“That won’t be confirmed until the autopsy’s done, but I think we can safely say yes.” Val gestured to the victim’s boyfriend. “Did he mention any other drugs she was taking?”

“He’s not sure what she had today. He went out to shoot pool with a friend and when he returned, he found her dead. He says she wasn’t an addict. Her pain pills were for a bad back.”

“Not an addict, my ass.” Val picked up two of the empty pill containers and read the date the prescriptions were filled. “Both of these were picked up just days ago. There should have been enough pills in each of these bottles to last for a couple of weeks not a couple of days. Did you find any other drugs in the house? Anything you would use a needle with?” Val asked, hoping the cops had found something she hadn’t.

“Nope.”

She pointed to the injection hole. “There has to be something more.”

The officer just shrugged and nodded towards the boyfriend. “These people know how to get rid of the right things when the cops show up. Prescription meds won’t get him into trouble: they’re legit. That’s why the bottles are all still here. But heroin would. Those drugs are usually missing along with the needles. We see it all the time.”

Val couldn’t help but feel she was missing something. “If it’s okay I’m going to take one more look around,” she said. “I’ll be able to mention that I did so in my report.”

“Be my guest.”

In the bedroom, Val noticed two of the dresser drawers were slightly open and eyed them suspiciously. She opened each, quickly glancing through, moving clothing out of the way; feeling around, searching for any drugs. The first drawer had nothing but underwear and socks. The next, jeans and T-shirts. In the bottom drawer her hand hit something hard. Her fingers traced the rectangular outline. She pushed pajamas out of the way to see what the object was and noticed the vinyl cover. It was just a photo album. Val pulled it out anyway and flipped through the pages, making sure nothing was hidden in there, like the drugs she was searching for. She had heard how people cut out sections from books to hide objects. Why not use a photo album to stash some heroin.

This one was intact. The photos were old and appeared to be from the 1980s, probably from the victim’s childhood. She shut the drawers, confident that if there were any drugs in the house, they were long gone by now. As she stepped out of the bedroom Val stopped and stared, shocked. Detective Gavin was standing right in front of her.