Hello, I'm Edward October.

Over the years I've narrated more ghost stories, horror shows, and creepy pastas than I can count.

And yet, the crimes discussed on our true crime podcast managed to scare the shit out of me. This program is not

suitable for children or the faint of heart. If you are such a person go ahead and

switch off this podcast. Listen to something else.

Are you still with us?

Well, we've warned you. So, Hey, Kim, Kim, how you doing? I am pretty darn well and how about you? I'm doing all right. I am doing all right. I've got a episode that's a request and it's from Ireland and I don't think that we've ever covered anything from Ireland before.

Hmm, I don't know. Can't remember. Once again, I will probably mispronounce things and I've tried really hard to do my best so we

shall see are you ready? Yep I'm ready. All right. Let's imagine for a moment a warm summer night. A father and his only daughter stand on a beach in Bayport, Long Island, New York, looking out across the water at the glistening lights on Fire Island.

No one speaks. They just listen to the tide lapping eternally against the

sand and feel the salty breeze on their faces. These moments are a snippet of

an idyllic life full of promise and dreams of the future.

But change comes whether you want it to or not. Children become adults and break free,

and it happens with alarming speed.

It's doubtful that John McCarick understood at this moment

on the beach that someday all he would have left of his daughter

was photographs and memories.

Annie Bridget McCarick was born in March of 1967 on Long Island, New York.

She was the only child of John McCarick III, a former New York State Parks Police officer and his wife

Nancy a school secretary. Andy was described as a thoughtful child who was

trusting and outgoing. The friend she made in kindergarten remained her friends throughout her life.

Annie ran track, played basketball,

...