"What? Wait, what are you talking about?" Detective Phoebe's voice was sharp with confusion. "The kidnapper! It's Layla!" Paul insisted, his eyes wild with urgency. "What do you mean? Layla is missing!" Thomas answered. A sudden, heavy silence filled the room.
“...Layla is missing?” Paul asked, his voice barely a whisper. Detective Phoebe agreed gravely. “Since when?” Paul's shock was palpable. "Last night. Your classmate, Kelly, told me that she went missing on the same day we caught you in Obsidian Park." Paul was left speechless, his mind reeling. “How can we trust you in this?” Officer Chris interjected, his skepticism cutting through the tension. “I can explain,” Paul said, taking a deep breath. “I'll admit—I was the person who made the call the other day, the one trying to make a deal.” “—and why would you do that?!” Thomas was trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. "Please tell us the entire story, Paul. We're all open ears."
Paul took a deep sigh—hoping that he wouldn't be in trouble. "It all started when Layla reached out to me. It was the 17th of September, a Friday afternoon. She mentioned that her mother was sick, and they couldn't afford the money for the treatment. Layla is the only person left in her family; her father left when she was very young—she has no siblings or relatives to help. Even though she had a difficult past, she was smart and fighting for her grades, yet always came second to Beatrice, who was always first. Now that her mother's condition It was worsening, she had to rush her to the hospital. The cost of the treatment was overwhelming. She stopped eating, avoiding buying anything she liked... and crying a lot.
“What's that?” Thomas asked, his voice hushed.
"Beatrice is talented, admired, and comes from a wealthy family. Layla saw Beatrice as having everything she ever wanted. She felt jealous... and angry. She decided to do something drastic. The next day, she reached out to me. Her plan was simple: kidnap Beatrice and demand ransom money to pay for her mother's treatment." “How did you get involved in this?” Detective Phoebe's voice was steady, but there was an edge to it. "One afternoon after school, Layla asked me to join her plan. She said we could get two hundred thousand dollars from Beatrice's family. One hundred thousand for each of us. It seemed like easy money. Why not join? Beatrice's family is wealthy; they wouldn't miss it." "How did it go? Were you there the day she was kidnapped?" Detective Phoebe asked, leaning in closer.
“Yes, I was there. I saw Beatrice leaving L’s Store alone. I whispered her name. She turned, looking for the source of the sound. ‘Hello?’ she asked. She leaned in, trying to see in the dark alley. My heart was pounding. When she got close enough, I grabbed her, covering her mouth. She struggled, but I held on until she passed out. I was scared. She was my classmate. I kept thinking, ‘This is for the money.’ Layla and I had agreed not to tell anyone if we got caught... yet here I am.” “You...” Thomas pointed, his breath heavy with emotion.
“Where would you use the money for?” The officer asked. “I wanted to live in another country with my family, maybe Italy or France. Buy a new car, host parties, attend concerts... live a good life with that money.” “Great. Well, as of now, Layla is missing, according to Kelly. Do you think she is still alive?” Detective Phoebe asked. “Yes, I’m sure,” Paul replied. “Where is Beatrice being held?” “The last time I saw her, she was at Layla’s house. Quartz Lane, beside the Golden Hotel and Kelly’s house. You can’t miss it. You’ll find more answers there.”
“How do we get inside?” Thomas asked. “That depends on you now,” Paul replied. “Now that I’ve told you what happened, will you set me free?” Detective Phoebe and Officer Chris exchanged a look. “I wish I could still put you in jail.” “Oh, come on! Please, the food here stinks!” Paul expressed disgust. “You attempted first-degree murder, tried to shoot Thomas, resisted arrest, took part in a hostage situation, and caused public panic. You deserve fifteen years behind bars. Do you understand that?” Officer Chris threatened, making Paul shut his mouth. There was a moment of silence, with realization and guilt washing over him. “I’m sorry, Detective, for everything.” “It’s good you feel responsible, but just saying sorry isn’t enough. Since you were honest, I’ll give you a pardon—but only if you learn from this. You’re still young. Don’t make fun of others or get involved in crimes again. Do you understand?”
