‘Mr. Phillipson?’

‘Ye…yes.’ Jason Phillipson cleared his throat and wiped a hand over his haggard face. ‘Follow me,’ he said as he stepped to the side and ushered the two indoors.

It wasn’t the massive, expensive paintings that decorated the small foyer or the crystal chandelier hanging from the high-vaulted ceiling that immediately snagged Alyssa’s attention. It was what could only be described as a shrine to their daughter that did it. One four-tiered shelf held a multitude of silver soccer trophies, a couple of swimming medals, and what appeared to be dance or cheerleading accolades. On either side of the shelf were nearly wall-to-ceiling photographs of a smiling and quite petite Katelyn in various poses and throughout various stages of her life from infancy to her eighth-grade dance, which if it was anything like Isaac’s school, would have been held just two weeks ago.

Despite the obvious wealth, it was equally obvious that the Phillipsons cared more about showcasing their pride in their daughter than interior decoration. The differences between them and the Otises were glaring.

Alyssa moved closer to the pictures. Without fail, in every single photo, whether by herself or posing with her friends, family, or with a myriad of different animals ranging from a leashed rat to a kangaroo and everything in between, Katelyn Phillipson wore an ear-to-ear smile, the kind that worked itself up all the way into her eyes. It didn’t take detectives of Alyssa and Cord’s caliber to realize the missing teen was not only a happy girl, she was adored by her parents; the wall collage just proved it.

As Katelyn’s father led the way into the family room, he said, ‘My wife will be out in a moment. She’s just getting off the phone with her mother back in New York.’

While this room wasn’t a continuation of the absolute adoration found in the other one, evidence of the love and pride they had in their daughter still decorated several spaces.

‘She’s a straight-A student,’ a voice said from behind Alyssa, and she turned her neck to see Mrs. Phillipson exit from a home office and cross over to the brown leather sofa, stopping to stare at the wall where yet another photograph of their daughter hung. Then, as if her legs could no longer support her weight, she sank into the sofa. ‘She’s not only smart, but she’s kind and respectful.’ She turned her teary, fear-filled eyes to Alyssa. ‘Please, you have to find her.’ She held out her arm, her hand gripping a stack of photographs which she offered to Alyssa.

‘I promise you she didn’t run away, Detectives. That’s not like our Katelyn. She was so looking forward to her last summer before high school, and with only two and a half days left, she’d already made plans for most of it.’

Katelyn’s mother rambled, but neither Alyssa nor Cord stopped her. Sometimes they learned more that way, things that would assist in finding their daughter.

‘She’s a good girl,’ Mrs. Phillipson whispered. ‘She was already planning on helping me out at The Rescue Center downtown where I volunteer. That’s the kind of teenager she is, the kind who helps feed the homeless on her first day of summer break.’ Her voice cracked, and Mr. Phillipson moved in closer to his wife, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She reached up and squeezed his fingers. ‘Jason and I wanted Katelyn to realize that, while she had a good life here, there are many out there who don’t. We tried to teach her that money doesn’t bring a person respect. Kindness and your actions do.’