Phoebe dried her eyes as Agent Brady handed her another tissue. She touched the corners of her eyes, more tears continuing to roll down her cheeks. The 36 year old woman couldn’t help but sob. She didn’t know any better. The only child she had- the one she had as a teen pregnancy- couldn’t be found.

“I know dealing with the disappearance of your daughter must be difficult.” Agent Ortiz helped sit down Phoebe. “You said Ava-Rose was a prostituite? I know the police don’t handle cases similar to this because of that reason.” Phoebe tried to subside her tears.

“Yes, my daughter was a sex worker. But, it was only because we needed the money. I.. Gave her the influence. I only had her when I was seventeen..” She continued to cry as Agent Brady handed her yet again another tissue.

Agent Ortiz nodded, handing her a paper. “What is this?..” Phoebe attempted to have a solid voice, yet it quivered as she spoke. Agent Ortiz looked at Agent Brady. He brought a finger up to his lips, picking at the corner of his mouth.

“If you flip that paper over- you can see another prostitute had gone missing from the same group as Ava-Rose. We’re believing that there could be possibilities of a serial killer- perhaps killing prostitutes.” Agent Brady kept his voice content, but the case had felt all too cliche.

“And while your daughter has not been found, this girl had been found deceased under a bridge in eastern Port Allen. The Yukahon bridge, to be exact.” Agent Ortiz mentioned, resting a hand on top of Phoebes.

All she could do was cry. She held a hand against her temple. “That was her favorite bridge.. We always went their when she was a child.” Her face had gone red, mascara smudging as she went to wipe her eyes.

Agent Ortiz looked back at Brady, which he nodded. “We just wanted to tell you that because of this, it could be possible that we have a lead to your daughters disappearance. Don’t lose hope, because theres no sign she’s deceased like the other girl.”

“Okay..” Phoebe stood up. “Thank you.” She walked out of the office, leaving Brady and Ortiz standing together.

Brady sighed, ruffling his hair. “I have a feeling. But I won’t say anything. It’s merely an accusation.” He seemed stressed, to which Ortiz put a hand on his shoulder. “You can always talk to me. I’m open ears.”

“Something tells me this won’t be the last disappearance in the area, or even under that bridge.” Brady whispered solemnly.

***

Agent Davila looked at the board. Since Brady and Ortiz’ discussion with Phoebe Strickland, they had found a total of six bodies- none of them being Ava-Rose. All underneath the Yukahon bridge.

She stood their silently. The victims- all prostitutes, had been killed in different ways. The M.O was unclear, and the bodies had no real connection between them.

Except for one thing.

Each of the bodies had been vandalized after the presumed murder, something written on the girls forehead in Ulta Red Lipstick. These words were similar insults, such as, “Whore”, “Slut”, “Hoe”, or “Lady of the Night”.

One had been shot, one stabbed, one hit with a blunt weapon, one strangulated, one had their throat slit, and one beaten to death. Yet, they were all prostitutes, and had all been given derogatory terms on their faces.

Davila couldn’t help but reminisce on the conversation Agent Ortiz and Brady had with Phoebe. The Yukahon bridge had been Ava-Rose’s favorite bridge. Yet, she hadn’t been found there.

Her thinking was interrupted when Agent Larsen burst open the door. “Davila. They found another body under the Yukahon bridge. Apparently, Ortiz, Brady, and Nelson are on the chase with someone who fled the scene. You’re needed here.”

Her face dropped. “We have to go there.”

***

The car raced through a dense forest, following the directions Larsen had been giving her. The lights barely showed what was in front of her, making it difficult to recognize whether you were taking a sharp left onto a new road or into a tree.

“Here!” Nearly not visible, another cop car was in front of a tree. They stopped the car and raced out, following the direction of shouting. But, the shouting was not because they had found the culprit. Well, they had. Phoebe was hovering over the corpse of her child.

"What happened here? Did we find her?" Davila turned to Larsen. His face was an off pale, setting at one lighter than his normal tan skin tone. "Yes. But it was her. She was.. the one." He swallowed a large lump in his throat.

They walked closer to Phoebe. calling the medical unit to come to this side forest. "My baby.." She kept repeating in a hypnotic-like state. "Mrs. Rose?" Davila whispered, kneeling down to her crouched form. "It's gonna be okay."