“I will, Detective.” “Will you promise me that?” Paul nodded. Detective Phoebe looked at Officer Chris. “Call Mr. and Mrs. Steele. Paul is getting out of jail today.” Paul smiled, relief flooding his face. “Do we really have to trust him, Detective?” Officer Chris whispered. “I trust him. Besides, if he causes trouble again, we know where to find him,” Detective Phoebe said. “For now, we wait for the Steeles to take him home.”
After about half an hour, two people emerged from the distance of the hallway. “Detective!” “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Steele.” Mrs. Steele immediately wrapped her arms around Detective Phoebe, her relief evident in her embrace. “Thank you, thank you so, so much. It makes me happy to give our son a pardon from you. I couldn’t express my gratitude—” “It’s okay, Mrs. Steele. What’s most important is that your son Paul has learned from his mistakes and ensures that it will never happen again. Otherwise, he will end up behind bars, for real this time,” said the detective with a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, we’ll ground him by letting him attend community services,” Mr. Steele added, his voice firm. “Oh, come on, Dad!” Paul whined, though there was a hint of understanding in his tone. “We will take a closer look at him nowadays. I don’t want Paul to commit bad things like these again, or he will be banned from my doorstep,” Mrs. Steele said, her voice tinged with both concern and determination.
The jail cell doors were opened by Officer Chris, who made eye contact with Paul. “I’m keeping an eye on you.” Paul looked back at Officer Chris with reassurance and trust. Once he stepped out of his cell, both his mother and father dashed towards him, wrapping their arms around him. Paul hugged them back tightly, then looked at Thomas. “I’m sorry for bullying you, Thomas.” “It’s fine as long as you don’t do it again, Paul. Don’t worry about me,” Thomas replied, his voice steady and sincere.
“Thank you once again, Detective Phoebe. The whole time I was inside that cell, it made me rethink a lot of the choices I made in the past, and I feel dumb and ashamed for doing all those kinds of things. I realized, I don’t want to live the next fifteen years of my life behind bars, eating stinky food, staring at the ceiling, and missing out on my teenage life—that’s just truly awful.”
“I’m glad you reflected on your mistakes,” Detective Phoebe said with a warm smile. “What’s the next thing that we have to do after this, Detective?” asked Thomas, eager to continue their mission. “Layla’s home,” Detective Phoebe replied, her voice resolute. She turned to the Steeles. “Please, make sure Paul stays out of trouble. We have a lot more work to do.” “We will,” Mr. Steele assured her. “Thank you again, Detective.”
As Detective Phoebe and Thomas made their way to the car, the weight of their Thomas glanced at Detective Phoebe, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. “Detective, what if Layla’s still with Beatrice? We need to get to Quartz Lane as soon as possible.” Detective Phoebe nodded, her expression resolute. “We will, Thomas. But we need to handle this carefully. We can’t risk losing any leads or making a wrong move.” They emerged into the lobby, where Officer Chris was already making arrangements for additional backup. “I’ve called for more units to meet us at Quartz Lane,” he informed them. “We can’t afford to take any chances.”
Thomas’s heart pounded as they stepped out into the dawn light. The world outside felt surreal, a stark contrast to the tension-filled police precinct. The early morning air was crisp, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves on the trees lining the street. He glanced at the rising sun, its golden rays cutting through the cool blue of the early morning sky. There was a strange calmness, a fleeting moment of serenity before they plunged back into the chaos. Detective Phoebe led the way to the police car, her steps brisk and purposeful. Thomas followed, his mind racing with the possibilities of what they might find at Layla’s house. As they climbed into the car, he couldn’t shake the image of Beatrice, scared and alone, somewhere out there. The urgency of their mission weighed heavily on him.
