It was still raining, and Birch opened an umbrella over Ashley.

“I won’t see the bodies, will I?”

“We’re just going in the kitchen,” he assured her.

Birch had been in the house earlier and he knew the way to the kitchen, which was adjacent to the stairs that led to the second floor. A photographer was snapping shots of the area. Birch shooed him out of the room.

“Take your time, Ashley,” the detective said. “Look around all you want.”

Ashley stood in the center of the room and turned slowly before focusing on the kitchen table. There were two folded paper napkins and a small spot of milk. She walked over to the sink. Then she opened the dishwasher.

“This is wrong,” Ashley said.

“What’s wrong?”

“When we got home Dad emptied the dishwasher. Mom was gone and he wanted the place to be clean when she got back, so he ran a wash before he came to the game. Then he put the dishes and glasses in the pantry.”

“Okay.”

“Tanya and I had some chocolate cake and milk when we watched this movie we rented. Mom made the cake. Our dirty dishes and stuff are in the dishwasher. We put them in after Dad went to bed. But there’s nothing in the sink and no other dishes or glasses or forks in the washer, and I know he ate something.”

“Maybe he didn’t use a plate or fork,” Birch said. “Maybe he ate with his hands.”

“No,” Ashley said adamantly. “I heard a plate hit the table. It’s why I…I left my dad. I knew he was done downstairs and was going to come for me. So, where is the plate?”

Birch scanned the room. He noticed that the door to a cabinet under the sink was ajar. The detective was wearing latex gloves but he used a pencil to open the door. A box of garbage bags was lying on its side, and the tip of a new bag was visible. Birch squatted in front of the cabinet, thinking. After a moment, he stood up.

“You’re certain that you heard the refrigerator door open?”

Ashley nodded. Birch opened the refrigerator. “Check it,” he said. “See if you can figure out what he ate.”

Ashley looked inside. A transparent plastic milk container was up front. She studied the level of the milk. Then she looked back and forth among the shelves, searching for something.

“The cake is gone. He took it all and the plate it was on. And I’m certain he poured some milk from this container. It was three-quarters full when we were done. And look. There’s some milk on the table. I wiped the table after we ate.”

“Good girl. This is terrific detective work.” Ashley smiled for the first time since her ordeal started. “I’m betting our man put the plate, the cake, everything that could give us a DNA trace, into one of these trash bags and took it with him.”

Ashley stopped smiling. “Does that mean you won’t be able to find him?”

“No, Ashley. It just makes our job a little harder.”

March had been unseasonably cold. April made up for the rainy gray days with a profusion of multicolored flowers and vibrant greens that were so bright in the sharp sun they seemed unnatural. Ashley saw very little of the change of seasons. She had loved her father, and the fact that he had died to save her was devastating. The horrible way that Tanya Jones had died compounded Ashley’s grief.

Right after the murders, Ashley’s coaches, some of her teammates, and several of her friends had stopped by or called. The conversations had been awkward and painful for Ashley. Everyone meant well but they did not know what to say after “I’m so sorry,” “We love you,” and “Are you okay?” After the first few visits and calls, Ashley stopped seeing or talking to anyone. A few friends persisted for a while before giving up.

The reaction of Todd Franklin, Ashley’s boyfriend, had been especially difficult for her. Todd was the captain of the boys’ soccer team, which did not do nearly as well as the girls’ team. Sometimes Ashley thought that Todd resented the recognition she received. They had started seeing each other early in the year, but Ashley wasn’t sure she wanted to keep dating Todd.

They went out mostly with other friends, but they had been alone at parties and a few times at her house after her parents had gone to sleep. She liked making out with Todd. He was gentle and he made her laugh, but he also got mad when she didn’t let him go all the way. Ashley just wasn’t ready to make love to anyone yet. She thought she would do it with the right guy. Todd just wasn’t that boy.

Todd had come over to see her a few days after the attack. The meeting had been awkward from the start. Everyone knew from the stories in the media that Tanya had been raped before she’d been killed, but the same reports had been silent about what had happened to Ashley.

Terri had left Ashley and Todd alone in the den. They’d sat on the couch where the two of them had made out on several occasions. Usually, Todd was all over her as soon as the door closed. This time, he had kept a space between them and made no move to touch her. He hadn’t looked at her directly for more than a second or so, and his conversation was monosyllabic. He made her feel like a leper, and she thought that he’d come to see her out of a sense of obligation, but would rather be anywhere else. Not that she wanted to be touched. Any thought of sex evoked memories of the killer’s probing finger and his sour odor. Still, it would have been nice if Todd had shown some sign of affection instead of sitting next to her as rigid as a rabbit poised for flight. After that meeting, Todd had not visited or called again.

Since the tragedy, Ashley had refused to return to school. She stayed in her room or sat in the recliner in the family room watching mindless television shows. Terri Spencer told her daughter that no one was accusing her of being responsible for Tanya’s death, but Ashley was certain that her classmates would demand to know why she had lived and Tanya had died.

On the second Friday in April, at four in the afternoon, Terri returned from a meeting with the principal of Eisenhower High School. Ashley’s mother was five-foot-three, with large brown eyes, a dark complexion, and straight black hair she wore in a short, practical cut. She had competed in cross-country in college and still had the slender, wiry build of a long-distance runner. When Terri walked into the family room there was a talk show on the tube. She watched her daughter from the doorway for several seconds. Terri was certain that Ashley was using the show as a narcotic and would not be able to tell her a thing about it if she quizzed her.

Ashley’s self-imposed exile was frustrating and painful for Terri, who had raised a self-sufficient, confident young woman and now lived with an insecure young girl who had nightmares that kept her up at night and left her so exhausted that she slept away a good part of the day. She had suggested therapy, but Ashley refused to discuss the murders with anyone. Terri was having a hard time dealing with her own grief, but she did not have the luxury of withdrawing from the world. She had to take care of Ashley and earn a living.

Ashley was dressed in sweats, and her hair was uncombed. It took all of Terri’s self-control to keep from throwing her into a cold shower. She prayed that her news would break Ashley out of her funk. She attracted her daughter’s attention by switching off the set.

“I’ve got two pieces of good news,” Terri said. Ashley eyed her warily.

“I just finished talking to Mr. Paggett. He’s going to let you finish your junior year without going back to school. You won’t even have to take any exams. He’ll give you the grades you’ve gotten to date. They’re pretty high so that’s okay.”

A look of relief spread across Ashley’s face, but Terri showed no reaction. Ashley had always confronted her fears; she was strong, a born leader. That she wanted to hide in her house saddened Terri.