“I’ll need a list of the people you’ve seen there,” Sheriff Schuster said sharply. She was aching to return to the crime scene, her face turning often to the woods.

I’d already begun to go back to my car. I didn’t like being hushed with that chopping hand, it wasn’t like I chattered. And I didn’t like being ordered.

“I never saw anyone there,” I said, my back to the sheriff.

“You… in the years you cleaned her apartment, you never saw anyone else there?” Marta Schuster’s tone let me know she was well aware of Deedra’s reputation.

“Her stepfather was there one morning when Deedra was having car trouble.”

“And that’s all?” Marta Schuster asked, openly disbelieving.

“That’s all.” Marlon, of course, had been creeping out of there three or four days ago, but she knew about him already and it didn’t seem the time to bring that up again.

“That’s a little surprising.”

I half-turned, shrugging. “You through with me?”

“No. I want you to meet me at the apartment in about two hours. Since you’re familiar with Deedra’s belongings, you can tell us if anything’s missing or not. It would be better if Mrs. Knopp didn’t have to do it, I’m sure you agree.”

I felt trapped. There was nothing I could say besides, “I’ll be there.”

My involvement in the troubled life of Deedra Dean was not yet over.

Chapter Two

Camille Emerson would hate me later for not telling her my little news item, but I just didn’t want to talk about Deedra’s death. Camille was on her way out, anyway, a list clutched in her plump hand.

“I remembered to put the clean sheets out this time,” she said with a touch of pride.