The drive to Quartz Lane was tense. Detective Phoebe’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, her eyes focused on the road ahead. Thomas sat in the back, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. Each house they passed felt like a missed opportunity, each moment a precious second ticking away. “Detective,” Thomas began, his voice breaking the silence. “What if Layla’s house is empty? What if they’ve already moved her?” Detective Phoebe glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “We have to take that risk, Thomas. If Paul’s telling the truth, Layla’s house is our best lead. We’ll find them.”
The car sped through the quiet streets, the urgency of their mission palpable. As they approached Quartz Lane, the familiar landmarks came into view: the Golden Hotel, Kelly’s house, and finally, Layla’s home. It was an unassuming house, modest and slightly worn, standing in stark contrast to the upscale residences nearby. Detective Phoebe parked the car a few houses down, not wanting to draw attention. She turned to Thomas. “Stay close to me. We don’t know what we might encounter.”
They exited the car, the morning light casting long shadows on the pavement. The neighborhood was still and quiet, the early hour lending an eerie calm. Thomas’s heart pounded as they approached Layla’s house, every step feeling heavier than the last. Detective Phoebe signaled for Thomas to stay back as she approached the front door, her hand resting on the hilt of her gun. She knocked, the sound echoing in the stillness. There was no response. She knocked again, more forcefully this time.
Still nothing.
“Let’s check the windows,” she whispered, motioning for Thomas to follow. They circled the house, peering into the darkened windows. The curtains were drawn, and it was difficult to see inside. Detective Phoebe tried the back door, but it was locked tight. Frustration etched on her face, she motioned for Thomas to follow her back to the front. “We’ll have to force our way in,” she said, her voice low. “Stay behind me. “With a swift, practiced motion, she kicked the door near the lock, the wood splintering under the force. The door swung open, revealing the dim interior of the house. They stepped inside, the air thick with tension.
“Beatrice? Layla?” Detective Phoebe called out, the sound echoing through the quiet neighborhood. She stepped inside Layla’s house, followed closely by Thomas and Officer Chris. The air was thick with the musty smell of abandonment as they entered the dimly lit living room. The sunlight from the windows struggled to penetrate the gloom, casting elongated shadows across the floor. Detective Phoebe flicked the light switch, but nothing happened—the house seemed to be devoid of electricity.
The room felt eerily empty. The corner where a television had once stood was now barren, and fabric trails on the floor hinted that a carpet might have been there before. The space, stripped of furniture, felt hollow and unsettling. Thomas glanced at Officer Chris, who was already moving toward a door on the right side of the living room. This door led to a hallway that seemed to extend toward the dining room. As they walked into the dining area, a table stood alone in the center, flanked by two chairs. There were no plates or signs of recent meals, only a scattering of food particles on the surface, suggesting neglect. The kitchen, adjacent to the dining room, beckoned them with an unpleasant odor. Detective Phoebe and Thomas entered, and the stench grew stronger, emanating from the dirty dishes piled in the sink.
Detective Phoebe opened the kitchen cabinets, revealing bare shelves with only a can of beans and a bottle of ketchup. She then opened the refrigerator, but it was dark inside—the power had clearly been off for some time. “There you are!” Officer Chris called from the hallway. He had found something of interest. “Have you found anything, Officer?” Detective Phoebe asked, turning her attention to him. “When I went through the door on the right, it led to the garage,” Officer Chris reported.
With a nod, Detective Phoebe, Thomas, and Officer Chris retraced their steps back to the hallway. At the end of the hall, there was a cabinet in front of them, another cabinet to the left, and a staircase leading up to the second floor on the right. “Detective, if you and Thomas are going up there, I’ll stay here and see if I can find any more clues,” Officer Chris said. “Alright. Call us if you find anything,” Detective Phoebe instructed. Officer Chris nodded and turned to continue his search. Detective Phoebe and Thomas climbed the stairs, the creaking steps echoing in the quiet house. The second floor was as dreary as the first, with a layer of dust on the corners of the floor and the walls appearing dull and neglected. They were greeted by a hallway with three closed doors.
