He's guilty. We have him. I wanted to feel smug for catching him, but instead, I felt relief. It had been months. A rampage across my city, little girls going missing. Little girls being killed. I think more than a few of us wanted to end him right there in the interrogation room. Do the world a favor.

I took a long sip of my coffee and leaned back in my uncomfortable folding chair. I hate to stereotype, but this guy looked exactly the part. Mid-thirties, greasy dark hair, stocky build. His mustache still laced with crumbs where Detective Mitchell, my partner, had leveled him out before he could finish his sandwich. She was strong for such a petite woman.

Through the two-way mirror, I watched him stare at the table. Guilty, guilty, guilty. At first, he hadn't made it easy on us. But with this last girl... I mean, it was like a trail of evidence leading right to him.

I turned the dial to hear the detectives in the room more clearly. It was Mitchell and Reyes. Mitchell had been passionate about this case from the start. Her little girl was killed just a few years before this asshole started his spree.

"I don't know what you're talking about," The guy mumbled. "I didn't do anything."

Reyes very calmly started slipping pictures out of the folder and sliding them closer. The guy looked up for just a moment, before shuddering and looking away.

"Don't show me this stuff!" He suddenly got louder, turning slightly in his chair.

I felt a pinprick in my chest. He seemed... genuinely shocked by the pictures. I shook it off. A psychopath could act the emotions out with no problem. But, could a psychopath make so many sloppy mistakes so suddenly?

I stood up, rubbing my temples. I'd been up for 48 hours, interrogating this guy and searching his house. Scratching my stubble absentmindedly, I decided to go through the evidence again. I could get like this after a long case. When we'd finally catch the guy, I'd doubt the evidence.

Opening the box in the evidence locker, I pulled out all we had found. Socks. He was collecting socks. They were all neatly placed in a little shoebox in his shed. They were washed, no fingerprints on anything.

But there were hairs, I reminded myself, pulling out the little bag with his hair in it. Cut hairs, as if he had trimmed his beard and accidentally dropped his clippings. His beard trimmer was found in the garbage as well, like he knew we'd find the shavings. He insisted he didn't have a beard trimmer, of course.

So what, someone shaved you in your sleep? Give me a break.

Test his blood for sleeping pills.

I shook my head again and yawned. I was being ridiculous. This was open and shut. I started placing the socks back into the box when I saw it. My heart stopped, I swear, for a moment. On the edge of my table was a knee-high sock. It had frills at the top, with little white rabbits in top hats dotted all around them.

After collecting myself, I grabbed the sock, stuffed it in my suit pants pocket and rushed out the door. Reyes was standing outside the interrogation room, leaning against the wall. "This guy is tough," he sighed deeply, "I don't know how she keeps her cool in there."

I laughed awkwardly and brushed past, walking briskly towards our desks. I stopped at the desk I was looking for and picked up the picture. There she was. A little blonde girl in a frilly white dress and knee-high socks. I pulled out the one in my pocket to compare. I'd seen this photo every day for 5 years.

"My grandmother sent the outfit over from England, aren't they darling?" Her voice echoed in my ears.

Location of the bodies: the large forested area. That her house backed on to.

Condition of the bodies: untouched, poisoned.

Position of the bodies: laid out in pretty dresses and shoes.

Shit.

I closed my eyes as my heart thumped away. I had to be overtired. There was no way.

"I think we should look into this guy some more."

"I'll stake out his place."

"Don't worry, I can go alone."

I wanted to scream. Instead, I held tightly onto the picture. So tightly I felt the glass might break under my fingers.

I felt Reyes tap on my shoulder. I spun around. "Get Detective Mitchell out of that interrogation room, now." I said tightly.

"Elaine?" He furrowed his brow, "She went into the evidence locker to get something and never came back. I was gonna ask you if you'd seen her."

She's guilty. We've lost her.