One Last Breath Sarah Sutton (free e books to read online .TXT) 📖

want her to poke around and see who’d been coming around when she was already suspicious.

She explained all this to John, and he nodded. It made sense to him too.

Suddenly, Tara’s phone vibrated on the counter in front of her. She looked down. Warren’s name flashed across the screen, and she immediately picked up. She knew he could either just want to reconvene early, or he could have some important news.

Before she could even say hello, Warren spoke. “Mills,” he started, his voice filled with urgency. The next words burst out of his mouth. “Another teenager never came home last night.”

***

Within just over two hours, Tara pulled into a parking lot right along the beach. A sea of police vehicles and news vans lined the side of the road. She quickly got out and made her way through the endless questions from reporters. She then stood behind the yellow tape on the sandy beach, peering around for Warren.

When she last spoke to him, a body wasn’t found, and she could now see that it still hadn’t been. Cops and forensics were tearing apart the beach in every direction. Cadaver dogs were being led over the sand dunes by officers, each in an assigned section spread out for about a mile stretch. She could see Warren up ahead, speaking to Sheriff Patel. She walked over.

“Anything yet?” she asked.

Warren shook his head. “Still no body.”

Sheriff Patel said, “We checked for about a five-mile stretch down this beach. If he buried the victim here, he sure didn’t do it close to the first two.”

“Could she still be alive?” Tara asked.

“It’s of course possible.”

Tara felt a surge of adrenaline. She suddenly felt as if they were wasting precious time. She could see the same urgency in Warren’s eyes.

“What do we know so far?” she asked.

Tara already knew certain details. Warren had filled her in on the way. The victim was Sofia Hernandez, sixteen. She had ridden her bike home from a friend’s house and never made it. Sheriff Patel only reiterated those points.

“Did we find her bike?” Tara asked.

Sheriff Patel’s shoulders slumped as he shook his head in disappointment, but then he perked up. “We think the killer might’ve called the victim’s sister.” It was a new bit of information that Tara hadn’t heard before, and she could see it was new to Warren as well; he had arrived at the beach only moments before Tara.

“How do you know?” Warren asked.

Sheriff Patel sighed. “I was over there this morning, interviewing them, and she got the call. She put it on speaker, and someone was breathing really heavy on the other line and then started laughing and hung up. There was something really chilling about it.”

A shiver ran down Tara’s spine. The killer was mocking them now. “Were you able to trace it?”

Sheriff Patel shook his head. “I tried, but he hung up right before I could, and then he didn’t call back.” He then looked up, twisting his mouth in confusion. “It’s almost like he knew. Like he stayed on just long enough before I could trace him.”

Tara and Warren shared a look. It was another detail that made their original theory plausible—that this was someone who knew a thing or two about investigations. Tara spoke to Warren. “I say we go talk to them.” They both knew there was no point in hanging around the beach without a body to review. For all they knew, the victim could still be alive, and if that were true, the clock was ticking.

Chapter Sixteen

Tara and Warren arrived at a beautifully large home, layered with cedar siding. A wide-open porch sat on the top floor of the front of the house, directly under the sun. Tara had already called the family on the way. She had asked that the friend who had last seen the victim be present as well, and Tara hoped that one of the three cars in the driveway was hers.

They knocked, and a tall, strikingly beautiful woman came to the door. She had shoulder-length auburn hair and bangs cut stylishly across her forehead. She was older, Tara assumed in her mid-forties, but her skin was still tight and youthful. She looked at them with sheer fear for a moment, until she realized who they were, that Tara was the one who had just called. She most likely assumed they were there to tell her some unfortunate news, but at the realization that they weren’t, she sighed. Tara knew immediately who she was: the victim’s mother.

The mother was always the easiest person to identify. There was a deep pain that lingered on her face as she faded into herself, trying desperately not to scream.

“Please come in,” she said as she moved away from the door.

They followed her across the dining room to a large, open living room with vaulted ceilings. The skylights above shined onto the four people sitting on the couch and in chairs. The woman took a seat on the couch next to her husband and daughter and introduced them all. The other two were the victim’s friend and her mother.

Tara and Warren sat down as well. The room fell into silence, but then Tara spoke. “So from what we understand, one of you received a call this morning?” She looked specifically toward the sister, who sat wedged on the couch between her mother and father. She must’ve been only a couple years older than the victim.

She nodded as she hesitantly raised her gaze from the floor to Tara, who asked her to recount what she heard.

“It was just a lot of heavy breathing, and then he laughed.” Her voice began to shake as she said the last words, and her gaze fell to the floor. The event had clearly traumatized her, and her father stroked her back.

“Did it sound like a male?” Tara asked.

“Definitely.”

“And did he sound young or older?”

She bit her lip as she thought. “It’s hard to tell just on a laugh, but I’d say