Page 85 of Little Hidden Fears

I had no doubt.

“Before I say anything more, I’d like for us to make a deal,” I said.

“What kind of deal?”

“If I tell you why I believe Dawn is missing and why she’s in danger, will you give me fifteen minutes inside her apartment? No one has to know you let me in. It will stay between us. You have my word.”

She tapped a shoe to the pavement, mulling over my offer. “Your word means nothing. I don’t even know ya. On a scale of one to ten, just how juicy are we talking?”

I shot her a wink. “Ten juicy.”

“If it’s a ten, you get ten minutes inside her place, and I’ll be coming with you, to supervise, make sure everything’s above board.” Thumbing at Giovanni, she said, “Just you, though. Not him.”

“You have yourself a deal.”

Ramona glanced around, making sure we were alone, and then she leaned in close. “Go on, then ... this better be good.”

“Right before Dawn disappeared, she checked into the women’s center that Noelle Winters founded. She’d been badly beaten. Noelle convinced her to see a doctor. Not long after, Dawn left the center, and she hasn’t been seen since.”

Shaking her head, Ramona said, “Why didn’t you tell me this in the first place?”

“Oh, I’m not finished. You wanted a ten juicy, and here it is ... during the doctor’s assessment, he discovered something about Dawn.”

“Something like ...?”

“Dawn is pregnant.”

CHAPTER 34

Dawn’s apartment was in disarray when we entered, and not in a ransacked kind of way. It was clear Dawn was a messy person. There were fast-food wrappers on the sofa, empty soda cans on the coffee table, which had a broken leg that had been duct-taped to keep it in place. The apartment didn’t appear to have been dusted or vacuumed in ages. Given its messy state, I was shocked as I entered the kitchen. It was pristine.

Turning toward Ramona, I said, “I don’t get it. How could her entire place be a cluttered mess and the kitchen be tidy? It’s like two different types of people live here.”

Ramona offered me a sheepish grin. “Oh, well, you see ... I did a look-see through the kitchen window after Dawn had been gone for a week. There were a bunch of dishes piled up in the sink. None of them had been rinsed off, and food was stuck to them. Food that was ... well, starting to have bacterial growth, if you know what I mean. I was sure the place stunk to high heaven, and given the residents on the first floor all use the same hallway, I started to worry they’d notice.”

“Did you clean Dawn’s kitchen?”

“Between us, I sure did.”

She pointed to a note beneath a dog magnet on the refrigerator door.

It read:

Hello, Dawn,

I was doing a routine inspection and noticed your dishes needed to be done. I hope you don’t mind, but as you have been away for some time now, I thought it best to wash them for you. We wouldn’t want the other residents to complain now, would we?

Your friend,

Ramona Olson

Apartment Manager, but you know that already

P.S. Stop by the office for a chat any time.

As much as Ramona labeled herself as one of Dawn’s friends, I was of the notion that Ramonawishedto be Dawn’s friend, but in all likelihood, she wasn’t even an acquaintance. I felt for her. She struck me as the type of woman who was often misunderstood—much because of her strong, quirky personality.

For the next several minutes I searched through kitchen drawers and cabinets, moved things around, looking for clues, finding none. In the bedroom, I found Dawn’s suitcases, just like Austin had, but upon closer inspection of her open dresser drawers, they were sparse, like things were missing. Perhaps Dawn had returned home for a short time, loading several things into a duffel bag before she took off.

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