With that, Jamie, Griswold, and August went up the stairs to the ninth floor and tracked down the apartment right above Andrew’s. This was easy to find as one could hear the classical music blaring from it from down the hall.

            “Hmm. Mendelssohn” Griswold said to herself as they approached the door. Griswold knocked, but no one answered. After she knocked a few more times, getting progressively louder with each attempt, the music was finally turned off. A few seconds later, a little old lady in her mid-seventies answered. She was about August’s height, dressed in light brown pants and a sky-blue sweater, and had thick glasses and short white hair.

            “Can I help you, hon?” she asked sweetly.

            “Greetings, my dear!” said Griswold. “It appears that my acquaintances and I are in a bit of a predicament and we have reason to believe that you possess valuable information that may help us. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

            The woman shrugged. “Sure,” she said with a smile. “I don’t see why not. But please, do come in. I’ve been cleaning all day and I need to sit down.”

            She led Griswold, Jamie, and August into a studio apartment. They went to the far side of the room to the right of where the French doors led to the balcony. There, the three sat down on a couch in a living area across from a small kitchen. After the woman turned off her radio, she joined them and sat down in a recliner to the right of the couch. “So,” she said as she settled in, “what did you want to talk about?”

            “To begin,” said Griswold, “were in your apartment three weeks ago on a Thursday?”

            The woman thought for a few seconds before saying, “Yes. I believe I was.”

            “Alright,” replied Griswold. “Now, what were you doing at 10:30 that night?”

            “I was baking some cookies,” the woman said. “I usually have trouble sleeping and baking helps me relax. Sadly, it also has its drawbacks, as you can see.” She then gestured towards a part of her kitchen counter where several large plastic bags held about three dozen cookies apiece.

            “Wow,” Jamie replied.

            “Yes, I know,” the woman chuckled. “Fortunately, there are enough people in the world that are happy to take them off my hands, so it’s not too big of a problem.”

            “Anyway,” interrupted Griswold, “back to my questions. While you were baking, did you by any chance see anyone running by your building around that time?”

            “You know,” the woman said, “now that you mention it, I did see some people running by – ”

            “Hold on,” said Griswold. “‘Some people?’”

            “Yes. I saw one woman run through the parking lot before she disappeared near those churches across the street. Then I saw someone very tall who was wearing a black trench coat run by about a minute later. I thought it was very strange that two people would be out in that terrible storm.”

            “Interesting,” replied Griswold. “Very interesting.”

            “Can I interrupt?” asked Jamie. “‘Cause I have a question, too.”

            “Sure thing, hon,” the woman said.

            “Why did you not report this to the cops?” asked Jamie.

            The woman scrunched up her face in confusion. “Was there any reason I should have?” she asked.

            “Well,” said Jamie, “one of those women you saw has gone missing and the cops have been trying to find her for weeks. Since other people in your building saw her and reported what they saw, why didn’t you? That info about the second person might crack the case.”

            “Well, that doesn’t make sense,” the woman muttered to herself. “I know I don’t read or watch the news much, but I should have heard something about this from my neighbors. Why did I not hear about this?” She then paused for a moment before saying, “Just curious, but when did the police start asking for information?”

            “As soon as I reported she was missing,” interjected August. “They started getting it the Monday after she disappeared and it stopped coming in the next day.”

            The woman’s eyes grew wide and her mouth hung open slightly. “I know what must have happened,” she said in an epiphanic tone. “I must have missed hearing about the search when I was out of town. I drove over to Canton to visit my sister the day after I saw those two running, and I came back about a week later.”

            “And none of your neighbors bothered to tell you!” finished Griswold.

            “Exactly!” the woman said.

            “Absolutely fascinating!” exclaimed Griswold. “It’s incredible to think that a few small decisions can obfuscate so much!” She trailed off and went deep into thought for a few moments before she nodded to herself and said, “I believe that about answers all of my questions for now.” She stuck out her hand to the woman and said, “Thank you very much for your assistance Miss…I’m sorry. I don’t believe we ever got your name!”

            “Elizabeth Rousseau,” the woman responded as she shook Griswold’s hand.

            “Well, Madam Rousseau,” said Griswold with a smile, “let me just state that you have proven yourself invaluable to this case and, for that, I again thank you.”

            “Absolutely,” Elizabeth said as she smiled in return. “Also, to help you more, I’ll be sure to let the police know what I saw that night.”

            “That would be fantastic!” said Griswold. “Just please don’t mention that we were here. My current relationship with the police is…let’s say…tenuous at best.”

            “Um, okay?” Elizabeth replied with a slight air of confusion.

             They all stood up and Elizabeth began to show them to the door before she turned and said, “By the way, before you go, I have to ask you something.” She then walked over to the counter in her kitchen, grabbed two Ziploc bags of homemade cookies, and returned to the three at the door. “Care for some cookies for the road? It’s the least I can do to thank you for your hard work. Besides,” she whispered in a joking manner, “I have to find a way to get rid of these somehow.”

             Griswold froze. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, Jamie said, “Sure! We’ll take ‘em.”

             Jamie took the bags as Griswold stared at her in frosty silence. Elizabeth opened the door and the three, having said their goodbyes, exited the apartment.

            “C’mon, really?” asked Griswold in a somewhat joking manner as they walked back to the car.

            “Uh…did I do something?” Jamie asked with confused smile.

            “I was trying to not have to take the cookies,” Griswold replied.

            “Why?” asked Jamie.

            “Well, considering that we don’t know the sanitation standards of Chez Rousseau,” replied Griswold, “who in in their right mind WOULD take them?”

            “Apparently, I would,” said Jamie in a sarcastic tone. “I mean, they’re free cookies. I’m not gonna say no to free cookies.”

            “Yes, but I don’t want to contract a foodborne illness from possibly contaminated foodstuffs!” said Griswold.

            “Who asked you to eat them? I mean, I just got these for myself. Although if you really want some, you’re free to have a few,” Jamie said with a smirk.

            Griswold went silent and blinked a few times, trying to take in what just happened. “You know, my dear?” she said with a snort that suggested a combination of incredulity, begrudging respect, and amusement. “Touché. You make a fine point,” she said with a flourish. “However, don’t come complaining to me if you end up puking your guts out late into the night.”

           “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jamie replied with a satisfied grin.

           They left the building and got in the car. Jamie started Cheryl up, then turned to Griswold and asked, “Any ideas where we should head next?”

           “Dinner,” replied Griswold. “Then we should get some rest. We’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

           Jamie shot Griswold a confused glance. “What for?” she asked.

           “Very simple, my dear,” said Griswold. “Though it is too late in the day to begin now – our general weariness from travel and work will, after all, hamper our search for anything of importance – it is high time that we actually investigate the location of Charlotte’s disappearance.”