On June 15, 1999, the quiet city of Riverside was shaken by the sudden disappearance of 18-year-old Ashley Crawford.
That sunny afternoon, Ashley stepped out into her front yard to collect the mail. A few minutes later, her mother called her inside for lunch—but Ashley never came back. The letters were found scattered on the ground. From that moment on, nothing was ever the same.
Police launched an extensive investigation. Neighbors, friends, and teachers were interviewed. Search teams combed the area, but no trace of Ashley was ever found. The case was eventually classified as a suspected kidnapping and, over time, went cold.
For Ashley’s parents, David and Liada Crawford, the pain of not knowing what happened to their daughter became unbearable. In 2003, overwhelmed by grief, they moved to Arizona in hopes of starting over.
Sixteen Years Later
In August 2015, the mystery resurfaced in an unexpected way.
Ashley’s godmother and longtime neighbor, Rebecca Thompson, was working in her garden when her shovel struck something metallic beneath the soil near an old oak tree.
Digging deeper, she uncovered a small, corroded metal container. Inside were two items:
a butterfly necklace—the same one Ashley had been wearing on the day she disappeared—and a folded handwritten note.
The message made Rebecca’s hands tremble:
“If anything happens to me, find out the truth about Dr. Breppa.
Clinic basement, Room B7.”
—Ashley Crawford, June 15, 1999
A Respected Figure Under Suspicion
The discovery immediately raised disturbing questions—especially about Dr. Harold Breppa, Ashley’s family physician since childhood.
Dr. Breppa was one of Riverside’s most respected citizens. He ran a successful medical clinic, donated to local charities, and served on the municipal council. He had even helped organize search efforts when Ashley disappeared.
Detective Marcus Rodríguez, assigned to reopen the case, moved quickly. A search of the clinic led investigators to the basement—specifically Room B7.
There, hidden behind shelves and layers of paint, faint letters were discovered on the wall:
“HELP.”
A Chilling Pattern
As the investigation deepened, troubling patterns emerged.
A former clinic nurse revealed that Ashley had undergone unusually extensive blood tests shortly before her disappearance—and that Dr. Breppa insisted on seeing her alone, something uncommon for routine appointments.
Ashley’s family and friends recalled that, in her final days, she complained of anxiety and unexplained pain—completely out of character for her.
When Detective Rodríguez reviewed old medical records, the case took a darker turn. Between 1997 and 2008, at least five young women, all patients of Dr. Breppa and between the ages of 18 and 21, disappeared shortly after similar medical visits. Their cases had previously been dismissed as runaways or isolated incidents.
Even retired detective Warren Hayes, who originally worked on Ashley’s case, admitted he had once harbored suspicions—but lacked proof.
Security guards later testified that they had seen Dr. Breppa entering the clinic late at night, long after closing hours. Others reported strange noises coming from the basement.
Ashley’s Voice After Sixteen Years
For Rebecca and the Crawford family, the buried container was more than evidence—it was Ashley’s voice, breaking through sixteen years of silence.
Though the case remains officially unresolved, the discovery shattered the image of a trusted community figure and exposed how easily appearances can deceive.
The question still haunts Riverside:
What did Ashley know—and why was she never meant to survive long enough to tell it?