Beckett felt a punch in her gut, as did Brennan for different reasons, but she kept her voice calm as she said, 'How did your mother take it when you didn't get into Hill's class?'

'She was pretty pissed off, called him an unreasonable prick prejudiced against those who came from money, but the shit didn't hit the fan until I said I'd take the class with Dexter and his tutor over this summer,' Ashley replied. 'I was perfectly fine with having morning class and then spending my afternoons volunteering or with my friends out on Strawberry Island. Kept me away from this place plenty.'

'Things aren't good at home?'

'Kinda hard to explain,' Ashley said, refilling her lemonade and pouring a glass for Adam as well. 'My mother would vent to me about things not my business.'

'What kind of business? It's not gossip, Ashley,' Adam added, anticipating her hesitation.

'My dad thought once I was in high-school my mom would give up teaching and plan luncheons and charity events. My mom confides in me like I'm one of her girlfriends and not her child how my dad's a jerk, he doesn't understand, bla-bla-bla. Meanwhile I'm like, Mom, this is your shit not mine, don't suck me into your drama. Hence the not-minding summer school.'

She played it off with a casual shrug that told Adam it had pissed the mother off the daughter was not who she wanted her to be. Then he got lemonade up his nose when he took a sip from his glass as Ashley added, 'Besides, who is she to act like a martyr when she's been fucking some guy since at least New Year's Eve?'

'Excuse me?' Beckett blinked, passed Adam napkins.

'Everyone knows thinks the spouse always knows, but my dad is so swamped with trying to make sure he isn't lynched or fired because he's a Wall-Street banker who didn't get taken down when the crash came that he hasn't seen the signs.' Ashley frowned, sipped the last of her lemonade. 'In our family, it's the daughter. Mom didn't think I'd notice that smell on her.'

'You're pretty savvy for a sixteen-year-old.'

'I'm a high-school student at a five-figures-a-semester for tuition private school,' she pointed out. 'We probably party harder than some rock-stars simply because we've got the money too, and that includes being able to pick out which of my friend's have gone into a guest room and gotten naked with their flavour of the night.'

'Ashley, we don't-'

'Please, let me get it out.' Ashley's voice suddenly turned shaky. 'I haven't even told my friends I know this. I didn't even write it in my diary.'

'Okay.'

'I...I spent New Year's Eve with my friends Gabe, Edie and Ariel at Edie's family's cottage on Strawberry Island, my parents were in the city. I was volunteering at a homeless shelter, and I thought I was going to be heading right out there after I was done my shift but I realized I'd forgotten my pills for my back and I'd need them over the weekend, so I came home. I didn't think anyone was home since no lights were on, so I went to my room, and that's when I her it.'

'Heard what?'

'I, ah...I heard her, very loudly and very clearly say...' Ashely trailed off, her cheeks a flaming red as she clenched her eyes shut. 'She was moaning and telling him to stick his tongue in her pussy, then she let out this cry and said 'just like that, baby, just like that', and then she screamed she was...y'know...'

'Having an orgasm?' Beckett prompted her, knowing what the woman had probably said in the throes of passion.

'Yeah, only not in those words.' Ashley set her glass down and pressed her palms to her cheeks. Her fingertips were cold from the cold drink and felt good on her enflamed skin. 'Then I could hear them both grunting and panting so I got my pills and got the hell out of there. By the time my subway got to the Strawberry Island ferry I was a little more leveled out, and thankfully none of my friends questioned me getting drunk that night.'

'Your mom and her lover, they didn't hear you leave?' Adam asked her, and the teenager leveled him with a look as only a woman could do.

'Detective, if I'd jumped on the bed banging a wooden spoon on a soup pot they wouldn't have noticed me.'

'You don't know who it was though?'

Ashley shook her head. 'No, I never heard her use his name once, and if she did, it wasn't when I was around.'

As Beckett knew what it would have cost the girl to admit something so embarrassingly personal, she stood up, moved to kneel in front of the girl. 'I know it's gotta be tough to think of this, but can you remember any other details? Did you recognize his shoes, his cologne, anything?'

'Truthfully, I still can't get a good night's sleep and I...any time I see a movie with a woman screaming out her enjoyment of sex, all I can think of is that night hearing her, and...'

Neither detective said a word as the tough-talking teenager dissolved into sobs like a humiliated child, because that's exactly what she was. Adam moved to pass her some tissues while Beckett rubbed her hand gentle on Ashley's knee.

'Ashley I want to give you the name of a doctor who's really good to talk to about this kind of stuff.'

'Okay.' Ashley dipped her hand into the pocket of her hoodie, pulled out her phone to type in the number and extension Beckett gave her. 'That's Doctor Weaver's number over at the Healing Hands clinic. She's affiliated with Stuyvesant Memorial and she's specializing in youth psychiatry.'

'How do you know her?'

'She's my daughter.'

'Thanks.' Ashley took the Kleenex Adam offered and sighed when the phone rang. Moments later, Ruskin the butler came rushing in.

'Miss Ashley, I just had a call from the doorman. Your parents are on their way up.'

'Thanks Ruskin.' Ashley stood up, looked at Adam. 'Do I look like I've been crying?'

'Not at all,' Adam replied honestly, then gave his card to Ashley. 'That's my contact information as well. If you think you remember something off about today, this morning, please let me know. And take Beckett's advice on it too, Doctor Weaver's the best at talking to troubled people.'

'Says the voice of experience?' Ashley asked with a wry smile.

Adam knew it would be breaching protocol slightly to tell Ashley about Lindsay's experience, but he did nonetheless and he saw the light of understanding in the girl's eyes.

'Okay. I'll give her a call.'

She'd no sooner tucked the card and her phone back into her pockets when the door burst open and Beckett saw the woman with her nervous eyes, the man with his tired ones rush into the parlour and glare at the cops in their home.

'How dare you come into our home and question our daughter like some street thug,' Carolina hissed.

'Mom, I told Ruskin to let them in. I want to deal with this and be done with it,' Ashley said calmly, and her father nearly snarled.

'You had nothing to do with Professor Hill's death and I'm both shocked and disgusted by your complete lack of sensitivity, Detective.'

'Sensitivity?' Beckett asked innocently as she put her thumbs in her back pockets.

'My wife and daughter have been through a horrible trauma and you come in here acting like they've done something wrong. You should be looking at the scholarship kids, the ones who are only there because of a handout and come from poor, degenerate families with liars and cheats for parents.'

'Funny, I'd think they'd be the least likely to cause problems since they know what a privilege a school like that is. And the more your keep this up , the more I believe there's a secret connecting you to the victim you don't want anyone to find out about.'

Beckett stared straight at Carolina as she said it and was very pleased when the woman swallowed tellingly. 'Thank you for your time today, Ashley, we'll be in touch.'

When they were back on the street, before they got back in their car Beckett crossed the street towards a bodega with Adam hot on her heels. 'Why are we going for a snack?'

'I told you if you were a good boy, you'd get a treat. You want a churro or some Skittles?'