“According to Lisa Frick, Teresa asked her mother to be at the house that day, an afternoon that she wasn’t originally scheduled to work,” Reed reminded her. “But for Teresa’s intervention, Carol wouldn’t have been at the Stone house when the murderer arrived. Maybe Bobby holds her responsible.”
“Unless Carol led him there. Unless she was the target all along.”
“I’m betting Bobby doesn’t see it that way.”
They had pulled his driver’s license photo and it was, as Lisa Frick had indicated, a good match to the man seen on the CCTV footage the day Chloe disappeared, but it was not yet proof he’d taken her. After the last painful dead end at the Desmond house, Ellery held slim hope they could be close to a rescue. That remnant of hope popped like a soap bubble when they arrived at Bobby’s apartment building and she saw it was old but made of bricks with a solid concrete foundation. This wasn’t the location where Chloe was being held.
A frantic-looking woman Ellery gathered must be Lisa Frick stood outside the apartment building’s front door, clutching her cell phone. “Agent Markham, thank you for coming,” she said as they walked over to her. “I’ve been calling him all day since I saw that picture, but the phone goes right to voice mail. I’m praying I’m wrong about this.”
“We’ve checked and his phone is dead or turned off,” Reed replied. “He’s not taking anyone’s calls, not just yours.”
“Please. You have to help me find him.”
“We’re doing everything we can. This is his only known address?’
“For the past few years, yes. His place is on the third floor in the corner right there. Number Three-Oh-Two. I haven’t been inside since he moved in, because he usually comes to Boston to see me.”
Ellery tilted her head back to look at the darkened windows that Lisa had indicated. It was only nine thirty at night; most of the surrounding units still had lights on. “Do you have a key?”
“Yes.” She pulled it out and closed her fingers around it. “I’ve been afraid to go inside.”
“May I?” Reed held out his palm and she hesitated a moment before dropping the key in his hand.
“Bobby wouldn’t do anything to hurt that girl. Maybe he saw the kidnapper. Maybe he’s afraid and has been hiding out.”
“Then we’ll help him,” Reed said as they went inside. He hit the button for the elevator.
“Has he mentioned Chloe Lockhart at all to you?” Ellery asked.
“I was trying to think about that while I was waiting. I can only remember him mentioning her one time, the first time he found out about her. I’d just started school up here and Bobby came to visit. He was hanging around the city during the afternoon while I went to class, and when we met up afterward he said he’d seen Teresa. He said she had a new husband and a new daughter, like nothing had ever happened. Poof—she just started over.”
“Did he use those words exactly?” Reed wanted to know as they climbed into the elevator.
“Something close to that. I said I was happy for her. He said something like, ‘I can’t imagine being happy ever again, not after my kid got killed.’ Then we ordered takeout and didn’t talk about her anymore that I can remember. Bobby’s always had a temper, but I can’t believe he’d do anything to hurt that girl.”
“He’s hurt other people in the past,” Ellery said, thinking of his assault record.
“He—he’s been angry. Can you blame him? Our mom got killed and we ended up in foster care. No one ever found out who did it. Bobby took it hard. But after his last arrest, he got into counseling. He’s been taking medication. He’s doing better, I swear.”
The elevator stopped on the third floor and Ellery poked her head out to scan the hallway before letting the others out of the car. “It’s clear.”
Reed used the key to open the door to Bobby’s apartment. “Wait here,” he told Lisa.
Ellery entered first, her hand ready at her weapon. The place smelled like it had been baking in the summer sun for days, leaving hot dead air. She paused to listen, but the apartment was totally silent. “Bobby Frick? It’s the Boston Police.” She received no reply.
She felt along the wall with her left hand for a light switch, which she located and turned on. Reed and Lisa trailed behind her as she moved deeper into the apartment. It looked like a normal bachelor pad—inexpensive black leather sofa in front of a large-screen television. Big speakers. No plants or signs of anything alive. The kitchen was tidy, save for a single coffee mug sitting on the counter. Ellery glanced at the framed nature photographs on the wall, which depicted wet rocks up close so that their ridges and contrasting colors resembled abstract art.
“Bobby took those,” Lisa said. “His hobby is photography.”
“There’s a card here,” Reed called from the living area. He looked to Lisa. “It’s addressed to you.”
“That’s Bobby’s writing on it.” Lisa grabbed the envelope from the end table and tore it open. There was a white folded piece of paper inside that had been wrapped around an old photo. “This picture was taken at our house in Baltimore,” she said as Ellery came to look at it. It showed a boy and a girl, preschool age and dressed in finery, standing on some steps with a teenage girl behind them, one hand on each of their shoulders. A woman Ellery recognized as Carol Frick stood beside the steps. She wore a pink-colored skirt suit, a hat, and white gloves. “This was Easter Sunday in front of our old house. My dad took the picture. It was the last holiday before he died.”
Ellery took the photo from Lisa as she opened the accompanying note. Carol Frick smiled in the picture, but her eyes didn’t look to the cameraman. Instead, she seemed to be smiling beyond him, at someone or something far away.
Lisa read the note aloud: “‘Dear Lisa, Do you remember Dad making quacking noises to get us to smile for this picture? Hard to believe it could ever end up like this. You were always the best of all of us—smarter, kinder, able to leave the past where it belongs. Maybe finally I can do the same. Love forever, Bobby.’”
She looked up with shining eyes. “We need to find him.”
“We will.” Ellery nodded at her and moved to the bedroom at the back of the apartment. The door was closed and she felt her heartbeat speeding up at the prospect of opening it, despite the fact that she was nearly certain there was no one on the other side. Her hand flinched as she reached for the knob. “Mr. Frick?” she called again.
The door swung open and Ellery gasped aloud. He had photographs, all right—hundreds of them tacked to his wall, and they all appeared to show Chloe Lockhart. “Reed? You’re going to want to see this.”
He materialized immediately at her side in the doorway. “Wow.”
“What is it?” Behind them, Lisa hadn’t yet glimpsed her brother’s obsession. They parted so she could get a look. She gave a soft, horrified cry and her hands flew to her mouth. “No,” she said mournfully. “No, it can’t be true.”
Ellery stepped into the room to get a closer look at the pictures. “He’s been following her for weeks, if not months.” The photos showed Chloe in her yard with her dog, Snuffles. Outside her school, chatting with friends or leaning up against the fence, looking bored as she stared at her phone. Getting into the car with Margery, her nanny. Walking along the streets of Boston with Margery. He had followed her into the YMCA, too, because there were multiple shots on different days of Chloe laughing and talking to Ty. At one point, he caught them shooting hoops together. Teresa and Martin Lockhart appeared incidentally in the photos, too. The entire family had been photographed leaving church together.