In the meantime, police are still searching for thirty-four-year-old Steven Yarmini, pictured here on the screen. Yarmini is suspected of raping and murdering fourteen-year-old Meghan Jessup who went missing from Santa Fe in April and who is believed to be one of the girls trafficked from the Placitas location.

If anyone knows the whereabouts of either Yarmini or Salazar, they are urged to contact the police right away. And now, we’re going to go live to watch Captain Guthrie Hammond of APD as he addresses the media in a press release.

Alyssa shook her head, her lip curling at the men’s proclamation of innocence. It was all they’d gotten out of them last night, too. She pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a text to Cord.

Are you on your way?

In the stairwell. Elevator was too crowded. Be there in thirty seconds.

In half that time, a loud clang rang through the room as the door to the stairwell banged open, announcing Cord’s arrival.

Except the man coming toward her was not the partner she’d known for the past five years. Instead of his usual long strides and his confident persona, he now held his elbows tightly against his sides as his eyes darted from Alyssa to the metal doors behind her which housed the girls. The way he approached made him appear taller than his six-foot-two height.

She didn’t even get a chance to say hello before he grabbed hold of her and pulled her around a corner where they could talk more privately. ‘I just want to get this out there in the open. Yes, Shelley is in the back of my mind, but I can stay objective. Now, I stood by you when you discovered Evan Bishop was really Timmy, and so I need you to afford me the same courtesy and stand by me like we agreed.’

Alyssa took two steps back, tilted her head back, and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Have I somehow given you the impression that I wouldn’t? That I somehow suddenly find you incapable of doing your job?’

Cord rotated his neck on his shoulders and rubbed one hand over his hair, sending it into disarray as he did. ‘No.’

‘Then afford me the courtesy of believing I would’ve stood by you without the lecture. And on that note, we have some survivors we need to interview. We’ll start with Jersey, unless you have somewhere else you’d like to begin?’

Her partner had the grace to blush. ‘Jersey’s fine. And I’m sorry. I guess I’m more sensitive than I thought.’

‘Of course, you are. Just like I was.’ She twisted so she could jostle him with her elbow. ‘Now, if you’re finished being melodramatic, let’s go.’

Cord laughed. ‘Lead the way.’

But when they reached Jersey’s room, she was still sleeping, despite the bevy of nurses and assistants flurrying around as they poked and prodded. Alyssa nodded to Natalia Andrews who sat on the edge of her seat as she sat vigil over her daughter. The remnants of a sleepless night were evident in her puffy, red eyes and tear-streaked make-up.