"I can understand that theory," I said. "You never know who or what you're going to run into. Here's the thing, though. I pick up the tab for everything. It seems that my relative started this, so it should be up to me to pay for the investigation."

"We split it," said Sabrina. "We'll take turns paying for things. My family was involved too. We just don't know to what extent. Besides, depending how this goes, I might be able to turn it into a book. So I can claim it as research expenses."

So the money was settled. "Something we have to think about," I said, "are the people who killed Izzy. I know there are at least two because the person who broke into my car jumped into a car driven by someone else. Why? How do they figure into all of this?"

"Maybe Izzy employed them to help her find whatever aspect of this she was looking for. Maybe they turned on her."

"And how did Izzy get involved in the first place?" I asked. "Her involvement was fairly recent. What spurred her on?"

We had oodles of questions. An answer might be nice.

Sabrina's phone rang. Actually, her phone had rung a few times while I was there. Each time she looked at the caller ID and ignored it. After the third one, she apologized. "It's the publicity person from the publisher. He's really annoying. My new book is coming out just before Christmas and they are trying to line up the publicity campaign. I asked him to contact me by email, because I really hate the phone, but he doesn't seem to get it. Now that he's tried three times, he'll email me in frustration."

So when the phone rang a fourth time, she actually looked surprised, like it had blown her theory. But this time she picked up. "I think it's that detective I was talking to yesterday."

She listened without talking, then asked a couple of questions. From what I could gather, the call had something to do with Izzy's living situation before she died. She got a notepad from her briefcase and copied down some information, then said, "Thank you so much for all your help. Could you do me one more favor? Could you call them back and let them know that I'm on my way, and to keep the room rented? I'll settle the bill when I get there." She listened, then ended with, "Thank you detective. I appreciate it."

"Well, that was interesting," she said, turning to me. "It seems that Izzy was renting a room at a Residence Inn outside of Chicago. She was only paid up through yesterday, so they called her cell phone to find out what she was doing. Of course, it's in police custody, so they answered. The detective called the Chicago police, who inspected her room, but didn't find anything of significance. So he called me and asked me what I wanted the hotel to do with her stuff. I guess we're going to Fairfield by way of Chicago."