An amateur medium races against the brink of her own sanity to track down a serial killer who is already in possession of his next victim.
And she only has 23 days to solve the case or else.
***
Devyn Brooks has only ever had one fear: don't becom...
For the first time ever, I arrive at Professor Abdullah's class early. My phantom posse sticks to our deal by guarding me outside of class, so it's strange to be this alone with my thoughts. Without one of them asking me if I'm okay every five damn seconds.
I pick my usual spot near the back and immediately set my iPad up on the attachable desk. Then I bring my last-minute caramel macchiato purchase to my lips, savoring the steam on my upper lip, clicking the Google search engine. A yawn pulls my lips apart.
Sleep did not come easy last night. I spent half the night tossing and turning, thinking about that little girl. The sleep I did manage came in small doses of Tanya's murder.
Over and over and over again.
My obsession to learn more about her is already starting to eat away at me. I wish I had asked more questions before she disappeared for good.
In the search bar, I type my first inquiry.
missing black girl, Tanya phx AZ
Just as I feared, hundreds of Tanyas come into view. Most of them white women with half-naked poses for social media accounts. The few Black girls I come across don't look like Tanya at all. They're too old or too young or went missing but now are found.
It suddenly dawns on me that maybe Tanya's murderer was charged. Maybe he's rightfully rotting away in a prison cell today.
Tapping my fingernails against the desk, I give Google another phrase.
solved murder cases phx AZ
The results direct me to a database of over 200,000 missing person cases, both solved and cold. I sit up straighter in my seat. Now I'm gettin' somewhere.
Professor Abdullah enters the room, naturally demanding all attention. She sets her things down near the podium, arranging her notes, and does a double take of me. A small grin plays out on her face.
She finally emailed me back late last night confirming that she'd accept my late work. I'd grin back but part of me is still too fuckin' irritated that it took her that long to reply.
I resume my attention to the database and type in the name Tanya. A list of faces stretch on—none of them matching the sweet little girl I met yesterday in the park. I try other spellings of the name but still come up short.
A sigh floats to the top of my lungs, aching for release.
Searching for Tanya is getting me nowhere. Yet the vivid images of her kidnapping and murder haunt me even now. And I have a feeling they'll continue to do so. Nothing has sat right in me since my encounter with her—not my sense of self, not my alignment to peace. I feel this overwhelming need to find her killer.
Abdullah begins her lecture and soon her voice becomes white noise. I'm supposed to be taking notes and logging into her shared presentation. But instead I find myself opening my Notes app. Then I find my fingers typing out the details I remember. Because maybe if I write this all down, something will click—a new clue, an idea, anything.
I didn't get a great view of the murderer. I only know that he's sort of tall. Pretty hefty and muscular. Ooh, and he was whistling that creepy song. The one I have never heard before but it sounded kinda old-timey.
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