It happened on April 15th.

A Monday.

Police Sargent James Pierce was asleep at 2:20 a.m. when he got the call.

They fucked up bad this time, Jim. You need to get down here and figure this thing out. If you don't, this whole department's going down like the Titanic once this story hits the news.

Pierce didn't find the play on words funny.

And it was too goddamn early to haul ass in his truck down to the harbor before the media got there first.

Bitter Tears Cross overlooked the Atlantic Ocean at a cliff face on a side road, somewhere in the area of the Great South Bay and the Sunken woods. It was open to the public, but mostly a favorite route for hikers into the state forest. Too many rocks and sharp turns going up the hill for anyone who didn't know the area.

Only time he ever got called up there was to talk a 51/50 from jumping off the cliff edge now and then.

But not for anything like this.

Nothing ever this whacka-doodle.

In fact, it was these kind of oogie-boogie stories that tanked the careers of police officers like him.

And he'd worked too hard to earn his reputation.

But this case-this "ghost story" as they were calling it-was destined to make or break his career.

"Somebody better start explaining this to me," Pierce demanded, stepping out of his truck into the chaos of red and blue police lights parked in a semi-circle facing the harbor. "How does a 24-year-old, unarmed college girl end up shot to death while in custody?"

"Glad you could make it down here, Sarg," a younger man in a suit flashed his badge at him. "I'm Detective Malich, from the county. I've been assigned the case."

"Jesus, I haven't even seen the case yet, and the county's already up my ass. Great to see our tax dollars doing some work. I been trying to get the county down here for months. So, what made you hotshots decide to finally grace my lowly little turf with your presence?"

"I'm not allowed to comment on that yet, while the investigation is pending," Detective Malich answered. "I don't mean to step on your toes, Sarg. I know you got a lot of fires to put out this week."

"Something about the month of April, I don't know what it is. Springtime is for lunatics too, I guess," Pierce shrugged a reply. "So, what happened here? A classic murder-suicide investigation? Girl breaks up with boy and boy can't handle it like a man, so, he throws her off the cliff?"

"That's what they're calling it," Malich remarked. "But you and I both know, it's never that simple."

Pierce gazed down at the 60-or-80-something drop off the cliff into a death trap of rock and pounding ocean waves.

No way in hell anybody could've survived that, let alone a young 24 year old female.

"Well, you're the expert, detective. What are you calling it?" Pierce asked Malich.

"Kidnapping gone wrong? Disgruntled employee who couldn't take rejection? Bonnie and Clyde wannabe?" Malich dropped his guesses on the table. "Take your pick."

"Who are the suspects?"

"That Honda you see over there, it's the one the primary suspect and the victim led in a police chase when they drove up here. It's registered to Koralie Rose Amberflaw. Date of Birth 05, 13, 2001. Lives with her father, Gavin Amberflaw. Worked as a cashier at the Titanic Gift Shop downtown. Her manager described her as a Caucasian female, green eyes, blonde hair about 5'6, 130 pounds."

"So, what does the father know about her and this boyfriend?"

"Only that she had no boyfriend that he knew of," Malich countered. "And when asked when he last spoke to her, he said his daughter died years ago, on April 15th."

Pierce checked his watch to confirm the day's date.

"Today? Well, what a coincidence...And about how many years ago does he claim this happened?"

"Couldn't tell me the exact year. In fact, he wasn't too forthcoming about details. Said he couldn't remember much of his memories, and that he takes medication for it."

"Sounds like the start of a beautiful 'I'm innocent by reason of insanity' case he's building there," Pierce remarked, putting on his reading glasses to jot some notes on the hood of his truck. "As far as I'm concerned, everybody's a suspect."

"Already ahead of you, Sarg," Malich noted too.

"You ID'ed this 'boyfriend' yet?" Pierce asked him. "The one who threw her over the cliff?"

"Caucasian male," Malich read directly from his notes. "Dark eyes. Dark hair. Suspect was wearing a waistcoat, pocket watch, neck tie, and a ship officer's cap with a White Star Line emblem. European accent, likely of Irish or Welsh origin."

"Jesus, are we talking Cracker Jack Box or Colonel Sanders?" Pierce eyed him over his glasses. "Any family we can reach out to to get more information on this guy?"

"We're working on that," Malich said. "All we have right now is surveillance evidence to go off of. The victim was last seen on surveillance around 16:43 hours, walking into the restrooms. According to the store manager, there's no cameras back there."

