My apologies about taking longer than usual to update. Work and this crazy weather have kept us busy on the farm. Hope you're staying safe out there.
"Mister and Misses Ferris, I am so sorry for having to question you during this difficult time …"
Difficult didn't even begin to describe it, Castle thought to himself, imagining the overbearing pain any parent would feel if confronted with an image of their dead daughter, just half of her face of course, being that the other half of her skull was caved in.
There was no telling, no mental image his creative mind could dream up that would come close to the pain and fear that the young girl must have felt before being brutally murdered.
And then there was the senselessness of it all.
The fact that she didn't die from natural causes, or, preferably, a hero's death. No, this death was to be ruled no more or less than being at the wrong place at the wrong time. His gut knew that for sure by now.
What a heart-wrenching situation this was all the way around.
Naturally, Beckett did an amazing job at being both, highly professional and empathetic at the same time, allowing the sobbing parents to ride through their waves of grief while also extracting valuable information for their case.
"Misses Ferris, you said that you saw your daughter Emily get into a dark sedan. Do you know the color or make at all?"
With her eyes red-rimmed from crying, she held onto her husband's hand with a death grip, before nodding slightly.
"Yes. I am pretty sure it was a Toyota Camry. You know the type with the long trunk? It was black. With a dent on the top of the trunk which seemed weird to me. It also had a soft tire in the rear. That's all I saw of the car. I didn't catch the plate unfortunately. I guess you don't think about something like that at the…at the time."
Immediately, Castle felt his heart race at the detail they were receiving at last. Even though she undoubtedly shared the same excitement, Beckett's expression remained stoically unchanged, her caring brown eyes never leaving her witnesses.
"Thank you, Misses Ferris, that is very helpful. I understand that you told Detective Esposito about the man that was in the car. Can you tell us more about what you saw and how he acted?"
They waited patiently when another bout of crying disrupted their interview and Castle reached over to hand the couple a box of Kleenex, reducing his reaction to faint nod of solidarity.
The entire time, Mister Ferris just sat there, staring stoically ahead as if the news of his daughter's death had wiped the life out of him, the shock so deep that it turned him into a statue. Just every once in a while Castle could see the corners of his mouth twitch, as though he was trying to say something but had no strength left to do so.
"Yes. Ehm…like I told the detective, I just saw him real quick. He ehm…well…Emily was going to walk over to a friend's house since they were going to the same college and loved studying together. I just happened to look out when she was crossing the street and suddenly that car pulled up next to her. At first she shook her head and moved on but the car followed her and eventually, she got in. God…I should have done more!"
"You did everything you could, Misses Ferris.", Beckett reassured and reached over to squeeze the sobbing woman's wrist, "Your testimony will help us greatly in narrowing down this killer so that he can be stopped."
With a fierce shake of the head, she looked down, her tears dropping onto the big leather purse she'd brought along, her fingers now digging into the material as though she was holding on for life.
"I just want my baby back!"
Beckett used that moment to look over at him, allowing for her inner struggle and pain with this situation to well to the surface, just long enough for a reprieve, before she once more focused on her witnesses.
"This is a very tragic situation and we're hoping that anything you can tell us about this man will prevent another young woman to go through what Emily did. Please Misses Ferris, this is very important."
"He's younger, maybe mid-thirties, white. Dark brown or black hair. I think he wore a dress shirt but I am not sure. I just saw him through the driver's side window."
With an understanding nod, Beckett leaned back, subtly twisting her stiff neck as she gestured toward the bullpen.
"Would you be able to sit with one of our composite sketch artists so that we can circulate his picture around town? It would be a great help."
"Under one condition.", the trembling mother said and raised her head to look at Beckett, Castle, and the one-way mirror as if to sense her audience, "I want to see my daughter one last time. And I know what you are going to say next so you might as well save it. I don't care how badly he mutilated her body; I just want to hold her hand one last time."
