Detective Brandon

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The student interviews were a fucking disaster. They cleared up nothing and only gave a more confusing picture of who Caitlyn is, or was. One minute she was a prude, the next a slut. Friendly, yet a bitch. Sweet, but not someone to mess with. It reminded me of all the reasons why I hated high school. 

There were only three pieces of useful information that we received: the fact that she didn't go to the library every day after school like her parents had indicated, although it was hardly news that a teen girl might lie to her parents about her after-school whereabouts. There was the year she went MIA from Highland Park High, a rather important detail that her parents somehow forgot to mention. And of course, the fact that she had a boyfriend, which I had to admit wasn't exactly a bombshell. Despite her parents' insistence that she didn't, Caitlyn wasn't exactly the first teen girl to have a secret boyfriend. 

I knew we needed to be careful in our approach of questioning said boyfriend. This could be the lead we desperately needed. Over the years, I'd seen plenty of "lovers spats" that had resulted in assault, battery and the occasional murder. Had Caitlyn met a similar end? It seemed pretty extreme for a teen romance, but again, not completely unheard of.

I decided to go to her best friend first. If there was one thing I knew about teenage girls, it was that they loved to tell their girlfriends everything, and I mean EVERYTHING. Throughout years of interrogation, I had found that women were much more likely to share the sordid details of their relationships with each other than men. Men share conquests, but women share the truth, every last dirty detail, and that's exactly what I needed.

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