...Attached are the photos of Mr. Hill entering and exiting the apartment of one Cherie Goldstein on April 8th, after telling his wife he would be leaving Gotham to conduct business in Metropolis. Evidently, life as a wealthy salesman and family man wasn't enough to keep him satisfied, though if either of his children were as stubborn and ungrateful as mine is-

Edward stopped typing up his report when he saw what he'd written, then deleted the document with a frustrated groan. That was the fourth time he'd attempted to write this damn thing and the fourth one he'd had to scrap because he'd written something choice about Ellen. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. Why was it, whenever he felt like he'd turned a corner with her, Ellen would do something foolish like this? Didn't it occur to her that she wouldn't have the nicer clothes she had or the college fund he was setting up for her without his working on cases? Pardon him if he couldn't drop everything he had on his plate just to run after some teenager he'd never met! He opened his drawer and pulled out the notebook he'd scribbled on earlier that day. He'd read over it twice since Ellen had stormed out of his office, but neither time had shed any new light for him. Ellen's friend left her apartment to get away from a family dispute and simply went off the grid for a bit. That's all it was. Edward would give Ellen the night to cool down, and then in the morning, he'd call her and get an apology for her horrid behavior. And if by some slim chance the friend still hadn't returned, then Edward would look into it. He put the notebook down on his desk and rubbed his eyes. What time was it now? Edward checked his watch. 12:40. He wouldn't get any further work done tonight. He saved his progress on his case file, then opened his internet browser to look at some news articles that had caught his eye earlier. Mayor Sharp, in addition to cracking down on costumed criminals and the vigilantes who fought them, had been on a beautification campaign. An even grander memorial ceremony at the end of May, new additions in City Hall to be completed by the end of the year...Edward yawned and clicked on another link. A robbery of a chemical plant. Standard Friday night in Gotham. Probably Ivy's doing. He clicked another link. A serial killer going around cutting off pieces of his victims' faces? Now that was interesting. Before he could read the article in depth, he heard his cell phone ring. Who on Earth could that be? He picked it up, thinking it might have been Ellen, only to smile when he recognized the number. "Edward Nigma, Private Investigator. You're up a bit late, aren't you Penelope?"

"Hello, Edward. I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Not at all," he answered, stretching out. After that nonsense with Ellen earlier, it would be nice to talk to someone more sensible. "What's going on?"

"Aaron called me a few minutes ago."

"After midnight? I hope you straightened him out."

"Be serious, Edward. He's at GCPD. He told me an orderly from Arkham Asylum walked in about twenty minutes ago and confessed to killing Victor Goodman!"

Edward sat straight up in his chair, fully awake and alert now. "Well," he said. "Looks like Strange found someone willing to take the fall for Sharp. What else did Cash say?"

"Not much. Apparently, he refused a lawyer. He's sitting in an interrogation room now, demanding to be taken to Gotham County. Montoya's talking with him now, but Aaron says Sanchez-"

A chill went down Edward's spine. "Sanchez?" he repeated. "What's his first name?"

"Miguel, I think. Why? Do you know him?"

Edward barely registered the question as he looked back down at the notebook and the names he'd scribbled hours ago. '...family dispute...brother lied about workplace...brother's name is Miguel...' It couldn't be. What were the odds? In this town? What kind of question was that?

"Edward?" Penelope's voice asked again. "What is it?"

"Does he have a sister?" he asked.

"What?"

"Miguel Sanchez!" Edward half-yelled into the phone. "Does he have a sister!?"

"Don't raise your voice at me like that, Edward Nigma," Penelope scolded. "I never knew anyone by that name at Arkham, so I don't know what his background is. What's going on? What do you know?"

Edward ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said. "Ellen was by earlier today, she was going on about how a friend of hers was missing, she said that she thought she was kidnapped because of something her brother was involved in-"

"And you think that the man in GCPD now is the brother?"

"Ellen said that his name was Miguel, that her friend's last name is Sanchez. Does this sound like just a coincidence?" A hot prickling sensation suddenly went through Edward. If Ellen had been right all along about her friend being kidnapped, that meant Strange, or Bolton or someone connected to Arkham had targeted the girl, which meant they had tracked her and that Ellen may have had contact with them. Ellen was in danger too. "I have to go. I have to check on Ellen, I'll call you later." Edward hung up the phone before Penelope could reply and quickly dialed Ellen's home number. "Pick up," he muttered as the phone rang. "Pick up!"The answering machine picked up the message and Edward stifled a curse. "Ellen, it's me. Call me back. We need to talk about-" Edward paused. Either Ellen was a very sound sleeper, or she wasn't home.

It was after midnight. If she wasn't home, where was she?

Edward bolted out of his chair and ran out his front door, barely stopping to grab the coat on the coatrack before he slammed the door shut behind him.