Thomas approached the first door and opened it to reveal a bathroom. A toilet sat on the right, a sink on the left, and a bathtub in front of him. Thomas moved closer to the sink and noticed a small bottle of medicine pills. “These must be from Layla’s mom,” he whispered, examining the label briefly before moving on. Detective Phoebe opened the second door, revealing a bedroom. The room was pristine; the queen-sized bed was impeccably made, with no wrinkles on the sheets and the pillows perfectly aligned against the headboard. Thomas approached the wardrobe in the corner. The hangers inside held neatly arranged clothes, likely belonging to Layla’s mother.
“It’s either someone cleaned this room recently, or it hasn’t been touched,” Detective Phoebe remarked as she left the room. The third door, the farthest from the hallway, was next. Detective Phoebe gestured for Thomas to open it. He took a deep breath and turned the handle. The room inside was the complete opposite of the previous one. The single bed was unkempt, the blankets were tangled, and the pillows were strewn across the floor. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and a trash can lay overturned, its contents spilling out. “This room is a mess,” Detective Phoebe observed. They both stepped into the disarray when a voice from below interrupted their inspection.
“Uh—come here! I think I found something!” called Officer Chris. Detective Phoebe and Thomas exchanged concerned glances before heading back downstairs. They found Officer Chris standing beside the left-side cabinet in the hallway. He had moved it slightly to reveal a hidden door behind it. Detective Phoebe and Thomas were visibly shocked and intrigued. Detective Phoebe approached the door and grasped the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. She inspected it more closely and noticed a keyhole. “It’s locked. We need a key,” she said, stepping back. “Well, I hope it’s somewhere in this house,” Thomas said, scanning the surroundings. “Let’s look for it. Who knows what other secrets this house might be hiding?” Officer Chris added.
Thomas quickly went back upstairs, while Detective Phoebe and Officer Chris continued their search for the key. Thomas re-entered the first bathroom but found nothing beyond the medicine pills. He moved to the second room and searched the nightstand, but the drawers were empty. The wardrobe yielded no new clues either, and a quick inspection beneath the bed revealed only dust and cobwebs. Desperate, Thomas moved to the third room. He navigated through the clutter of clothes and approached the wardrobe. As he rifled through the disorganized garments, he found nothing of interest. The bedside table’s trash can, filled with crumpled papers and food wrappers, was his last hope. Thomas dug through the refuse, sifting through the junk with growing frustration.
Time seemed to stretch as he searched, each minute adding to the tension of the situation. The key, and possibly more clues, remained elusive. Thomas picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the trash can. As he unfurled it, he realized it was an examination paper—Layla Carter’s. The paper bore a conspicuous “F” at the top in red ink. Thomas’s brow furrowed; it seemed like a minor detail, but it added another layer to the growing complexity of the case.
He set the examination paper aside and picked up another crumpled sheet. This one contained receipts from L’s Store—eggs, milk, a can of beans—items that suggested routine purchases. But among the receipts were also sales of household items: carpets, a couch, and a television. “That’s why the living room is so empty,” Thomas muttered to himself. “She sold off the furniture to get some cash.”
Thomas rummaged through the trash can but found no other significant clues. He turned his attention to the table next to the messy bed. The table was cluttered with books, mostly on calculus. Thomas raised an eyebrow—Layla had been diligent about checking her calculus homework with Kelly at the library. He began to sift through the books, hoping one might hide the key. After inspecting several volumes with no success, he came across a book that stood out. It wasn’t a calculus textbook but rather a title that sent a shiver down his spine:KIDNAPPING: HOW IT WORKS.
