Fisher missing persons investigation. Fisher’s roommate had reported the girl missing. No one had seen Fisher since she left a gymnasium in Kane Grove Tuesday night.

“Never a dull moment,” Thomas said, climbing into his cruiser. “Find out what you can about this argument at the First National bank. I’ll check out Fisher’s apartment and meet you back at the station.”

He cranked the engine. Two people dead, and a girl missing. Was the Ellie Fisher disappearance related to the Cecilia Bond and Lincoln Ramsey cases?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Thursday, July 16th

12:20 p.m.

 

Chelsey parked her green Honda Civic outside Ellie Fisher’s apartment. The brick, two-story complex resided inside the village center, an easy walk from shopping and restaurants. Though the apartments appeared tiny from the outside, each featured a walk-out balcony, pre-finished silver hardwood flooring, and white walls embellished with black-and-white photography of Wolf Lake. The complex catered to young, upwardly mobile professionals, fresh out of college and eager to save money while hanging on to a modicum of luxury.

She checked her notes before climbing out of the car. Ellie Fisher’s roommate was Lizzie Todd, a twenty-three-year-old, self-employed interior designer with an art degree from the Rhode Island School of Design. Chelsey waited for traffic, then crossed the road and climbed the concrete steps. A locked door barred entry unless someone let her inside. Running her finger over the buzzers, she located the second-floor apartment for Fisher and Todd and pressed the button. After receiving no response, she pressed it again, wondering if the buzzer was out of order.

“Who is it?”

The annoyed voice booming from the speaker caught Chelsey by surprise.

“Ms. Todd?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Chelsey Byrd. I’m investigating Ellie Fisher’s disappearance and would like to ask you a few questions.”

Todd waited several beats before unlocking the door. Chelsey stepped into the entryway and found the stairs. Fisher and Todd lived on the second floor in apartment seven. A Middle Eastern girl carrying a backpack passed her in the hall as Chelsey scanned the numbers. Lizzie Todd answered on the first knock, as though she’d waited beside the door. She kept the chain hooked and studied Chelsey through the thin opening.

“Show me identification.”

Chelsey removed the driver’s license from her wallet.

“That’s not a police badge.”

“Because I’m not a cop.” Lizzie pressed the door closed, but Chelsey blocked it with her foot. “Please, I’m a private investigator.”

She handed Lizzie a business card for Wolf Lake Consulting. The girl divided her glare between the card and Chelsey.

“All right,” Lizzie said, removing the chain.

The apartment interior appeared immaculate despite its microscopic dimensions. A potted palm sprouted in the living room, and the glass tables made the inside appear more spacious than it was.

“When is the last time you spoke to Ellie?”

Lizzie, barefoot in sweatpants and a yellow t-shirt with Providence written across the front, slid her hands into her pocket and leaned against the kitchen granite. Green eyes and a button nose highlighted the girl’s face. Sandy hair perched atop her head in a bun.

“Tuesday morning before we left for work. We were supposed to go to dinner Wednesday evening.”

“Did Lizzie complain of a guy following her?”

“No. Should she have?”

Chelsey removed her phone and called up an image of Damian Ramos talking with Ellie Fisher at the gym.

“Do you recognize the man in the photograph?”

Lizzie shook her head.

“I’ve never seen him before.”

“He seemed interested in Ellie.”

“Trust me. She wasn’t interested in him.” She tugged on the refrigerator door and slid the coconut milk aside. “I made a green smoothie. You want half before it goes to waste?”

The smoothie looked like someone blended a frog.

“Um, sure,” Chelsey said, not wanting to be rude. “What’s in it?”

“Lots of stuff. Kale, beet greens, collard greens, swiss chard.” When Chelsey screwed up her face, Lizzie added, “Plus one banana and mixed berries.”

As she poured the concoction into a glass, Chelsey glanced out the kitchen window. She could see all of downtown, the shopping district laid out in neat rectangles. The lake shimmered in the distance.

“You claim Ellie wasn’t interested in the man in the picture. How can you be sure?”

Lizzie cocked an eyebrow.

“You don’t know?”

“What am I missing?”

“Ellie and I aren’t just roommates, Ms. Byrd. We’re dating.”

Lizzie handed Chelsey the glass. Chelsey brought the smoothie to her lips, tempted to plug her nose before she took a sip. Cold, but tastier than she’d expected.

“It’s good.”

“You like?”

“I do. So Ellie is a…”

“Lesbian, yes. It’s okay, Ms. Byrd. It’s not a four-letter word.” Lizzie sighed. “But she’s also a flirt. And Ellie will bat her eyelashes at anyone—man, woman, it doesn’t matter.”

“Does the flirting ever lead to more?”

“Not Ellie. She’s a show off at heart. But she’s loyal, and that’s why I don’t mind.” Lizzie tilted Chelsey’s phone and took another look at the photo. “He’s a hunk, if you’re into that sort of thing. I suppose if I was attracted to guys, I might be interested. Who is he?”

Chelsey wasn’t sure she should give Lizzie Damian’s name. Lizzie played it cool now. But what if she went after Damian?

“His name is Damian Ramos. He works out with Ellie at Benson’s Barbells in Kane Grove.”

Lizzie scoffed.

“That meat market? Not surprised she met a guy like that at Benson’s. What’s your interest in this Damian Ramos guy?”

She couldn’t tell Lizzie about Sadie Moreno.

“His name came up in another case. We’re monitoring him.”

“Is he dangerous?”

Chelsey hesitated. Yes, she trusted Raven’s opinion and believed Damian was dangerous.

“He’s a market analyst.”

“That doesn’t sound dangerous, unless he loses your money.”

Chelsey sipped her drink and set the glass on the counter.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. But you don’t seem concerned your girlfriend is missing.”

“Ellie is the type to take off without telling you. Last autumn, she called out sick and drove to Vermont to sightsee and enjoy the autumn colors. I didn’t know she’d left town until she checked into her hotel room and called. She’s in Cape May or Virginia Beach, lying in the sun.”

“So she disappears frequently?”

Lizzie shrugged.

“She had a rough childhood. Her mother walked out on

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