Page 67 of Missing White Woman

“The girlfriend?”

I inhaled so quickly I surprised myself. So far, I’d evaded being named. Even Billie had barely paid me any attention. It was a streak I wanted to continue.

“Again, we’re not saying. Next question.”

“Is there any truth to the rumors Franklin had narcotics in his system?”

The chief didn’t hesitate. “There were traces of alcohol.”

“And that the ME believes he was dead for days when he was found? That he probably died sometime Monday morning?”

“Yes, but it’s impossible to provide an exact time of death. Next question.”

Another cacophony. Another voice that somehow rose above it all. “Why were you able to identify Mr. Franklin’s body but have yet to make a formal ID on the initial victim?”

The chief shook his head. “There are several factors to identify a body. We’re making sure we’re thorough before we make any announcements. Dot every i. Cross every t. Next question.”

But the voice immediately spoke again. “So you’re saying Ms. Beckett’s body is currently beyond recognition?”

Chief King ignored that, motioned to someone on the other side of the room. “Next question.”

“Do you consider both cases to be closed?”

“No, though I’m very proud of the progress my team has made. From everything we’ve gathered so far, we do believe these cases are related and we’re treating them as such. Next.”

The next voice sounded older. “Do you watch A Brush With Billie?”

He did. You could tell by the way he flinched at the name. He clearly found her as annoying as I did. “We are aware of the channel,” King said. “She needs to stick to doing makeup.”

“Did you see her last video?”

“No, my makeup technique is fine,” King said.

Adore and I shared a look. As far as I knew, Billie had gone silent since this morning. Her last video had been some makeup hack I’d stopped watching as soon as I realized she’d moved on from Janelle and Ty. I’d been hoping she would be hacking away from here on out. But it sounded like I wasn’t so lucky.

“She found a witness who saw Tyler Franklin near Caven Point before 2 a.m.,” the reporter said. “From my sources, that could be as much as two hours before Janelle Beckett was killed. Do you have an exact time when the initial murder occurred?”

I leaned forward so quick you’d swear I’d been catapulted.

Chief King rolled his eyes. “We haven’t spoken to that witness. They haven’t contacted us. I can say we’re extremely confident in our investigation and believe the Little Street victim was murdered sometime between 4 and 10 a.m., when the body was found.”

Someone yelled out. “By the girlfriend?”

There it was again. Perhaps I should’ve been grateful I was still just a description and not yet a name. Instead, I was more concerned about what I’d just heard. Ty had been seen that far away hours before Janelle died? He hadn’t come back to the house after he’d left me that audio message.

“That’s all we have time for today,” King said. “I do want to close by reiterating what I said at the beginning of this briefing. If you believe you have information regarding either of these two cases, please reach out to our department. We’re happy to talk to anyone and take every call seriously. You can rest assured your tip will be looked into. Please don’t attempt to investigate yourselves. Don’t harass the residents of Little Street. And don’t trespass in Caven Point. We’ve already arrested two people and don’t want to arrest any more. Let the police do their jobs. You may think you’re helping, but you’re just hindering our investigation.”

The officers all filed out—one by one by one—accompanied by the orchestra of voices still wanting their questions answered. CNN waited until they were all gone before jumping to Anderson Cooper in studio.

I didn’t hear a single word he said. I was too busy opening TikTok on my phone. A video I didn’t want to see immediately started playing. Some skinny white chick doing a dance I’m sure had gone viral. I didn’t wait to see the moves. It wasn’t like I was going to attempt it myself.

Instead, I clicked Discover and typed in Billie’s handle. And there she was. I pressed the most recent video and started watching. Adore didn’t come closer to me, didn’t try to look too. But I knew she was paying attention by how quiet she was. Billie started by plugging some vigil she was planning for Janelle before finally getting to what I wanted. Her witnesses were teenagers—two siblings of South Asian descent. They lived in the fancy gated community I’d run by earlier. The older one had seen him, Ty. Had just walked by him, around 2 a.m. They didn’t mention anything about blood. Or say he was acting erratically. Or that he seemed upset. Just Ty was looking at his phone, like he had somewhere to go. Ty hadn’t said anything. Billie was just as confused as I was about the timing. Her face could’ve been turned into a bewildered meme. All it needed was someone to superimpose mathematical equations all over the screenshot.

Yes, I hadn’t known Ty for long, but in those few months, I’d occasionally seen him upset. And I knew his home training trumped his anger. He would’ve spoken even if he was mad. Just like he would’ve spoken if he’d been drinking—especially if he’d been drinking. He didn’t turn into Mr. Hyde. Just an amped-up Dr. Jekyll—louder, funnier, friendlier.

Not to mention the optics. A Black guy walking alone that late at night? He’d go out of his way to be friendly to strangers—hands easily visible so they wouldn’t think he was going to rob them. It was sad, but it was also true.

If he didn’t speak to them, it was because he was distracted—like they’d said. When I finally spoke, it was just two words. “Two o’clock.”

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