"Steven's house isn't far from here," Nick mused. "Let's check there. Maybe our guy is hanging out with his buddy."

Steven's residence proved to be remarkably similar to Bradley's – another single-story structure showing clear signs of age and neglect. The only notable difference was its color, or what remained of it. Years of rain had stripped away so much of the paint that it was difficult to determine its original hue, leaving behind a mottled patchwork somewhere between blue and gray. A rusty, unlocked gate stood sentinel before the house.

They rang the doorbell several times, but were met with only silence. Nick took a walk around the perimeter, peering into windows and listening for any signs of life within. The house appeared to be completely vacant, giving the impression that it had been abandoned for quite some time.

"You know, Christian," Nick said, his voice laden with concern, "I really don't like the fact that these two have vanished right after Rose's death. Could they really be involved in this?"

Christian shrugged, his expression a mix of doubt and resignation. "I don't know what to think, Nick. These guys are Grade-A jerks, sure, but murder? Especially Rose, who they've known since school? She's the sheriff's daughter, for crying out loud. I can't imagine they'd have the guts for something like that."

"Maybe you're right," Nick conceded, though he couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial. "But we still need to find them. Let's head over to Jeffrey's place, then back to the station. We need to dig deeper into Bradley and Steven's backgrounds. Clearly, our information on their current whereabouts is outdated."

As they made their way back to the car, Nick couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. They needed to locate Bradley and Steven before Jeffrey took matters into his own hands. The grieving father's barely contained rage was a powder keg waiting to explode, and Nick feared what might happen if Jeffrey got to the suspects before the police did.

Nick and Christian finally arrived at the Saltano residence, the weight of their fruitless search hanging heavy between them. As they approached the front door, it swung open to reveal Mary Saltano. The sight of her nearly stopped Nick in his tracks. In the short time since Rose's death, Mary seemed to have aged a decade. Her hair hung limp and lifeless, so dirty it resembled straw more than human hair. Her black loungewear, clearly unwashed for days, hung loosely on her frame. But it was her eyes that truly gave Nick pause – red-rimmed and swollen from endless tears, they seemed to bore into him with a single, desperate question:

"Have you found the killer?"

The raw anguish in her voice cut through Nick like a knife. He felt the full weight of their lack of progress, knowing he had little of substance to offer this grieving mother.

"Hello, Mary," Nick began, his voice gentle. "We're doing everything in our power, but I'm afraid we don't have any definitive answers yet. What we do know is that Bradley Force was likely the last person to see Rose alive. We have a witness who saw them together at the Green Vault bar. There seems to have been some kind of argument between them. We're trying to locate Bradley now, but it appears he and his friend Steven are no longer living at their known addresses."

Nick watched Mary carefully as he spoke, noting how she seemed to sway slightly on her feet, as if the weight of her grief might topple her at any moment. His heart ached for her, knowing all too well the inadequacy of his words in the face of such profound loss.

As Nick finished speaking, Jeffrey appeared behind Mary, dressed in his sheriff's uniform. From his expression, it was clear he had overheard everything. Without a word, he ushered the detectives into the living room. Christian's eyes widened slightly as he took in the garish red wallpaper, a stark contrast to the somber mood permeating the house. Nick, however, had eyes only for Mary, overwhelmed by the depth of her suffering. "God, you wouldn't wish this on your worst enemy," he thought to himself.

Jeffrey, barely containing his rage, began pacing the living room, muttering unintelligibly under his breath. Mary sank onto the couch, her head bowed, a picture of silent despair. Nick took a seat beside her, while Christian stood awkwardly at the entrance to the living room.

"Mary," Nick began gently, "can you tell me about Rose's relationship with Bradley?"

At the question, Mary's composure crumbled entirely. She buried her face in her hands, her body wracked with sobs as guilt seemed to consume her. Jeffrey, in stark contrast, erupted in a shout that echoed through the house:

"Our daughter had nothing to do with that loser! They were just classmates, nothing more! I forbade her to associate with those two good-for-nothings. I told her they weren't her equals!"

"Jeffrey," Christian interjected, his voice calm but firm, "if that's the case, why was Rose with Bradley at the bar? Our witness reports an argument between them, followed by some kind of physical altercation."

Before Jeffrey could respond, Mary's voice cut through the tension, quiet but clear:

"Rose told me that Bradley had been persistently trying to court her. He'd been chasing after her since their school days, but Rose never reciprocated his feelings. I… I don't understand why she was with him that evening."

Jeffrey collapsed into an armchair opposite the couch, looking as if he'd been physically struck by this revelation.

"What? Why the hell didn't you tell me any of this before, Mary?" he snarled, his face contorting with a mixture of anger and betrayal. "I would have dealt with that punk long ago!"

"Rose begged me not to tell you," Mary replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she rubbed her knees nervously. "But who could have imagined he would… that he would kill our little girl?"

"Hold on," Nick interjected, his tone calm but authoritative. "Mary, let's not jump to conclusions. We can't say with certainty that Bradley is the killer. Right now, we have no concrete evidence against him, only the testimony of a witness who saw them together that evening."

Mary's sobs intensified, and suddenly she appeared to be on the verge of collapse. Her head was spinning, and she looked as if she might faint at any moment. Jeffrey, his anger momentarily forgotten, rushed to help his wife up to their bedroom on the second floor. He gently laid her on the bed, covering her with a blanket. Mary's body shook uncontrollably, prompting Jeffrey to give her a sedative to help her sleep.

"I don't want to live anymore, Jeff," Mary whispered, her voice fading as the sedative began to take effect. "I don't want to…"

Her words trailed off as she drifted into an uneasy sleep, the combination of exhaustion and medication finally overtaking her. Nick and Christian waited downstairs, and after a few minutes, Jeffrey descended the stairs, his face a mask of barely contained emotion.

"How's Mary holding up?" Nick asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"I gave her a sedative," Jeffrey replied, his tone flat. "She's asleep now."

"Alright, then Christian and I will head back to the station. We'll try to get more information on Bradley and Steven's whereabouts."

Jeffrey's demeanor suddenly shifted, his eyes blazing with a dangerous intensity. "Do whatever you want, but I have not a single doubt that he killed my daughter! I'll find him myself if I have to."