Thomas’s mind raced. “Why would she have this book?” He wondered aloud. “Maybe she was trying to understand how the kidnapper executed Beatrice’s disappearance? Or maybe she was learning how to kidnap someone herself?” The thought was unsettling, but the idea seemed to fit with the pattern of the evidence. He glanced at the notes beside the books, which listed dates and times for when Layla had borrowed them from the library. The pattern was telling: Most books were borrowed on September 24th, the day of Paul’s capture at Obsidian Park. Layla had borrowed the kidnapping book on September 16th, well before Beatrice disappeared, and it was due back on October 7th.
Thomas’s mind clicked into place. “If Layla was reading about kidnapping before Beatrice disappeared, she might have been planning it. But what’s her motive?” Desperation crept into his thoughts as he lay his head down on the pile of clothes, feeling the weight of the mystery closing in. A glint of light caught his eye from underneath the bed. He squinted and saw a shiny object reflecting the sunlight. Thomas crawled under the bed, brushing aside dust and cobwebs. His heart raced as he reached out and pulled out a small, shiny key. Relief washed over him as he held it up.
“I found a key!” Thomas shouted, scrambling out from under the bed and racing down the hallway. His footsteps echoed through the empty house as he hurried down the stairs. When he reached the first floor, he noticed something odd. The cabinet that had previously been against the wall was now pushed aside, revealing a window. The glass was shattered, leaving a jagged hole. Thomas examined the ground beneath the window and found eight footprints—four leading into the house and four leading out. “No way...” Thomas muttered, realizing the implications. The window was large enough for someone to have slipped through. He took a deep breath and carefully climbed through the broken window, wincing at the shards of glass that remained.
Outside, he saw a dense forest path stretching out before him. The footprints continued into the woods. Thomas followed the trail, pushing through the underbrush until he saw two figures in the distance. As he got closer, the figures resolved into Detective Phoebe and Officer Chris. “Detective! Officer!” Thomas called out, waving the key in the air. “That’s great!” Detective Phoebe replied. “We’re investigating something here.”
Thomas arrived at the scene, panting. Detective Phoebe pointed at a distance. He squinted, “Wait, isn’t that...” In front of him was the building of L’s Store in the distance, hiding within a wave of trees. Thomas looked on the ground, the footsteps were still there; walking away from the store and back towards the Carters’ household—it was L’s Store. Thomas examined the footprints on the ground—they led away from the store and back toward the Carter house. “Yes, Thomas. I’ve got a theory,” Detective Phoebe said. “Let’s head back to the house.”
“Have you already tested the key to see if it unlocks the door?” asked Officer Chris. “I haven’t yet,” Thomas answered. “Well, we should go back there and see if it works, then,” said Detective Phoebe, turning away from the forest path. Thomas and Officer Chris fell in step behind her as they headed back to the house. “I’m thinking that Layla sold items around the house,” Detective Phoebe mused aloud. “That’s what I’m also thinking!” replied Thomas, quickening his pace to walk beside her.
“Emily works as a supermarket cashier at the mall. They are running out of money; they’ve been paying for Layla’s education, their taxes, and groceries. Now that Emily is sick, suffering from a stroke, she can’t work anymore. Layla is still a student, but she could be working part-time.” “That’s why there was so little furniture and so few items inside the house,” Thomas added. “Layla sold them in exchange for money.”
“There’s one thing in the house I find particularly interesting,” Detective Phoebe continued. “What is it, detective?” asked Officer Chris. “The master bedroom looks untouched. The bed is tidy, the tables are clean—compared to Layla’s room. I’m guessing Emily owns that room.” “Layla’s room is messy, the total opposite of Emily’s. Maybe Layla was hurt to even open the door, not seeing her mother around the house anymore—the house she lives in isn’t the house she recognizes anymore,” Thomas commented.
Detective Phoebe nodded, her gaze fixed ahead. “Here we are.” Thomas gazed at the Carter house from the back; cracks and vines marred the white walls, giving the house an eerie, abandoned feel. Detective Phoebe reached for the broken window and carefully climbed inside. Thomas followed, then Officer Chris. Once inside, Thomas made his way to the secret door in the hallway. He held the key, his hands trembling slightly. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the lock.
