Abby’s exercise books, “keep this. Get Forensics to do a handwriting match with the contents of the checkbook. There was an incomplete check in there. Maybe they can use that as a reference.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Eleven
Mackenzie followed the directions Burley gave her. She wondered if all high schools looked the same. Growing up, she had always believed that she would attend Lakemore High. It was a public school, but it was prestigious. Even the rich kids went there. It received more funding than any other school in the county, which had nothing to do with student performance.
It was about the Lakemore Sharks—the crown jewel of a dwindling town.
She saw a girl putting books in her locker. Her forehead was crumpled; her nose scrunched up. It was then Mackenzie noticed that her thumb was bleeding. The girl took out a bandage from her purse and started nursing her wound.
Suddenly, Mackenzie was fifteen years old and back in New York. She had tripped and fallen while running track. Her knees were scraped. Blood and sand covered her skin. It didn’t hurt—it only burned. But Mackenzie’s heart galloped. Cold sweat broke out on her skin. She ran into the washroom. Luckily, it was empty. All she did was stare at the reflection of her bleeding knees. All she saw was blood. It was as red as her father’s.
So much blood.
“Excuse me?” A blonde man snapped her out of her thoughts. He was short and spectacled. Dressed in a sweater vest, he looked like he belonged behind a computer. “I realized you have been standing in front of my door for some time.”
“Oh!” Mackenzie shook her head. She looked for the girl, but she was gone. She glanced at the door. “Right. Dr. Coleman, I was looking for you actually. I’m Detective Price.”
He raised his eyebrows at her badge. “Please, come inside. How can I help you?”
“Interesting image.” She pointed at an abstract painting on his office wall, next to a mental health poster.
“Yes. That’s one from the inkblot test. You should take it sometime. Very interesting.”
She sat on the only spare chair in the room. “I’m investigating Abby Correia’s disappearance.”
“Joanne told me this morning the police would be here again today.”
“She mentioned you had seen Abby a couple of times.”
He twirled a pen between his fingers as he spoke. “I did. You must have heard how close Erica and Abby were. After Joanne found her crying in the bathroom, she convinced her to see me.”
Mackenzie’s eyes moved to the framed psychotherapy degree certificate behind him. “The students are fortunate to have someone as qualified as yourself to talk to. Although it seems a less lucrative path for a doctor to take, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Coleman dipped his head, conceding the point. “I split my time be
tween the school and private practice. Teenage mental health has never been a more pressing issue for society, and adolescent psychology has always been an interest of mine.”
“How many times did you meet Abby?”
“Around five or six.”
“Were the meetings only at school or did you meet her outside?”
He frowned. “Only at school. I-I wouldn’t meet students off-campus.”
“Of course.” She smiled. “When was the last time you met with her?”
“About two months ago.”
“How was her behavior? Had you noticed any changes over the last school year?”
He looked thoughtful. “Yes, she was different. In the beginning, nearly a year ago now, she was always crying. She talked a lot about Erica. How much she missed her. How worried she was. But in the last six months, things had changed.”
“You saw her during the summer?”
“Yes, she was taking two summer courses to get ahead. I continue to work part-time here in the summer, so students can see me year-round if need be.”
“I see. So, the last six months were different. How?”
He cleared his throat and set down his pen. “She became more quiet, jumpier. Almost paranoid, I would say. She didn’t cry as much, but she was always nervous. She talked less. I had to force her to share her feelings with me. Initially, I thought that this was her way of coping. But now that she’s missing, I don’t know.”
“Did she ever mention anyone else? Any event in her life? Any boyfriend? Trouble at home?”
“Nothing of that sort. It was either all about Erica or just silence.”
“Did she ever confide in you that she was depressed or struggling?”
“Abby? No way!” he scoffed. “She talked about Erica, but she never mentioned how upset she was. It was a challenge. She believed that being depressed was a sign of weakness. Even though I told her repeatedly that it wasn’t. But she was a tough nut.”
“I’m assuming that she never asked you to prescribe her any medication?” She looked pointedly at the prescription pad on his table.
“No!” Coleman’s eyes widened. “What is this about?”
“I found a bottle of antidepressants in her bedroom. Your name was on the label.”
“W-what? I… That makes no sense. I’m sorry, but I never gave her anything.”
“Have you prescribed medication to any other student?”
“I have, but I don’t prescribe meds to the kids here.”
Mackenzie nodded at the prescription pad again.
He raised his hands. “Okay, okay. That’s for the teachers—I see some of them too, for some extra money. I work for a private practice, but I’m not a partner, and this way I get the full fee. My wife took my money and left with my brother.” He laughed, nervously. “It’s been a difficult time for me too.”
“I’m sorry.” Mackenzie offered him her card. “Thank you, Dr. Coleman. I might be in touch if I have more questions. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you think of anything.”
“Certainly.”
Mackenzie left his office with more questions. She looked at her notebook again. If Abby could forge her mother’s signature, she could easily have copied Coleman’s. Unless Coleman lied and didn’t want to admit to giving out dubious prescriptions to teenagers.
Is that why she was stealing money? To pay Coleman for meds?
Six months ago, Abby started stealing money from her mother. Six months ago, she started acting strangely. She stared at the words “quiet,” “jumpy,” “nervous,” and “paranoid.”
What happened six months ago?
