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shared a glance. They knew what that meant—that the case was going to be even harder than they expected.

“This killer knows what he’s doing,” he added. “I couldn’t find any fibers, any DNA, or fingerprints.” He then turned to Tara and Warren. “I’d almost say this killer has done quite a bit of research or knows crime firsthand.”

“Any sign of sexual assault?” Warren asked.

Again the medical examiner shook his head. “Doesn’t seem sexually motivated.”

Tara and Warren thanked him and soon stepped outside the room. They now knew that the killer might have some knowledge of crime and forensic procedures. They had confirmation that the victim most likely knew the killer. Now they knew why no one on the street had heard anything. The victim was most likely taken willingly and then killed later at another location. And now they knew for certain that it wasn’t sexually motivated. All these details made the case suddenly much more complicated, and it gave Tara an uneasy feeling.

“Maybe we should get a hold of the Whites?” Tara suggested. If Reese knew her attacker, it was likely that Alyssa did too. They would just have to find out someone they had in common.

“My thoughts as well,” Warren admitted, and they were soon headed to the car.

***

The phone rang on the table in front of them as they anxiously waited for someone to pick up. Tara and Warren sat alone in a room of the police station. It was quiet except for the ringing echoing off the walls and the voices of police officers each time one walked past their door.

They had been given Alyssa White’s mother’s phone number. The family had moved, they were told, from the shores of New Jersey to a town inland in Connecticut. Tara could only assume that living in the home where their daughter had once lived became unbearable.

The phone had rung five times already, and hope began to slip from Tara’s mind. They needed Alyssa’s family to answer. If not, then they would officially be at a dead end. But just when Tara was sure it would go to voicemail, a voice was heard.

“Hello?” It was a woman’s voice, raspy and tired.

Tara looked at Warren. It did not sound like the voice of someone they would expect. From what they knew about Alyssa’s family so far, they were wealthy socialites. Her father was the owner of a commercial real estate company and her mother was apparently a well-known local fitness instructor. However, this woman didn’t sound like a fitness instructor at all. In fact, she sounded like someone who didn’t take care of herself.

“Mrs. White?” Tara questioned, just to make sure.

She coughed into the phone. “Yes?”

Tara introduced herself, explaining who she and Warren were. “We were just hoping we could ask you a couple questions.”

The woman remained silent for a moment, as if contemplating if she should, but then she agreed. “I suppose that’s all right,” she said. “But I already spoke to police when they told me they found my Alyssa.” Her voice shook as she said her daughter’s name, and she stopped to steady herself. “It just seems like I’ve been answering questions over and over again for a year, and still that psycho is out there.” Anger swelled in her voice as she spoke louder with each word, and then ended with a coughing fit. “Sorry,” she said when done. “I have bad asthma, and smoking cigarettes doesn’t help.”

Not only did it not help her asthma, but it sounded a bit suicidal to Tara. However, she also understood it was a reflection of this woman’s pain, and smoking had been a bad habit to cope.

“Did your daughter ever speak of anyone when she was in Dewey Beach? Maybe a friend she made, or a boy she liked?”

The woman didn’t hesitate. “No, and I already told the police this many times. There were a couple of girl friends from our hometown whose parents also owned houses there. She’s hung out with them during past summers, but they weren’t there that year. They were all getting ready to go off to college, as was Alyssa, but she loved Dewey Beach, and we promised her we would take her there before she left.” Her voice trailed off at the end as the remembrance of momentary happiness pulled at her wound.

“You have a son, correct?” Tara asked. She remembered reading it in Alyssa’s case file.

“Yes?”

“Did he ever bring anyone around your beach house?”

The woman let out an exasperated sigh. “No, my son has always been more into video games than people. Now, even more so, as you can imagine.”

Tara knew what she meant. She had gone through it too. The people whispering in town as she walked by. The children asking questions at school. It was probably another reason why the Whites moved to a different town.

Tara continued to ask her more questions. If her daughter ever seemed afraid. If she could think of anyone who would want to harm her, but each question was met with a simple no and logical reasoning.

Tara shifted in her seat and shared a frustrated glance with Warren before throwing her head back in exasperation. She then leaned forward, focusing again on the phone.

“Was there a place your daughter liked to go to often when she was in Dewey Beach?”

The mother thought for a moment. “Nowhere in particular. Just the beach, I’d say.” She then grew quiet, but Tara could sense that she was thinking some more. “Oh,” she finally said. “We all used to go kayaking once in a while. She loved it. She actually got a summer job there the year before she went missing, but she never finished out the summer. She said she didn’t like it. I was never quite sure why. I think she just wanted to spend time on the beach instead.”

“Do you know the name of the place?”

She thought for a moment. “Ocean Paddle, it was called.”

Tara asked her where, and she gave an address

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