Click!
His eyes grew wide open. “It worked!” Thomas cried. He grabbed the doorknob and swung the door open, revealing a pitch-black room. The darkness was dense and cold. Detective Phoebe pulled a flashlight from her pocket and turned it on. Officer Chris did the same. “I don’t have a flashlight,” Thomas said, his voice tinged with anxiety. “Just stick close to us and you’ll be fine,” replied Detective Phoebe, her voice steady and reassuring.
She stepped inside, her flashlight beam cutting through the darkness to reveal a staircase descending into the basement. With her gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other, she led the way. Officer Chris followed closely, his flashlight casting eerie shadows on the walls. Thomas trailed behind them, his hands empty but his senses on high alert. As they descended, the smell of mildew and damp earth grew stronger. Officer Chris’s flashlight caught the outline of a tall, empty shelf covered in cobwebs. Detective Phoebe’s light illuminated a wooden stick lying on the ground. They pressed on, their footfalls echoing softly.
Officer Chris swung his flashlight to the right, revealing a table against the basement wall. Something on the table caught Thomas’s eye. “Wait a minute!” Thomas rushed forward and grabbed a purple-colored backpack. “This belongs to Beatrice!” he cried, his voice breaking. He unzipped the bag and rifled through it. Beatrice’s books were still inside, along with pens and a bag of potato chips. He held up the chips, unopened, his eyes brimming with tears. “She still has the chips she bought from L’s Store. It still hasn’t been opened yet,” he said, grief choking his words.
Detective Phoebe’s flashlight moved across the floor, illuminating a jean jacket. “This is also Beatrice’s, right?” she asked, pointing at the jacket. Thomas recognized it instantly. It was the same jacket Beatrice had worn before she disappeared. He nodded, too choked up to speak. Detective Phoebe continued to examine the floor. Blood stains, almost a few days old, were splattered all over. A dining plate lay on the ground, bits of food scattered around it. Officer Chris directed his flashlight to a large, dirty cloth nearby.
In the middle of the room stood a wooden chair. In front of it, handcuffs were chained to a thick, heavy pole. Blood stains marred the chains, and the handcuffs were unlocked, the key still in the keyhole. “This is all strange,” said Detective Phoebe, her voice echoing in the stillness. Thomas fell to his knees. “Why would Layla do this...?!” he cried, his hands clutching his head. His heart felt shattered, the weight of betrayal crushing him. He closed his eyes, memories of Layla flashing through his mind, trying desperately to piece the clues together.
Detective Phoebe knelt beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s all think of it carefully,” she said softly. Thomas took a deep breath, trying to steady his thoughts. “Layla was desperate. Her mother’s illness, the lack of money... she felt trapped.” Detective Phoebe nodded. “But why kidnap Beatrice? What’s the connection?” Officer Chris spoke up. “Maybe Layla thought she could get ransom money or leverage somehow. Or perhaps Beatrice knew something Layla didn’t want getting out.” Thomas shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. Layla was my friend. She wouldn’t do something like this... unless she felt she had no other choice.”
Detective Phoebe stood up, her flashlight scanning the room. “We need to find Layla and get to the bottom of this. There’s more to this story than we’re seeing.” Thomas took a deep breath, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his chest. “So, in my understanding, Layla and Emily Carter are financially unstable because of their rent, medical bills, groceries, and other expenses to survive. They badly need some money, especially since Emily is the only member in the family who has income, but is currently suffering from an ischemic stroke. Since Beatrice is a top genius in her class, has talented skills, and comes from a wealthy family, Layla must’ve been very jealous. Another motive for this could be revenge on Beatrice, since her life seems so perfect in Layla’s eyes.”
