Girl vanished from her bed in 1991 — 9 years later mom plays her old recording toy…and was shocked

Police are on their way, the dispatcher assured her. Stay on the line until they arrive. While waiting, Elaine couldn’t resist examining the cassettes Matthew had dropped in his haste.

She picked them up carefully, reading each label. Princess Room Volume, 23 inches. Princess Room Volume, 89 inches.

Princess Room Volume, 256 inches. Her stomach churned. How many were there? She peered into the hidden compartment and saw rows of boxes, each containing dozens of tapes and discs.

Hundreds in total, all labeled with the same cryptic title. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder. Through the window, she saw two patrol cars pull up, lights flashing red and blue against the darkening sky.

Ma’am? A uniformed officer appeared in the doorway, hand resting on his weapon. Are you Elaine Rhodes? Yes. She stood on unsteady legs.

The man who attacked me left about ten minutes ago. He was drunk or on drugs. He took some of these.

She gestured to the tapes. More officers entered, securing the house. The lead officer, a detective by his plain clothes, introduced himself as Detective Morrison.

He was older, mid-fifties, with kind eyes that had seen too much. Elaine told him everything. Finding Matthew in the office, the assault, the wardrobe falling, and revealing the hidden tapes.

Morrison listened carefully, taking notes. You said his name is Matthew Tenko? Morrison asked. Yes.

He’s my ex-husband’s best friend. They’ve known each other since high school. She paused.

I should call Charles. He needs to know what happened. Morrison nodded.

Good idea. We’ll want to speak with him, too. Elaine dialed Charles’ number, the detective standing nearby.

The phone rang several times before Charles answered. Elaine? His voice was sharp with irritation. Why do you keep calling me? Charles, where are you? I told you, I’m with Matthew at therapy.

What is this about? Elaine felt her heart sink. Another lie. Charles, Matthew was just here, at your house.

He attacked me. The police are here now. Silence on the other end.

They want to talk to you, Elaine continued. She held out the phone to Morrison. He wants to speak with you.

Morrison took the phone. Mr. Rhodes, this is Detective Morrison. We need you to come to your residence immediately.

There’s been an incident involving… The line went dead. Morrison frowned and handed the phone back. He hung up.

He said he was at his therapy group, Elaine said. With Mrs. Janssen. But that can’t be true if Matthew was here.

Morrison turned to one of his officers. Get the therapy center’s address and this Mrs. Janssen’s contact information. Send a unit to check it out.

While officers made calls, Morrison examined the tapes. His expression grew more serious as he read the labels. These all say Princess Room.

What does that mean? I don’t know, Elaine admitted. I heard it on an old recording of my daughter today. She… she went missing nine years ago.

These tapes were hidden under the floor. Morrison’s eyes sharpened. Your daughter is missing? What was her name? Isabella, Izzy.

She was five when she disappeared from her bed. Elaine’s voice cracked. The police never found any leads.

The detective exchanged glances with his officers. Ma’am, I think we should look at what’s on these tapes. They moved to the living room.

Elaine’s hands trembled as she turned on the TV and inserted a disc into Charles’ player. The screen flickered to life. At first, it seemed innocent.

Charles and five-year-old Izzy in their living room, playing with blocks. Izzy’s laughter filled the room. That same bright sound from the cassette recorder.

That’s from before she disappeared, Elaine whispered. Maybe a few months. On screen, Charles smiled at the camera.

Izzy, want to play a game? Go to the Princess Room and surprise me. Okay, Daddy. Izzy jumped up and ran off-camera.

Her footsteps could be heard going downstairs. Charles looked directly at the camera and began counting. One, two, three.

He drew out each number, taking several seconds between them. She’s going to the basement, Elaine said, confused. But we never called it the Princess Room.

Charles reached ten and stood. The camera followed him as he walked to the basement door and descended. The video cut abruptly.

When it resumed, they were in a different room. Pink walls, stuffed animals, a child-sized bed with princess sheets. Elaine had never seen this room before.

Izzy sat on the bed wearing a tiny bikini swimsuit, far too adult for a five-year-old. She looked uncomfortable, uncertain. Now, pose for Daddy, Charles’s voice came from behind the camera.

What followed made Elaine’s blood run cold. Charles entered the frame and sat beside Izzy. His hands moved to touch her in ways no father should touch his child…