"...So I went back over to her apartment to talk to her Mom, and I heard her brother talking to his boss. The boss told him to do what he said, and he'd get Marisol back! He said he'd be back at midnight for his answer." Batgirl nodded. She'd listened to Ellen's story patiently, unlike the Old Man, who had interrupted constantly. Ellen took a breath and continued, "So I went back home, put on my costume and grabbed some stuff, and I came back to her apartment at midnight to see if I could find out where he was holding her. I hid behind a dumpster and I heard him talking to some guys on the phone. He told them to meet him here, and that they'd make Marisol look like she OD'ed! I had to come out here!"

Batgirl looked thoughtful as she considered what Ellen had told her. "You came out here all by yourself? Why didn't you tell your Dad what you overheard at the apartment this afternoon?"

Ellen scoffed. "He didn't care when I told him before, he wouldn't care now. He would have told me to stay out of it."

Stephanie carefully thought about what she'd say to Enigma next. "I get wanting to help your friend, but you know this is really dangerous."

Enigma rolled her eyes and if Stephanie didn't believe she was Riddler's daughter before, she did now. It was eerie how much they looked alike. "No duh. I brought weapons, I can take care of myself."

"You brought a hammer and pepper spray."

"How did-"

"I saw you take down those guys a few blocks back."

Ellen blushed a bit. "You did?" she asked, hating how squeaky her voice got when she was embarrassed. She puffed out her chest a bit. "So you saw me take those guys out. I told you I could handle this."

Stephanie shook her head a bit. "You know that would have ended a lot differently if one of those guys had a gun, right?" She felt a bit bad at how the younger girl deflated. "Not to mention, you don't know what you're about to walk into here. There could be a lot of bad people here, they could be armed. I hate to agree with Edward Nigma on anything, but putting yourself in danger like this isn't going to help your friend. You should go home." God, she sounded like Bruce and Tim did when she was starting out as Spoiler. You either died a hero or you lived long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Ellen bit her lip to keep herself from yelling at Batgirl. "I'm not going anywhere. Marisol needs help. I can't just do nothing." Batgirl said nothing, but after a long moment, stepped forward and put her hand on Ellen's shoulder. Ellen blushed to the roots of her hair at the contact.

"You've already helped her," she said. Then she winked at Ellen. "You've got Batgirl on the case!"

Ellen's heart lifted up at the words. "You'll save her?"

"Of course," Stephanie said, giving her a thumbs up. "That's my job." Enigma's face broke out in a smile. "Hide here in the alley. I'll get in and have your friend out in no time-" The sound of an approaching car interrupted her. Stephanie turned and saw a red sports car approaching the building. Enigma reached out and gripped her arm tightly.

"That's his car," she whispered. "That's the guy's car-"

The car was just a few feet from the building. In a few moments, the headlights would reach their spot by the window. Stephanie grabbed hold of Enigma's hand. "Come on!" She pulled her deeper into the alleyway, out of the car and the driver's line of sight, then pressed her up against the side of the building. She put a finger in front of her lips. "Shh!"

Ellen's heart hammered in her chest, from the terror of almost being caught by the man and by being in such close proximity to Batgirl. If she reached up a bit, she could touch her long blonde hair. She heard the sound of a car door shut, then of footsteps approaching the front of the building and for a moment, she forgot to breathe.

"Anyone here?" she heard the man call out. Then she heard the front door open and shut. Batgirl moved away then, moving back towards the front of the building. She turned back towards Ellen with a serious look on her face. "Stay here. I'll be back." Then she rounded the corner and disappeared.

Ellen leaned back against the cool wall of the building and sighed. Batgirl was here. If anyone could save Marisol, she could. Couldn't she?

As soon as Stephanie had walked up to the front door, she pressed her communicator. "Oracle, it's me."

"Did you talk to the girl? What's going on?"

Stephanie sucked in a quick breath. "It's a real mess. She came out here because a friend of hers was kidnapped. From what I could tell, she's being held hostage because her brother witnessed a murder. We're at the place she's being held now."

"Oh, wow. So you're going to save the girl?"

"Naturally," Stephanie said, getting to work at picking the lock to the front door. "Enigma's hiding in the alley by the building now. As soon as I get her friend, we're getting out of here."

"Enigma?"

"That's what she's calling herself. I haven't gotten around to asking what her actual name is yet." After another minute, she heard the lock give way. "I'm in."

"Good. Bruce still can't get ahold of Nigma, so the quicker you get this done, the better."

"Got it. Batgirl out." Stephanie slowly opened the front door and stepped inside. Standard rescue. She'd be out of here in no time. She thought a bit about where Nigma was that Bruce couldn't get hold of him. Was whatever he was doing more important than his own daughter? She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.

Edward had been pounding on the front door to Ellen's apartment for a good five minutes. At first, he'd thought she was asleep. She had to be. She had to be here. When no answer came, he grabbed at the doorknob and turned it frantically. Locked. That was a good sign, it meant she had to be here, didn't it? Then why wasn't she answering? No one was that sound a sleeper! "Ellen!" he called out. "Open up!"

