Free Murder Mountain by Stacy Dittrich

bedroom, not one of an alleged drug user mixed up with “bad guys.” I saw a lot of photographs of Lizzie and some of her friends hanging on one wall. Looking at these, I could see that Lizzie was a very pretty girl. I also noticed her high-school diploma hanging on the wall, and college textbooks sitting on her desk.
    I wondered how in the world this girl got involved with the people that she did. It didn’t make sense. She goes to college. Her friends look decent. So, how and where would she meet the people she got involved with? Nothing was adding up and it was starting to frustrate me. There was nothing in Lizzie’s room of any significance, so I walked back into the living room where Larry was.
    “What is Lizzie taking in college?” I asked him.
    Lizzie had enrolled in college to be a nurse, but, of course, had started falling behind in her classes the last six months. She would have graduated in less than a year if she’d stuck with it.
    “Tell me about your daughter, Mr. Johnston: what kind of a girl she is, things she likes to do, anything you can think of.”
    For the first time I saw Larry smile. “She’s a wonderful daughter. Like they say, the apple of my eye, y’know? She never caused me a lick of grief growing up, until now.” His smile faded.
    “Her mother died of cancer when she was only two-years old, so it was just us. She always got good grades, played sports, and always had nice friends until these last six months. I don’t know what got into her. I mean, I hate to imagine, but the girl living in this house the last six months wasn’t my Lizzie. She disappeared long before June,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears. “I don’t know who these people are, but they changed her. Her personality changed. She didn’t care about the way she dressed. And she got quiet; quit talking to me. Detective Gallagher, I only want one of two things right now. If Lizzie is alive and doesn’t want to see me for whatever reason, fine, as long as she’s okay. The other,” his voice quivering, “is that if she is, if she is dead, I pray to God that my baby didn’t suffer. If she did, I really don’t think I could bear it.” At this point, he completely broke down into tears.
    I felt my own eyes welling up as I got a tissue out of my purse and handed it to him. “Mr. Johnston,” I said, putting my hand on his arm, “I’ll find out what happened to your daughter. I promise you that.”
    I let Larry cry for a few minutes and stood there while he got himself back together.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “That happens to me more and more every day.”
    “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I assured him. Then I paused before saying what had to be said. “Listen, Mr. Johnston, if you think you’re able, I only have a few more questions before I leave.”
    “Of course, at least I feel like I’m doing something. Sitting here staring at the wall every day is hard.”
    “I can only imagine. Mr. Johnston, did Lizzie ever mention anyone by the name of ‘Bob’ to you?”
    “No. I told you. When things changed, Lizzie quit talking to me about her personal life. I’ll tell you one thing; she was getting phone calls from a guy. I didn’t recognize his voice and he wouldn’t give his name. It was definitely the same guy, though. He called a lot. Whenever I asked Lizzie who it was, she always said it was just a friend, but she usually left the house after talking to him.”
    I wanted to know about the last night he saw Lizzie, about what the circumstances were when she disappeared. I had read it all in the report, but wanted to hear it from Larry. He said she was back in her room, had been for hours. He tried to get her to eat something and she wouldn’t, and when he tried to talk to her, she just shut her eyes and ignored him. The phone rang shortly after, Lizzie answering it in her bedroom. She came out about fifteen minutes after that and said she was going to