“Guess he’s always searching for a pretty face.”
“Shut it. Anyhow, he suggested we burn some calories together.”
“Subtle, isn’t he?”
“What a leech.”
“Did he ask for your number?”
“No, thank goodness.”
Chelsey popped another chip in her mouth.
“He didn’t even get your name?”
“Well…”
“Raven?” Chelsey asked, drawing out her friend’s name. “What did you tell him?”
“I didn’t give him my real name. I told him my name was…Gwen Stephani, with a ph.”
Chelsey laughed and choked on her food, almost tumbling out of her chair. It took a long time before she composed herself, and even then, her eyes glassed over with humor. Hitches of laughter kept leaping out of her chest.
“Tell me you didn’t.”
“I panicked, okay?”
“Gwen Stephani. That is, no doubt, the funniest fake name I’ve ever heard.”
“You’re quite the comedian, Chelsey.”
“Did he buy the name?”
“He seemed to. I’m supposed to call him so we can train together. And I told him I’d gone to Benson’s, inquiring about a membership.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Chelsey said, leaning back as she crossed her legs at the ankles. “If you work out at Benson’s, you can monitor Sadie’s boy toy. Who knows? Maybe he’ll ask the beautiful Gwen Stephani for a date.”
“Stop.”
“I can picture it now. He’ll be like, ‘hey baby, hey baby, hey.’ And you’ll tell him you’re up for a hella good time.”
“Enough with the jokes, or you and I are gonna tussle.”
“Ooooh, I’m so scared. I’m sorry, Raven. I’m just a girl.”
Raven tried to hold her death stare. But Chelsey’s smirk got the best of her, and she burst out laughing.
“I wonder how many years it will take before I live that down.”
“Tell me you’re retirement date, and I’ll give you an answer.”
Raven pushed the chair away from the desk, craving tea. As she stood, the face on the television pulled her eyes to the screen.
“Oh, my God.”
Chelsey followed Raven’s gaze.
“What’s wrong?”
“The blonde girl on the television. That’s the girl Damian flirted with at the gym.”
Chelsey snatched the remote and boosted the volume. The news anchor’s voice spoke as the woman’s photo covered the television. The phone number for the Kane Grove Police Department scrolled along the bottom.
“Twenty-four-year-old Ellie Fisher of Kane Grove has been missing since Tuesday evening around six o’clock. She was last seen at Benson’s Barbells gymnasium in Kane Grove. Anyone with information about Ms. Fisher is urged to call the Kane Grove Police Department at…”
“Show me your pictures again.” Chelsey said, lowering the volume as the reporter repeated the message. Her eyes kept darting to the television as Raven clicked through her computer files.
Raven loaded a photograph of Damian and the blonde girl beside the Smith Machine. Damian had slung a towel over his shoulder. He leaned over the girl, as if he wanted to kiss her. Drawing a square around the girl’s head, Raven zoomed in and pulled out the details.
“That’s her,” Raven said. “Ellie Fisher.”
Chelsey nodded, jotting down Fisher’s address.
“That’s a tad suspicious. Damian was all over Ellie at the gym, and she never made it home.”
“And Damian had ropes and duct tape in his trunk.”
“Why kidnap Ellie? What’s his motive?”
“It’s like you said. Some people want it all and are never satisfied. Or he’s a psycho. What do we do now? Should we call the sheriff’s department?”
“All we have on Damian is he spoke to Ellie Fisher at the gym. The contents of his trunk don’t prove he kidnapped Ellie Fisher.”
“Or that he murdered her.”
“I’ll phone the sheriff’s department and the Kane Grove PD to fill them in. Until then, we have Ellie Fisher’s address. I’ll find out what I can about this girl. Don’t let Damian Ramos out of your sight.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Thursday, July 16th
11:30 a.m.
The neighbors across the street were hosting a garage sale in front of a pale-blue Cape Cod when Thomas and Aguilar pulled their cruisers to the curb outside Kay Ramsey’s house. Another vehicle sat in the Ramsey’s driveway, and Thomas recognized it as Ambrose Jorgensen’s. The daughter opened the door before Thomas knocked.
“Let me guess. You have evidence on my father’s case.”
“Is your mother home?” Thomas asked.
“She’s napping in the guest room.” Ambrose wrung her hands together. “Mom can’t bring herself to sleep in her own bed. Not since…”
“We understand. Deputy Aguilar and I wish to speak to you about the events leading up to your father’s death Sunday night.”
“I’ll wake my mother. Come in, please.”
Ambrose held the door open. The downstairs looked military-clean, not a pillow out of place on the couch, the bills neatly stacked on a table beside the door. The house smelled of lemon cleaning spray. While Ambrose climbed the stairs, Aguilar nudged Thomas.
“You think Garrick Tillery had something to do with Lincoln Ramsey’s death?”
“He’s on my radar. Don’t mention his name unless they bring him up first. I don’t want them assuming their neighbor murdered Lincoln until we have evidence he’s involved.”
Muffled voices followed from upstairs. Then the squeak of bed springs before footfalls moved across the upper landing. Ambrose linked her elbow with Kay’s, the daughter nursing her mother down each stair. Aguilar glanced at Thomas. She’d noticed the same thing—Kay Ramsey had aged twenty years since Sunday night.
“Careful, Mom. Hold the rail.”
“I’ve got it. You don’t need to help.”
Kay’s eyes were red and sloughed, sliding down her face. Her hair appeared recently brushed. But her face still held a pink imprint from sleeping on the corner of her pillow.
“Good morning, deputies,” Kay said, standing at the bottom of the landing. She grasped the banister until she found her sea legs. “Did my daughter put ideas into your head again? The COPD killed my Lincoln. Nobody murdered him.”
“Come sit, Mom,” Ambrose said, leading her mother toward the sofa.
Kay pulled her elbow free.
“I can walk.” As she dropped into a recliner, she gestured at the couch. “Sit, deputies. May I get you anything to eat or drink?”
“No, ma’am,” Thomas said. “We’d like to ask you a few questions and have
