An 18-year-old girl named Ashley Crawford vanished from the sleepy city of Riverside on June 15, 1999.
The youngster walked outside to retrieve the mail in her front yard that bright afternoon.
Ashley didn’t come back when her mother called her in for lunch a short while later.
After the mail was abandoned on the ground, everything changed.
Police looked into her case for years.
They looked all throughout the city and spoke with friends, neighbors, and teachers, but they couldn’t find anything.
After being labeled a disappearance with suspected kidnapping, the case eventually faded into obscurity.
Ashley’s parents, David and Liada Crawford, suffered from an unhealed wound as a result of not knowing what had happened to their daughter.
Overwhelmed by loss, they relocated to Arizona in 2003 in pursuit of a fresh start.
But the enigma reappeared with a vengeance sixteen years later.
Ashley’s mother’s lifelong neighbor, Rebecca Thompson, was tending to her garden in August 2015 when everything changed due to a metallic tap hidden beneath the ground.
She found a little, rusty container while excavating close to an ancient oak tree.
There was a handwritten note and a butterfly necklace, the same one Ashley had been wearing the day she vanished.
Rebecca was shaken by the words:
If I die, I want to know the truth about Dr. Breppa. Room B7, clinic basement. Crawford, Ashley, June 15, 1999.
In addition to giving the family optimism, the discovery sparked suspicions about an untouchable—Dr. Harold Breppa, Ashley’s childhood doctor and a highly esteemed member of the community.
In addition to his private practice, Breppa was well-known for his charitable endeavors and his role on the local council.
When Ashley vanished, he had even assisted in leading a portion of the search.
The clinic was immediately searched by Detective Marcos Rodríguez, who was tasked with reopening the case.
He found something unsettling in room B7 of the basement: faint letters that said “HELP” were written on the wall behind the shelves.
The mark was still there even though it had been painted over multiple times.
More suspicious events were quickly discovered during the investigators.
Ashley had received considerable blood work during her most recent checkup, the clinic nurse acknowledged, and the doctor saw her alone, which is uncommon for basic examinations.
Ashley’s mother and best friend claim that although she had been happy at those times, she had complained of discomfort and worry, which was highly unusual for her.
When Rodríguez looked through medical records and found that other young patients had disappeared following similar appointments, what started as suspicion became a trend.
At least five girls between the ages of 18 and 21 who were Dr. Breppa’s patients vanished between 1997 and 2008 following visits requiring “special” blood testing.
These cases were written off at the time as isolated disappearances, marital problems, or runaways.
Nobody made the connection.
Even retired detective Warren Hayes and other former police colleagues eventually acknowledged that they had suspicions about Breppa.
The doctor had gained everyone’s confidence, participated fully in the search, and showed genuine sorrow.
However, the latest discoveries exposed a different reality: a cunning predator concealed by prestige.
Additional parts to the puzzle were provided by the security guards’ testimonies at the clinic.
In the early hours of the morning, when the clinic was supposed to be closed, some people remembered seeing the doctor enter the basement.
Others claimed to have heard odd sounds emanating from the vicinity of ward B7.
Dr. Breppa’s impeccable reputation began to deteriorate as the investigation went on.
He was suspected due to a pattern of disappearances, falsified medical records, and concealed evidence in his own clinic.
That hidden message’s echoes are still audible:
Why didn’t Ashley survive to share the whole tale, and what did she know?
“You’re Going to Stay With Us” — Said the 3 Giant Women Already Living on the Farm He Bought
uld have in his weathered hands. After three grueling days of travel through rough terrain, he had envisioned a fresh start, away from the complexities of town life. The promise of fertile land for cattle ranching had lured him in, but now, as he faced the imposing figures on the porch, that promise felt like a cruel joke.
Three women stood before him, their muscular frames casting long shadows across the dusty yard. The tallest among them stepped forward, a smile on her face that didn’t quite reach her cold blue eyes.
“You must be the new owner,” she said, her voice dripping with a confidence that sent a chill down Boon’s spine. As he looked at the other two women flanking her, he felt the intensity of their gazes, like predators sizing up their prey.
“Ladies, I think there’s been some confusion,” Boon replied, striving to keep his voice steady. “This is my property now. I have the legal documents right here.” He raised the deed, the official seal still crisp. The tall woman’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed too sharp.
“Oh, we know exactly who you are, Boon Whitmore. We’ve been expecting you.” Her words struck him like a thunderclap. How could they know his name? The seller had assured him the transaction was private. “We’ve been living here for quite some time,” the second woman added, her voice deep and resonant.
Boon felt a knot tighten in his stomach. “What do you mean?” he asked, dreading the answer. The redhead among them laughed, a low sound that sent shivers down his spine. “The previous owner made certain arrangements with us before he left. Arrangements that don’t just disappear because of a piece of paper.”
Suddenly, the weight of the situation bore down on him. These weren’t just squatters; they were women who had been wronged, and now he was caught in the web of their grievances. “What kind of arrangements?” Boon asked, though he already feared the answer.
The tall woman stepped closer, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. “The kind that involve you staying here with us permanently.” Boon’s heart raced as the implication of her words sank in. “You’re going to have sex with us, Boon. All three of us. That’s how this works.”
Boon felt the blood drain from his face. This wasn’t just intimidation; it was a threat wrapped in an audacious proposition. His hand instinctively moved toward the rifle on his horse, but he hesitated. What was he walking into? Why did he feel like his deed might not be worth the paper it was written on?
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing,” he said, forcing steel into his voice, “but I paid good money for this land, and I’m not going anywhere.” The tall woman chuckled, her laughter devoid of warmth. “Oh, Boon, this isn’t a game at all. This is business.”
She gestured toward the farmhouse. “The man who sold you this property owed us something. A debt that doesn’t disappear just because he ran off with your money.” Boon felt the first pangs of panic. The seller, Marcus Vance, had been eager to close the deal. Had he walked into a trap?
As the women revealed more about their history with Marcus, Boon began to understand the depth of the betrayal. They had been partners, lovers, and workers, only to be abandoned when Marcus decided he wanted out. “You see,” Helena, the tall woman, said, “we have a legitimate claim here, not just to the land, but to what we were promised.”
Boon’s mind raced. “Even if that’s true, I didn’t sign any agreement to take on his obligations.” Helena’s expression softened momentarily, revealing a vulnerability beneath her intimidating facade. “Legally, you’re probably not bound by Marcus’ promises. But morally, we’ve invested everything into this land. We have nowhere else to go.”
The weight of her words hung in the air, shifting the dynamics of their confrontation. These women weren’t predators; they were victims of Marcus’s deceit, and now they were looking to him for help. Boon’s heart clenched at the realization. They were trying to protect what they had built, and he was standing in their way.
“What exactly are you proposing?” Boon asked, his voice trembling with uncertainty. The three women exchanged glances, and he felt the gravity of his decision pressing down on him.
Helena stepped forward, her imposing frame somehow less threatening now that he understood their pain. “We’re proposing a real partnership,” she said. “Not the half-hearted arrangement Marcus offered, but something genuine. We work the land together, share the profits equally, and we share our lives.”
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken possibilities. Boon found himself drawn to their strength and vulnerability. They weren’t asking for a simple transaction; they were offering him a chance to be part of something deeper, something meaningful.
As they discussed their vision for the future, Boon felt his resistance wavering. The attraction he felt toward these women was undeniable, but more than that, he sensed a connection that transcended physical desire. They were offering him companionship, partnership, and a chance to build something together.