"And nobody saw her come back from the bathroom?"

"It appeared that she came back to the register one more time, to greet another customer, but the video drops into static after 16:47. Then pops back up at 16:56, where she's seen running back toward the restrooms. The manager told me there's an emergency exit in the hallway back there, and that's likely how she got out."

"And what evidence do you have that this could be a robbery or kidnapping gone wrong?"

"Absolutely nothing," Malich admitted. "The store manager reported that all merchandise and cash in the register were accounted for. And there didn't appear to be any ballistic damage to walls and windows. But the entryway to the shop had a door counter installed on it. It pinged four times during the hour. The back door at 16:14, the front door at 16:47. Then the front door went off again at 16:56, and the back door again at 17:01. Store manager confirmed none of the locks were damaged."

"And she was the only employee on the schedule at the time who'd have access to that back door?"

"Yes, sir."

"So, assuming it wasn't Amberflaw playing musical doors, and guessing that she had employee access to the back, let's assume she was the one to open the back doors at 16:14 and 17:01...Then who came into that shop with her at 16:47 and 16:56?"

"That's the million dollar question. The store manager said they'd just replaced the cameras. So, why did the cameras pointing at the entrance malfunction right as somebody walked into that shop with her?" Malich wondered. "And even when they do pop back up, she appears to be talking to someone else from the register."

"Sounds like somebody didn't want to be seen...or are you trying to tell me we're really dealing with some ghost here?" Pierce questioned him.

"A ghost who walks in broad daylight, apparently. A number of witnesses around the shop reported seeing them leave out the back door," Malich answered. "A 911 call was placed from the shopping plaza stating there were two active shooters in the vicinity. Deputies gave chase of the Honda, assuming it was the victim and the primary suspect who were the shooters. But after questioning witnesses, the description of the shooters didn't match the victim or the suspect we had."

"So, it's possible that these two were being pursued by another set of suspects?" Pierce furrowed his brow in confusion. "Is that how she ended up shot? That's what they called me down here to figure out."

"The female was driving and wrecked at that turn there," Malich pointed the spot out to him off to their right. "Where that opening in the trees is...At some point, the primary suspect got out on foot."

"I'm sorry, you said the one in the waistcoat?" Pierce still couldn't buy it.

"Waistcoat with a pocket watch. Just like the White Rabbit in Wonderland. My notes say at the time, officers were still under the impression that he and the girl were the active shooters reported from before, which later proved to be a false report," Malich said. "However, the first officers on scene did report that the male suspect had a firearm on him."

"What type of firearm was this?" Pierce asked, quickly scribbling away at his notes.

"Looked like a Browning 1910 Automatic Pistol."

"1910?" Pierce swore he didn't hear it right.

"Officers held them at gunpoint, which seemed to spook the suspect and make him draw his pistol too. It appeared that the girl attempted to come between police to defend the suspect, but when officers saw the pistol in the suspect's hand, they opened fire to subdue him, judging him to be a lethal threat. Somewhere in the confusion, the female was fatally shot."

"And was that done by my guys or this maniac?" Pierce stopped him to clarify.

"It wasn't clear. We'll need to see the body cams to make that determination," Malich said. "The suspect did appear deeply distressed by the girl bleeding on the ground, and pleaded with officers to assist her, but they ordered him to put his pistol down first. He would not comply. Police reported that he appeared disoriented and confused, and stated that he 'must return home'. Before deputies could stop him, the male suspect picked the girl up into his arms and jumped the cliff, taking the victim over the edge with him."

"Jesus," Pierce sighed, shaking his head. "What a fucking dumpster fire. Any bodies recovered yet?"

"We got a diving team about 15 minutes out. So far, no sightings of either of them."

"I need to see all the surveillance tapes you got out of that shop and all the body cam from the officers on scene," Pierce ordered one of his officers next to him. "If this guy really had a gun on him and was posing a valid threat, it could save our asses. Until I see a body, I'm calling this a Missing Persons case. But I need a better reason to report to HQ other than some ghost story as to why this girl was shot dead in the first place. And while you're at it, let's pick up her father and bring him in for questioning."

"He's already down at the station, sir," his officer replied. "But good luck getting anything out of him. He's a basket case."

Malich patted Pierce on the shoulder, as he walked away.

"Good luck, Jim."