A prayer that Iris was safe and sound at her sister’s house echoed through her mind. That Minnie had had some kind of support and that her sister could lead them to someone who could fill them in on her mindset and whether she was actually suicidal, suffered from an addiction problem or had garnered enemies.
She veered into the parking lot for Mama T’s, an eclectic-looking restaurant with outdoor seating, a red and white awning, and a mural of two chefs tossing pizza dough on the front window. A gust of wind rattled the windows but as she and Cord entered, the decadent scent of garlic, basil and marina sauce filled the air.
They grabbed a booth, which would have felt intimate if she and Cord hadn’t been so tense. Mama T’s offered calzones, homemade spaghetti, chicken parm and original pies baked in a stone-fired oven. The pizzas came in several choices, along with build-your-own pizza as a feature.
“Pizza?” Ellie asked Cord.
He gave her a wry look. “Meat lovers, of course.”
Ellie laughed. They knew each other so well. “Add peppers and onions.”
“Garlic knots?” he asked.
“Would love them, but I don’t want to knock Minnie’s sister over with garlic breath.”
Cord chuckled. “Good point.” He waved the waitress over then ordered.
Fifteen minutes later, they dove into the thick meaty dish, the silence thickening with worry and anticipation of what lay ahead in their day.
Just as they finished eating and were paying, Deputy Landrum texted:
Beth Ann Benton lives in a condo in downtown Chattanooga. She’s twenty-three, a real estate agent, never been married and lives alone. Texting you the address.
Ellie responded:
Thanks, Landrum. Heading there now.
She wiped her mouth with a napkin, guzzled her water and pulled her keys. “I have her address.”
Cord checked a text on his phone. “Sorry, I can’t come with. Have a work call to answer. Lost child at Point Park.”
Ellie’s pulse jumped. “It could be Iris. Maybe I should come with you.”
Cord’s eyes darkened and he squeezed Ellie’s hand. “No, talk to Minnie’s sister. I’ll keep you updated.”
Cord was right. They could cover more ground if they divided and conquered. At the moment talking to Beth Ann was a priority.
SEVENTEEN
Walking Street Condos
Late-afternoon sunlight shimmered off the contemporary buildingas Ellie parked at the visitors’ parking lot across the street from Walking Street Condos. She could easily see why the complex had been named as such because you were in close proximity to the downtown restaurants, the riverwalk, accessibility to the Riverboat Cruises, park, wine and art festivals, outdoor concerts and other popular activities.
The contrast of white brick, black trim and wrought-iron balconies overlooking downtown was striking. Street traffic noises mingling with people rushing to tourist sites meant more hustle and bustle than the small-town countryside Ellie was accustomed to.
She much preferred the mountains and Appalachian Trail over the crowds, noise and bright lights. But Chattanooga definitely had its charm.
She found Beth Ann Benton’s condo, an end unit, and climbed the steps leading to her front door then rang the doorbell. It chimed three times before a young woman answered the door. She wore athletic leggings and an orange University ofTennessee T-shirt. Her honey-blond hair was shoulder length, her eyes the same shade as Minnie’s, the only resemblance Ellie could see between the sisters. Tall and busty, her pale skin was dotted with freckles that probably multiplied in the sunlight.
“Beth Ann Benton?” Ellie asked as she flashed her credentials.
“Yes, I’m Beth Ann.”
“Detective Ellie Reeves. I’m sorry to bother you but it’s important we talk.” She offered a gentle smile. “Is it all right if I come inside?”
“Sure.” Beth Ann’s eyes narrowed as she peered at the badge then back at Ellie. “Is something wrong, Detective?”
Ellie rubbed her arms to ward off the chill from the wind outside, then followed Beth Ann into her open-concept living room-kitchen. The interior was bright and cheery and just as contemporary as the exterior of the building. They took seats at the breakfast island, tension stretching through the air. “Have you spoken to your parents today?”
