“That I checked it for fingerprints? No. This is just between you and me.”

“Go ahead then,” she replied, opening the back door. “But don’t ask me any more questions. I can’t talk about it.”

She stepped inside and let the door fall shut behind her as I turned and walked back to the cabana.

Nine

I tried the doorknob on the cabana, surprised to see that Sidra had left it unlocked despite the act of vandalism that had so terrified her just moments before. I went straight for the kitchen where I dug around until I found an empty grocery bag. Then I went to the photo and knife on the floor and carefully slid the whole thing into the bag. That done, I went to the window and peeked out, glad to see that Sidra wasn’t yet on her way back from the house.

Because Sidra was Wendell’s nurse and thus a prime suspect, I decided to do a quick search of the apartment. I headed down a short hall, going first into the bathroom, which was perfectly neat and clean. A quick scan of the medicine cabinet revealed a large supply of prescription drugs, most of them tranquilizers, sleeping pills, and antidepressants. Carefully, I removed a wide pink comb from the bottom shelf, hoping it would have some clear prints of Sidra’s for comparison.

I went into the first bedroom, which obviously belonged to the boy. On the twin bed was a racing car bedspread, and posters of soccer players adorned the walls. I didn’t bother to search, though I did grab a plastic dinosaur by the tip of its tail from the dresser, again for fingerprint confirmation.

The two bedrooms across the hall were empty, though one of them held some cardboard boxes. I peeked inside a few, noting that one of them held a number of medical books, mostly about kidney disease, dialysis, or transplants. Glancing at my watch, I left the books there and headed for Sidra’s bedroom. Heart pounding, I rifled through her closet and her drawers, knowing she could return any moment. There wasn’t much to find, just some old family photos in one drawer and a pile of what looked like love letters in another. The letters were tied together with a purple satin ribbon, and on impulse, I grabbed the whole pack of them.

Knowing I was out of time, I headed back to the living room and slipped the comb, the toy dinosaur, and the pack of letters into the bag. Then I carefully folded down the top, picked up the bag, and headed out of the door, passing Sidra as we met near the pool.

“You got the knife?” she asked, looking oddly at the bag I carried.

“I took the picture, too,” I said. “You never know.”

“Okay.”

She headed on, her mind obviously occupied with other things.

“Is your son alright?” I asked, calling after her.