Detective Phoebe nodded thoughtfully, then added, “Layla is in desperate need of money to the point that she might do anything to get it—even if it’s something bad. I might be wrong, but here is my theory: It was September 20th when Paul and Layla somehow lured Beatrice to the back of L’s Store. I’m guessing that Beatrice either heard something or saw something suspicious. She went there, only for Paul to make her unconscious. Now, since there were two sets of footprints we found on the path behind Layla’s house, Layla and Paul must’ve been going there, since L’s Store and her house are almost near each other—they just needed to pass through a forest.”
Detective Phoebe continued, “Layla somehow grabbed Mr. Payne’s calculus book days before the crime happened—using it as an opportunity to frame him for the crime scene. But why Mr. Payne out of all people? And why didn’t she notice Beatrice’s pen falling to the ground?” Officer Chris chimed in, “For the pen, I think it was because they were running out of time and someone might have seen them, so they had to act fast. As for Mr. Payne, I don’t know. Since Beatrice is rich, money is a strong motive for anyone to commit the crime, and this all happened in a small town, far from the city.”
“Layla was with us when we were making our calculus group project that day, but she left immediately, saying she was going to buy us some food to eat while we worked,” Thomas commented. “She never came back, so I guess she made an excuse to get back to L’s Store and help Paul with the kidnapping while she was gone.” Detective Phoebe nodded, then said, “When Officer Chris and I got down behind the Carters’ household through the broken window, we noticed that there were four footprints on the ground coming from the forest. We followed the footprints until they led us to the back of L’s Store. The footprints led us there, but others seemed to be covered or removed from the ground towards the store itself. If Beatrice got kidnapped at the back of L’s Store, Paul and Layla would have covered their tracks. But how did they do it? If I were them, covering those footprints would have to be fast so that no one saw them, right?”
Thomas nodded. “When I searched around the house earlier, I didn’t find any shovels or gardening materials in the garage—just car equipment.” “There is no way they did it by their bare hands...” Detective Phoebe trailed off. Thomas stopped and paused for a second, the realization dawning on him. “Oh God.” Detective Phoebe turned to him, her eyes widening with concern. “What is it, Thomas?”
“Back on Tuesday, the first day Beatrice went missing, I noticed that the weather was sunny, and I saw Layla wearing princess gloves. She doesn’t usually wear princess gloves to class. It seemed strange and suspicious, don’t you think? Especially since it happened the day after Beatrice got kidnapped. Wearing gloves seemed like a way to hide something.” Detective Phoebe nodded, her brow furrowing in concentration. “It does seem odd. Given the absence of shovels and gardening equipment in their house, Layla must have covered their tracks using her bare fingers, while Paul carried and lifted Beatrice. To avoid anyone asking why there was dirt under her fingernails, she wore the princess gloves.”
“That makes sense...” Detective Phoebe agreed. She continued, “With the footprint tracks already covered, both Layla and Paul walked through the forest and towards the window at the back of the house. Layla must’ve thrown a rock to shatter the window, allowing them to get inside. They covered the window with a cabinet to hide it. Layla then swept the floor clean, while Paul tied Beatrice up in the basement. “Then, sometime after that, Paul called us, pretending to have a deep voice, claiming he had Beatrice and demanded two hundred thousand dollars for her return. Now that their plan didn’t work and we have Paul, Layla must’ve feared he would tell us everything, which he did. This case wouldn’t have progressed without Paul’s confession. With their location known, Layla evacuated with Beatrice, hiding the basement door with a large cabinet. She left the house with Beatrice—goodness knows where they are now.”
“The pieces were there all along...” Thomas touched his forehead, frustration evident in his voice. “There were so many signs...” He continued, his voice filled with regret, “Her refusing to use her house for our calculus group project because she planned to keep Beatrice there; her mentioning her mom’s illness, hinting at her desperate need for money; her wearing the princess gloves to hide the dirt from her nails; her sudden disappearance after Paul got caught so she could escape with Beatrice after he spoke the truth...” Thomas’s voice trembled. “It was her all along.”