Twelve
“For those of you who have just joined us, the Lakemore PD has confirmed that the body discovered last night in the woods behind Hidden Lake belongs to Erica Perez. The daughter of business tycoon Samuel Perez, Erica went missing last year on September eleventh.” The screen shifted to the picture of Erica that was planted all over the city. “The year-long mystery had captivated the imagination of the residents of Lakemore. The sixteen-year-old was reported missing after her parents found her bedroom empty on the morning of September twelfth last year. The window to her bedroom was left open. The police immediately treated the disappearance as a case of abduction. Now, this is a homicide.”
They were gathered around the tiny television screen that sat in the corner of the office. Finn chewed the end of his pen. Troy swayed on his chair. Ned drank his coffee. Sully tweaked the end of his mustache. Jenna, another junior assigned to the Detectives Unit, twirled a strand of her hair. All their eyes were trained on the screen. They didn’t blink. They didn’t move. They didn’t talk.
Mackenzie stood in the middle, her arms crossed and shoulders stiff.
“The family’s spokesperson has requested that the family be left alone at this time of grieving as they come to terms with the untimely death of Erica. Detective Nick Blackwood of the Lakemore PD had this to say…”
The scene shifted again. The logo of Lakemore PD was displayed on a podium. The room buzzed with cameras clicking and people whispering. Nick walked on stage, dressed in a black suit. Mackenzie noticed his hair was gelled and combed. He had made an effort for the briefing, but he also looked fresh. Perhaps because he had some answers.
He read out from a file: “Thank you all for coming. We regret to inform you that yesterday evening, September thirteenth, we discovered the remains of Erica Perez, who had been missing since September eleventh last year. Since this is an ongoing murder investigation, we cannot divulge many details. What we can share is that Erica’s time of death has been narrowed to the months between September and November last year. We have strong reason to believe that Erica was killed very soon after she was taken. Lakemore PD offers its deepest sympathies and condolences to the friends and family of Erica. If anyone has any information on the case, we urge you to call the hotline we have set up. We are going to do everything we can to make sure Erica gets justice. We won’t be taking any questions today. Thank you.”
He hurried off the stage and ignored the questions the journalists inevitably shouted at him regardless. In the background, the anchor’s voice echoed. “It is truly heartbreaking that Erica’s story has come to such a sad end. We wish Lakemore PD the best in hunting down the killer and ensuring that justice is done.”
Troy turned off the television. “No wonder Peck was being a douche today.”
“Perez called him and shouted at him,” Sully revealed. “He’s livid. Blaming the entire thing on us.”
Mackenzie smoothed the wrinkles on her sleeves. “Perez is paying for more airtime on television—asking for information. They didn’t even mention Abby.”
“Come on, Mack. His daughter was murdered,” Sully said.
“And her best friend is missing. There’s a chance that she is alive and might be killed soon if we don’t find her. I hate to say this, but abduction is more time-sensitive than homicide.”
They all fell quiet. The air became brittle enough to snap. Mackenzie counted to ten in her head. “Jenna, did you get the CCTV footage from the bank and the gas station?”
“Yes,” Jenna almost choked on her gum. “We only have the video from the bank. I checked for the entire week. Every day you can see Abby walk past it on her way back from school, but the day she disappeared, she wasn’t there.”
“Which suggests either she took another route or something happened to her before she got to the bank,” Mackenzie said. “Did you check carefully?”
“Yes. Twice. I can send you the video so that you can look at it yourself.”
“I would like that. Thank you.” She turned around and walked to her desk.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Jenna roll her eyes and scoff. She knew it was at her expense. She knew she was “overkill” in Jenna’s opinion. But she reminded herself that Abby was the priority. Still, vanity forced her to spin around.
“Why don’t you have the footage from the gas station?”
“They erase their previous recordings every Wednesday morning. We just missed it.”
“Did you ask if they keep backup? Because a lot of businesses do.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that.” She looked flustered.
“It’s alright. That’s why you have us to help you. Please see to it immediately.” Mackenzie smiled sweetly and tilted her neck.
Jenna nodded curtly and left the office. Troy had a grin on his face.
“Shut up, Troy. I have a lot to deal with.”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy. Everyone knows Jenna has an attitude problem.” He shrugged.
“Maybe next time you can be the one to set her straight.”
“Hell, no. I have an image to maintain.”
Sully emerged from his office, wearing his coat. “Boys and girl, we’re running late. Everyone out now! Do not anger my wife. I’m the one she goes home with, and I’m your boss. You anger my wife, you anger your boss.”
Mackenzie watched with furrowed brows as everyone started packing their bags. “Did I miss something?”
“Come on, Mack. You said two weeks ago that you would come!” Sully fanned his hands out. “I’m not listening to any excuse.”
“I have a lot of work to do,” she argued.
“It’s eight in the evening.”
“I have potential sighting reports––”
“Jenna and Justin are on top of it.”
“But––”
“It’s an order, Mack.”
Thirteen
An hour later, Mackenzie was sandwiched between Finn and Ella, Troy’s fiancée. Oaktree Pub was packed for a Thursday night. The regulars were perched by the bar. Groups of college boys and girls were jostling around the pool table. Posters for Lakemore Sharks and Jefferson Frogs from Spokane decorated the walls. Mackenzie was glad that there wasn’t a game on tonight. She guessed a teenager was in charge of the jukebox because pop music blared through the speakers.
Our Daughter's Bones: An absolutely gripping crime fiction novel (Detective Mackenzie Price Book 1) Page 6