“I’ve dealt with addicts before. My ex-boyfriend was an alcoholic. I couldn’t take it anymore—the on and off the wagon. And he was a mean drunk, so I cut him loose. I had to for my sanity. When he was on the wagon, he was the nicest guy on the planet. But he couldn’t stop. My grandpa? He knew he couldn’t handle his booze, never drank. Gambling is like alcohol. Some people can overcome their addiction and stay clean, others can’t. Grant may have been clean for a while, but if he was around the lifestyle staying clean might have been impossible. Just one bet. One more bet. Just another … yeah, slippery slope.”

Jennifer got out of her truck. She looked at her phone, and said, “Randolph is in Three A, one of the luxury town houses. I sure can’t afford to live here.”

They looked at a map of the complex, located Melissa Randolph’s unit, and walked to the correct building.

They knocked. A moment later a woman came to the door.

Jennifer said, “Is Melissa Randolph available?”

“I’m sorry, she isn’t here.”

Jennifer showed her badge and identified herself. “When will she be back?”

“In a year or so.”

“A year?”

“She was transferred to Chicago. I’m leasing the place and taking care of her cats.”

“When did she leave?”

“In September—like around the fifteenth? Whatever the weekend around the fifteenth was.”

Jennifer glanced at Lucy. Lucy knew she was thinking about the timeline. Melissa had been interviewed about Clemson two days after Victoria’s murder, and only days later she’s gone. Clearly, she hadn’t said anything to Jennifer about it.

“Your name?”

“Diane Resnick.”

“Do you have some ID?”

“Is this necessary?”

“I expected Ms. Randolph to be here for follow-up questions as she’s a witness in a criminal case, but she’s not, so I need to make sure that you are who you say you are.”

“Oh. Yeah. One sec.” She closed the door and a minute later came back with her ID and a copy of her lease agreement. Lucy scanned it. It was simple and straightforward. Lucy took a picture of the signatory page just to confirm Randolph’s signature if they needed to.

“Where do you work?” Jennifer asked.

“I’m a receptionist for a law firm.”

“Which firm?”

“Um, Hollinger, Corben, Fuetes, and Parker.”

“And Ms. Randolph?”

“Um, the same?”

“Is that a question because you don’t know?”

“She works for Hollinger, too, as a paralegal. Mr. Hollinger and Mr. Corben are based in Chicago. Mr. Fuetes and Ms. Parker are in San Antonio.”

“Was this planned?” Jennifer asked. Lucy let her take charge because it was clear that Jennifer felt like she’d been played and if that was the case she would dig in.

“I don’t know what you mean.”