First Girl Gone(69)

“Livingston County, he said, but I don’t know if it was sheriff, local, or state police.”

“Let’s go do some digging, then,” Zoe said, leading Charlie down the hall to her office.

Zoe slid into her chair and brought up a database for the Livingston County Sheriff’s Department on her computer. She typed in Robbie’s name and birthdate.

“Nothing for the sheriff’s department,” she said. “Let’s try the state boys.”

The keyboard clattered as her fingers struck the keys.

“There it is. December twelfth. Citation for public intoxication and assault.” Zoe stared at the screen for a moment. “Can’t believe he was telling the truth.”

“We can’t rule out his involvement in Kara’s disappearance,” Charlie said. “But it doesn’t feel right to me.”

“If I’m being totally honest, I have to agree with you.” Zoe swiveled from side to side in her chair, lips pursed. “Robbie doesn’t seem like our guy.”

“And unfortunately, that means we’re back at square one.”

“Yeah,” Zoe said. “It also means someone has to tell the families that we found our so-called prime suspect and then cleared him.”

Charlie straightened in her chair.

“You told the families?”

“It was the sheriff’s call. He wanted them to know we were making progress.”

“Well, don’t look at me,” Charlie said, scoffing. “I’m the one who brought Robbie in. I’m not delivering the bad news for you, too.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Sighing, Zoe pushed herself to her feet. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some very awkward calls to make.”



When Charlie got back to the office, she went straight to her laptop to update her master file with what she’d learned. She’d now confirmed that Kara had indeed been sneaking out those nights to go to the Red Velvet Lounge. She’d also learned that both Kara and Sharon Ritter were in some kind of relationship with Robbie Turner. Those facts alone made Robbie the ideal suspect. He was a criminal connected to both victims. And yet he had a rock-solid alibi for the night of Amber Spadafore’s disappearance.

Charlie had pasted photos of both Kara and Amber into the file, and she stared at the faces of the two missing girls now. How long did they have left? Charlie felt the pressure rising, a tightness in her gut as the clock ticked down.

She turned away from the screen, closing her eyes. Ruling Robbie out as a suspect felt like starting over, but it wasn’t. Not really. She just needed to incorporate the new information with what she already had and go over everything with fresh eyes.

Taking a deep breath, she swiveled back to the computer and started at the beginning.

She pored over the notes for hours, trying to find something she might have missed. A pattern. A dangling thread. Anything. At one point, she was startled to glance up from her computer and find herself sitting in the dark. Night had fallen without her even noticing. She reached for the switch on the desk lamp and turned it on, illuminating the desk but not much else. A small island of light in the pitch-black around her.

She got back to work on her current task—she’d started sifting back through all of Kara’s and Amber’s social media posts, trying to find some connection there. A shared friend. A day they might have crossed paths somehow. So far, she’d found nothing.

Charlie kept scrolling, certain there was a connection between the girls somewhere, if she could only find it. She came across a photo from Halloween on Amber’s Instagram feed: Amber wearing a long red wig, purple seashell bra, and a green sequin skirt. Beside her, there was a girl dressed as a Playboy Bunny—black satin bodysuit and matching rabbit ears. And that was when she remembered the White Rabbit email.

She knew what it meant now that Robbie had told her White Rabbit was a nickname for the ecstasy he’d been peddling. The problem was, following the White Rabbit had led to Robbie, and Robbie had an alibi.

Charlie frowned. And then it hit her: when she’d asked how Robbie met Sharon Ritter, he said she’d bought ecstasy from him.

White Rabbit.

Her connection to Amber was obvious. But she could also be tied to Kara. They were both seeing Robbie Turner. Could Sharon have found out about Kara and Robbie and wanted to rid herself of the competition?

Charlie’s heart began to race. She fumbled back through her notes, trying to find Sharon’s alibi for the days the girls went missing. She said she’d been at a conference somewhere, but what was it called? There. Charlie’s finger landed on the letters scrawled in her own handwriting: the Southeast Michigan Real Estate Conference and Expo.

Had Sharon lied about going to the conference?

Charlie searched the conference name plus Sharon’s name. The Facebook page for Sharon’s real estate business came up. Charlie clicked on it, her eyes flicking rapidly across the screen. Her gaze froze on the top post. There was Sharon Ritter in front of a podium, leading a session about online marketing techniques. Further down the page she found photo after photo of Sharon at the conference—handing out promotional tote bags from her booth, seated onstage for a panel, clinking champagne glasses with another woman at the closing night party.

Shoulders slumped, Charlie flipped the laptop shut. The defeat she’d felt earlier in the day rushed back at her tenfold. She didn’t know why she’d even considered Sharon Ritter as a suspect, now that she thought about it. There may have been a motive for abducting Kara, but why kidnap her own daughter?