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“She was sent home from school at eleven thirty. She never arrived home. She was supposed to call me and say she was being dismissed early due to a bullying incident. And now, her younger sister just got home and told me all of this. Chanel is nowhere. Her phone’s turned off. And I’m convinced this killer has taken her. Please, please, help me find my daughter!”
The woman burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
“It’s okay, ma’am. You need to stay calm,” May said, escorting the woman into the police department. But she didn’t feel calm inside at all. Stress bubbled up inside her at the thought another girl was missing.
She led the woman to the tidy front desk and handed her a Kleenex.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m crying in front of you,” the woman said, dabbing at her eyes.
“It’s okay. It’s normal to feel upset,” May said. “You must be very stressed now. But I please need you to stay calm and try to recall as many facts as you can.”
“I—I will,” the woman whispered.
“I’m Deputy Moore. What’s your name?”
“Shayla South.”
“I appreciate you coming in to speak to us. Please take a seat and we’ll get someone to get you a cup of coffee,” May said. She turned to Owen, who nodded and headed for the small kitchenette at the back of the police department.
“Thank you,” the woman said gratefully, sinking down into one of the chairs.
“Mrs. South, I’m going to bring you a clipboard. You will need to make a statement giving your full name, address, and a detailed description of the circumstances behind your daughter’s disappearance. The name of the school, the route she would have taken home. All these can help us.”
“It’s Chestnut Hill High,” Mrs. South blurted out, accepting the pen and clipboard from May, and May felt another pang of panic inside her. She glanced at Owen, who was returning with the coffee, seeing her emotions reflected in his eyes.
Chestnut Hill High was the school the killer was targeting.
“How old is your daughter?” she asked.
“She’s eighteen.”
May’s lips tightened. Again, this was the age the killer was choosing. She felt anxiety flare inside her as the woman carefully completed the statement, her hand shaking.
Meanwhile, May’s mind was racing.
She was thinking about the timeline. If this daughter had left school at eleven thirty a.m. there was no way Jessop could have taken her. Because at that time, without a doubt, he had been inside those expensive offices and nowhere else.
She’d felt there were some inconsistencies that made it unlikely he was the killer, and now this incident was proving it.
That made May feel a heightened sense of panic, because where else was there to look? They’d been through this case in so much detail. Jessop was a strong suspect, linked to both the girls with compelling evidence. The video, the payment.
If they had to start again, she felt sick with fear that they might just come up blank.
On the positive side, Chanel had disappeared recently. She’d been gone only a few hours. Surely that meant they had time? Although what use was time, when they had no idea where to look?
“Can you please give me the names of all your daughter’s friends that you know of?” May said, glad her voice sounded relatively calm. She wasn’t sure what to do. This was another lead, another girl who could be in danger. And she had no idea where to start looking.
“You think she might have gone to one of them?” Mrs. South said, looking up at her with what May now saw was forlorn hope.
She didn’t want to give her unfounded hope.
“We need to rule out every possibility. We must explore every avenue that she could have taken,” she said.
“Oh, okay. I don’t think she would have done so because all her friends were at school. But I’ll give you the numbers.”
She wrote frantically on the page.
