How Did It Come to This?
No New Leads
The phone rang, and a middle aged woman answered.
“Mrs. Thorpe?”
“Yes?” The woman answered.
The officer sighed. “I’m sorry to say, but we haven’t had any luck in contacting your daughter. It’s been 48 hours and, pretty much after this point, the likely hood of finding her goes down a huge percent.”
She choked up. “What does this mean?”
“It means we try harder.” He answered. “We plaster the streets with Berkley’s face. We question everyone that she knew and that she saw that day. We are now assuming this isn’t her running away, this is a kidnaping or a homicide investigation.”
“Oh, god!” she gasped, breaking down.
“Do you know who she was with or who we could start with?” The officer asked.
“Leland Parker.” She answered.
“Anything special about him?”
In between sobs she explained about the pregnancy and nasty breakup. “He wanted her to get an abortion, and she refused.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He said, hanging up.
“Mrs. Thorpe?”
“Yes?” The woman answered.
The officer sighed. “I’m sorry to say, but we haven’t had any luck in contacting your daughter. It’s been 48 hours and, pretty much after this point, the likely hood of finding her goes down a huge percent.”
She choked up. “What does this mean?”
“It means we try harder.” He answered. “We plaster the streets with Berkley’s face. We question everyone that she knew and that she saw that day. We are now assuming this isn’t her running away, this is a kidnaping or a homicide investigation.”
“Oh, god!” she gasped, breaking down.
“Do you know who she was with or who we could start with?” The officer asked.
“Leland Parker.” She answered.
“Anything special about him?”
In between sobs she explained about the pregnancy and nasty breakup. “He wanted her to get an abortion, and she refused.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He said, hanging up.