Milo made the introductions. Sandra Stuehr's handshake was topped by a quick little after-squeeze, the merest pressure of warm fingertip on knuckle. She beckoned us in, curling hair around an index finger, cocking a hip, and secreting Chanel No. 5. A perfect hourglass shape was enhanced by an even cushion of firm flesh. Back in Reubens's day, painters would've lined up for the privilege.

Milo said, "So sorry for your loss."

"Thank you. I'm ready to help you with whatever I can." Brief pout but no evidence of tear-tracks and her sapphire eyes sparkled. "Coffee? I'm having a refill."

"If it's no trouble."

"It's no trouble at all." Pivoting like a dancer, she crossed to a bright, open kitchen with a view of coral bougainvillea.

The aroma of French perfume permeated the little house's interior. We were miles from the beach but Sandra Stuehr's decor did its best to evoke sand and surf: overstuffed seating slip-covered in white canvas, pine tables waxed to a soft gleam, seashells and driftwood and bits of tumbled rock placed cleverly, so as not to crowd the limited space.

"Here you go."

The mug she handed me was pearl gray, embossed with a gold crucifix and a gilt legend.

Blessed Heart College. The First Hundred Years.

She settled on a love seat, folded her legs to one side. "How was the traffic from L.A.?"

"Easy," said Milo. "Great coffee, thanks."

"French press and I grind the beans myself." Soft, sad smile. "If you can't do something right, why do it at all?"

"We're trying to investigate your sister's murder the right way, Ms. Stuehr."

"Of course you are." Too-quick, too-wide smile; the tension of a first date.

I rotated the mug so Milo would notice. He pointed and said, "Blessed Heart is how we found you."

"Really."

"They put a call for alumni on the Internet."

"That silly reunion," said Sandra Stuehr.

"You didn't attend, huh?"

"Only sad people live in the past, Lieutenant. Blessed gave out my number?"

"No, that we got from your ex-husband."

"Good old Frank. I'm sure he had all sorts of wonderful things to say about me."

"We didn't get into personal details, Ms. Stuehr. Did Elise happen to attend the reunion?"

"I tend to doubt it."

"You don't know for sure?"

"If that's a subtle way to ask if Elise and I were close, the answer is far from it. Still, I'm devastated by what happened. Did she suffer?"

"No," said Milo. "How often did the two of you see each other?"

"Seldom verging on never," said Sandra Stuehr. "Even after I moved to California--two and a half years ago. Not for lack of trying on my part, one of the first things I did was drive down to L.A. to have lunch with Elise. It was pleasant but not intimate and afterward we both lied about staying in touch. Elise didn't even invite me to her home. I've never seen it."