Returning to the commercial alumni sites, I plugged Elise Freeman's name into the U. of Maryland database. No such person. Pairing her name with maryland pulled up a five-year-old search for graduates of Blessed Heart College on Garrison Boulevard in Baltimore, the school wanting to get in touch for a centennial celebration.

What else had she lied about?

I clicked the reunion link. Elise Freeman appeared in the Where Are You? column. So did Sandra Freeman Stuehr, graduation date two years later.

Four forty p.m. made it past working hours in Baltimore so I tried the city's white pages. Over five hundred Freemans.

But only one Stuehr, a business address: Stuehr's Crab Cooker, E. Pratt Street.

The woman who answered put me on hold. A minute or so later, she returned, talking over restaurant clatter. "When do you want your reservation?"

"I'd like to speak to Sandra."

"Who?"

"Sandra Stuehr."

Two beats. "Hold on."

The silence lasted nearly three minutes before a man got on. No more clatter, maybe a private office. "This is Frank, what now?" Clipped diction, vocal cords that sounded as if they'd been dragged a few miles on a gravel road.

"I'm looking for Sandra. You're Mr. Stuehr?"

"Yeah, right."

"Pardon?"

"Another lawyer heard from. Christ, stop bugging me."

I told him who I was, played up the LAPD connection more than reality justified.

"Yeah, right, more cock and bull. Look, pal, I can't stop you from calling but trust me, next time you won't get through, just like those other guys."

"This is a homicide investigation, Mr. Stuehr. The victim's Elise Freeman. If she's not related to Sandra--"

"Elise? Someone killed her? You're kidding."

"I'm not, Mr. Stuehr."

Silence. "I haven't seen Elise in a long time. Not since the wedding."

"Which was?"

"I married Sandy nine years ago. Wish I could forget the date. Sandy and Elise aren't close, Elise showed up, drank herself silly, left early."

"Sandra is her sister."

"One and only."

"Could I talk to Sandra?"

"Be my guest, pal. She's where you are--California. Or maybe it's Arizona by now, she likes warm weather, could be Florida for all I know. Or care. We've been divorced three years, she's still filing paper on me, she's money-mad--what's the diff. For all I know, this conversation really is cock and bull and you're one of her lawyers."

"Call the LAPD West L.A. station and ask for Lieutenant Sturgis." I gave him Milo's cell.

"You just told me another name."

"I'm Delaware. Lieutenant Sturgis is the chief investigator on the case. Talk to him directly."

"About what?"

"We're trying to track down Elise's family. There's a body that needs to be dealt with."

"Oh... well, that's not my problem."

"How about the last known address and number for Sandra?"

He rattled off the information as if he chanted it daily. Gutierrez Street, Santa Barbara. Three years of animosity but he kept his ex close at hand.