There was no response. Edward felt something close to panic now. "Ellen!" He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a lock pick he carried in case of an emergency. This qualified as such. He got to work picking the lock, reciting grade school riddles under his breath to keep the thoughts at bay. She's not here. Give me food and I live, give me drink and I die, what am I? Strange found out about her. Where does a 500-pound gorilla sit? Bolton has her. A boy and his father are in an accident. The surgeon takes one look at the boy and says I can't operate, he's my son. She's dead, she's dead, she's dead, just like Jon-What time is it when an elephant sits on your fence?

Edward heard the door unlock and he rushed inside, almost tripping on a rug in his haste to get in the apartment. The living room light was still on. "Ellen!" he called out. He ran from the living room, through the kitchen, down the hall, into each of the bedrooms, but there was no sign of anyone. She was gone. His daughter was gone. Edward staggered back into the living room, almost collapsing on the sofa. He took his head into his hands and fought the urge to vomit. What had he done? She'd said her friend was abducted. Why didn't he listen to her? Faintly, he felt his ring through his coat pocket. He pulled it out, hoping against hope it would be his daughter. "Yes?"

"Edward, what's happened? Did you find Ellen?"

Penelope. "No," he said. "She's not here. Strange has her-"

"Edward, calm down. You don't know that-"

"Don't tell me what I do or don't know, Penelope! She's not here, Strange already had one girl kidnapped, now he has my daughter!" Edward's mind began working into overdrive. He'd kill them. He'd burn Strange and Sharp to the ground for this. Riddle me this-

Penelope's voice cut through then, sharp and cold. "Edward. Breathe. Think this through. You know what kind of man Strange is. If he had any kind of leverage over you, do you think he'd keep it from you?"

Edward was about to snap back at her when he stopped to consider this. "No," he murmured. "No," he said again, and he felt his breath coming in slower. "He'd lord it over me. You're right. If he knew about Ellen, let alone took her, I'd know it." He shook his head. "That doesn't rule out Bolton though. Or explain why she isn't here."

"What does the apartment look like? Does it look like there was a struggle?"

"No," Edward said, getting up. Now that the panic had subsided, the rational part of his brain was taking over. "It looks normal. The lights in the living room and her bedroom were still on when I got in here." Then it occurred to Edward. "The front door was locked." If Ellen had been taken from the apartment, would her abductor have allowed her the time to lock the door behind her?

"So then she left voluntarily. Is it possible she left to try to find her friend on her own? From what I've observed, she seems impulsive enough to do so."

"She certainly is. I told you about the time she dressed up and threw a jar of pickles at a robber in a deli-" The proverbial pin dropped. She didn't. She wouldn't. "Oh, my God."

"What?"

Edward dashed back into Ellen's bedroom and took a careful glance around. Her top drawer was open, as was her closet. As if she had pulled out a change of clothes. On top of her drawer was a copy of the Gotham Gazette, dated from last August. He thumbed through the paper. On the fifth page, highlighted in yellow marker, was one article in particular. DELI ROBBERY FOILED BY MASKED VIGILANTE CLAIMING TO BE RIDDLER'S DAUGHTER. Edward's stomach dropped. "Oh, that stupid, stupid girl!"

"She put on the costume again, didn't she?"

"Of course she did! Because as if the amnesia wasn't enough, the universe or whatever Higher Power exists also decided to curse me with the most stubborn, reckless, impulsive, stupid child that's ever lived!" Edward threw the paper down on the drawer with a frustrated shout, almost knocking over a framed picture. Edward took a closer look at it. It was of Ellen as a younger child, about eight maybe, playing with a dark-haired, dark-skinned girl about the same age. Marisol, perhaps? Edward picked up the picture. Who was this girl that was so important to Ellen that she was willing to risk her life playing at superhero to rescue her? Edward sighed a bit, realizing not for the first time just how little he knew about his own child.

"Edward?" Penelope asked. Throughout this whole conversation, she'd kept her tone cool, almost professional. Now was the first time she conveyed a hint of concern. "What are you going to do? What do you need me to do?"

Edward walked out of the bedroom, taking the picture with him. "Go to GCPD and find out everything you can about what Sanchez is saying. I'm going to find my daughter before she gets herself killed."

"Alright. I'll call you when I find out anything. Edward? Good luck."

For the first time since he'd left his apartment, Edward smiled. "Thank you." He disconnected the call and walked out of the apartment, shutting the door behind him. First thing's first, he needed to tune into the police scanner to monitor any potential sightings of Ellen in costume. Then he'd call Selina and Oswald and ask them to keep an eye and ear out. Then he needed to get back to his apartment and find out everything he could about the Sanchez family. As soon as he tracked down an address, Ellen would get her wish and he'd speak to the Sanchez parents.

One way or another, he'd find out exactly what was going on.

As he quickly made his way down the stairs, he heard his cell phone ring again. He looked down at the phone and saw a blocked number calling him. He scowled and silenced the phone. He didn't have time to deal with a crank right now.