The Girl and the Unlucky 13 (Emma Griffin™ FBI Mystery) A.J. Rivers (historical books to read TXT) 📖

“Excuse me?” I ask.

“You know what she’s telling you isn’t the truth. So, why did you let her get away with it? You could have pushed her and asked her harder questions and she might have cracked.”

“First of all, Ashley isn’t the perpetrator here. She’s the victim. She’s been shattered already. You don’t need to crack her. Second, let me remind you that this is my investigation. You are helping. That’s it. That doesn’t mean you’re in charge, and it definitely doesn’t mean I’m open to suggestions on how to do my job. You did a fine job being the fake Ashley to make sure she got home without the media attention. There will be images of you splashed all over the news tonight along with confused headlines. Be glad you contributed,” I tell her, trying my best not to snap.

“I’m an FBI agent too, Emma,” Ava replies. “I got the education. I went through the training. I know what I’m doing.”

“In theory. That’s all it is right now. Theory. You’ve never done any of this before. You have no experience, no first-hand knowledge to fall back on,” I say.

“That’s what I’m trying to get now,” she points out. “I’m trying to be a part of this investigation, so I’ll be better equipped to handle my own. But even without experience, I know that she wasn’t telling you everything. You just didn’t dig deep enough. You could have told her what Allison told you. That might have triggered something.”

“I didn’t lead her,” I say. “I didn’t offer her information or feed her details that would influence what she’s able to tell me. Giving her the story could have stopped her from being able to remember the details. And she obviously told me a hell of a lot more than she told you. I know what I’m doing, Ava. Don’t ever forget that. It might not be what you think you would do, but I’m handling this exactly the way I intend to. Don’t try to get in my way. Maybe you’ll have your own investigation at some point and you can do whatever you want to. But this is mine.”

Ava falls silent, and I head away from the Stevenson house back toward the business area of town. I pull up in front of the entrance to the hotel.

“What’s going on?” Dean asks.

“I need you to contact the doctors and see if they have any more results from the tests they did on Ashley. Misty and Ashley granted permission for them to share anything that may be pertinent with the investigation team, so you shouldn’t have a problem getting the information. If you do, call me. Then I need you to start hunting down Allison’s ex-boyfriend Sean Melrose. See what he’s been up to for the last five years.”

“Where are you going?” Xavier asks.

“To the hospital where they left Ashley,” I say. “That’s the last place anyone can concretely say they saw her. That’s where the trail starts.”

They start to get out of the car and Xavier pauses. “She can’t remember.”

“I know, Xavier.”

He starts to get out of the car, then looks at me again.

“It’s your sandbox, Emma. Ava just wants to borrow a shovel.”

Forty-One

“It was five years ago?” asks the frazzled-looking woman I’m following down a hallway as she distributes manila folders to offices.

“Yes. Five years ago. August thirteenth, so almost exactly five years,” I clarify.

She nods. “I can speak with security. They have cameras that cover the entrances and the parking lots. I believe there are also some in the emergency room waiting area. I can’t be sure.”

“Virtually all hospitals have security coverage for any non-private area where there will be patients,” I say.

I resist the urge to point out to her that as a patient liaison, perhaps she wasn’t the best choice for me to deal with. But she’s who I have to work with right this second, so I’ll do what I can.

“As you said, it’s been five years. I can’t guarantee they will have any information for you.”

She finally finishes tucking the folders into the plastic holders attached to the fronts of the office doors and leads me to another part of the hospital. We go up a shadowy back staircase that doesn’t seem like a good idea for anyone, and she gestures at another office door.

“Thank you,” I say.

She stays behind me as I walk up to the door and knock on it. A tall woman with broad shoulders and an intense look in her eyes opens the door and stares out at me.

“Yes?” she asks.

“I’m Agent Emma Griffin. I’m with the FBI. This hospital might be involved in a case I’m working on and I’d like to ask you some questions,” I introduce myself.

She looks over at the woman behind me but doesn’t say anything. Apparently, she didn’t need to, because the liaison turns and walks away, leaving me there in the hallway.

“Come in,” the woman waves me in. “I’m Sandra.”

“Hello,” I say and follow her into the office.

“This is Shane,” Sandra says, gesturing at a man leaned back in one of the gray office chairs at a long table functioning as a desk.

He’s almost the antithesis of her: tall, but willowy. He’s the kind of person who’s as if he isn’t going to have full control over his arms and legs when he tries to move.

“Hi, Shane,” I call over. “Agent Griffin.”

“FBI,” Sandra says.

This instantly makes Shane sit up straighter, a nervous look crossing his face. I smile.

“Don’t worry. I’m not here for you,” I say.

“Oh,” he says, letting out a breath of relief. “Okay. Good.”

That kind of reaction is always a bit of a concern for me.

“If you’ve been watching the news the last week, you probably heard about Ashley Stevenson,” I say.

“That girl who went missing a few years back,” Sandra says. “She showed back up.”

I nod. “Yes. That’s her.”

“She’s not at this hospital,” Shane tells me.

“I know,” I