“There are literally thousands of pages of content on the phone. Texts and photos. Also, the history of Ellie’s web search and downloads, too.”

“That sounds daunting,” Sheriff replies.

“It is, though I’ve organized the content to what would be most helpful right now. After we go through it, we’ll take your direction on how to proceed as you build your cases.”

“Cases?” Sheriff asks.

I know Marley dropped that on purpose, so I give him a nod as the screen lights up.

“Let’s start with the text messages first,” I say. “I was up all night reading them.”

Marley nods. “Yeah, Ellie was a practiced texter. Maybe world class. Hardly a day went by until three weeks ago that she didn’t text several hundred times.”

“My thumbs hurt just thinking about that,” I say. “Did you organize by date or recipient?”

He opens a folder on the screen.

“Both.”

Sheriff gives me a look of approval.

He likes where this is going too.

“I focused on the primaries that Detective Carpenter noted in her report. Tyra Whitcomb’s number was aligned with contact name Ty. She was a primary focus of Ellie’s attention on social media and texting for quite some time.”

He indicates the screen. “Most of the texts were of this nature.”

The screen is filled with a grouping of texts.

Hey girl what’s up? Want to hang out?

Want pizza?

Got new shoes.

“I call these mundane,” Marley says.

“I call them inane,” I reply.

“Right. So there are literally thousands of these. The girls chatting back and forth about clothes, podcasts, celebrities. They come at all hours of the day and night.”

“I thought you couldn’t text in class,” Sheriff says.

“You couldn’t smoke on school grounds back in the day either,” I say, a gentle nudge to his old habit. “Besides, Ellie was homeschooled. And Tyra didn’t strike me as a girl who cared much about her education anyway.”

“Right,” Marley says. “All of that’s true. And all of that changed early in the summer.”

Like a novel reader cheater, I’m skipping through the pages he’d handed out.

“How so?” Sheriff asks.

Marley opens the second folder on the screen.

“Again, all of these are between Tyra and Ellie. In the spring the subject of their parents comes up more frequently. Mostly from Tyra who complains about how her dad is always belittling her mother.”

He points to a group of messages on the screen from Tyra to Ellie.

It’s my job to be a bitch to her. Not his. Jesus! My dad won’t let up.

My dad’s the same way. My mom’s no better.

This isn’t about you. God, can’t you just shut up and let me vent. Seriously.

Sorry. I was just saying.