Fifteen
Thank God for a modern case management system. I could access the information on the third scene from my car. By the time I pulled up to Newbury Street and stepped onto the sidewalk a block from the scene, I knew everything non-magical about the crime. Twelve-year-old Gabby Freeman had been out walking early with her mother and younger brother when she’d simply vanished.
I wove my way through the late morning pedestrian foot traffic in the area. I darted across Boylston Street, glaring at the Duck Boat driver who barely swerved to avoid hitting me. I spotted the area of the street cordoned off with crime scene tape. A bored looking uniformed officer stood watch.
“Detective Trenton,” I said and held up my badge.
“Something I can help you with, Detective?” He asked.
“Letting me