Detective Phoebe pointed at the blood stains on the ground. “Beatrice must have been tortured here. The blood stains, the small food tray on the ground—it’s clear they fed her here. I feel pity for her...” whispered Officer Chris. The three of them observed the crime scene once more. “Well, Officer, here’s what we need to do now,” Detective Phoebe instructed. “I’m all ears,” replied Officer Chris. “You need to go back to the search parties and continue searching for Layla and Beatrice, while Thomas and I inform the police and the forensics to investigate this house for more clues.” “Noted, detective.” Officer Chris began ascending the stairs, with Detective Phoebe and Thomas following.
As they reached the main floor, a faint knock came from the front door. The three of them exchanged looks, then approached the door together. Detective Phoebe stepped forward and slowly opened it. “Officer Walter! What are you doing here?” “I’m here for backup, but there is something that you need to know, detective.” Reported Officer Walter. Detective Phoebe nodded her head, suggesting the officer continue what he was saying.
“You need to go to the hospital now. Doctor Oliver told me that Emily Carter wants to tell you something important.” “Did he tell you what it is?” the detective asked. “No, she wanted only you to know about it.” “What about the state of her health? Is she feeling good?” “No, she has been worried sick.” Detective Phoebe sighed. “Okay, we’ll go there shortly. Are you doing anything else at the moment?”
“No, just helping for backup here.” Officer Walter answered. “Can you help with the search party?” Detective Phoebe asked. “It’s for Layla—based on what we found on this house, she has been Beatrice’s kidnapper all along.” She continued. Oh, I thought that she was missing—but sure, I will help out with the search party.” “Great, I will go there now,” commented Officer Chris. “Officer Walter, you supervise Layla’s search Party, while Officer Chris will be in touch with Beatrice’s, alright?” “Sounds good, detective.”
The detective, Thomas, and the two officers stepped out of the Carters’ household before closing the door.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
“Good afternoon, how may I help you?” The hospital receptionist asked. “Good afternoon. I am a detective investigating the sudden disappearance of Layla Carter. Officer Walter, who was here earlier, mentioned that Emily Carter wants to tell me something in private. May I ask where Emily Carter’s room is?” “Oh, alright—nurse!” The woman called from the reception. “Please take them to Mrs. Carter’s room on the third floor.” “Sure, this way, please,” the nurse said, approaching the three of them.
The nurse began to walk, with Detective Phoebe, Thomas, and Officer Chris following behind. They entered a staircase, and as they were ascending, Officer Chris opened his mouth. “May I ask something?” I have asked. “Yes, officer?” the nurse replied. “Are you one of the people taking care of Mrs. Emily Carter?” “Yes, why?” “I just want to know, does her daughter visit her often these past few days?” “Oh, Layla—She does visit daily... except yesterday and today. Why?” “It's because—” Officer Chris was interrupted by a loud siren echoing through the building. The nurse suddenly ran, leaving the three of them behind. “Wait, what's going on?!” asked Thomas.
“Code blue! Code blue!”
A team of nurses, anesthesiologists, doctors, and respiratory therapists was seen running down the hallway as Thomas, Detective Phoebe, and Officer Chris reached the third floor. “Someone in the hospital has stopped breathing or their heart has stopped working!” answered Detective Phoebe, her pace quickening. “Which room is Mrs. Carter's?!” wondered Officer Chris, glancing at the long hallway. A doctor was seen leaving one of the rooms, and a nurse appeared behind the officer. “Coming through!” the nurse said, bumping into Officer Chris as she passed by.
“Who is on code blue?!” the doctor asked, looking at the passing nurse.
“Mrs. Carter—the lady at the end of the hallway!” she replied tensely. Detective Phoebe's eyes widened. “Oh no.” She dashed alongside the nurses and patients, with Thomas and Officer Chris following closely. They reached the very corner of the hallway, where a flurry of medical personnel entered a room. Outside the room, lying on the floor, a nurse was holding a girl who looked unrested and in utter panic. She looked familiar, and as the three of them dashed closer, they were left in shock.
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