Before he’d gotten out of the car, he’d slipped the small notebook from his bag into his pocket just in case something like this happened. He ripped out a sheet, and wrote a note asking whoever got it to give him a call regarding Elyse. He then stuck it in the crack between the door and the jamb, just above the knob.

As he started to leave, a guy stepped onto the walkway from the neighboring apartment where the TV was on. Tall and lean, and dressed in a pair of plaid shorts and a green T-shirt, Logan pegged him as another student.

When the guy saw Logan, he said, “Sorry, man. We’ll try to hold it down.” He looked back at his apartment. “Hey, turn the volume down!” The sound from the TV dipped.

“Play it as loud as you want. I don’t really care,” Logan told him.

The kid took a longer look at him. “Oh. Thought you were the guy from downstairs. Don’t think he likes us very much.”

Logan gestured down the walkway. “I was looking for your neighbors in number seventeen, but no one’s home. Do you know if they’re still in town, or have they all gone away for the break?”

The guy stepped back into the doorway of the apartment. “Angie, someone wants to talk to you.”

“Me?” a girl inside said.

“Yeah, you.” He looked back at Logan. “You want Angie, right?”

“Yes. Angie.”

A few seconds later a short, blonde girl wearing sweats and holding a bottle of beer, joined the guy in the doorway.

“I don’t know you,” she said.

“No, you don’t,” Logan replied. “I’m here about your roommate.”

“Which one?”

“Elyse Myat.” Tooney had said native Burmese didn’t have last names. So Elyse’s parents had decided to stick with the one Tooney had taken when he’d moved to the States. Logan could tell there’d been more to it than that, but that was all Tooney had said.

The girl hesitated for a moment, then her eyes narrowed. “What about Elyse?”