Her mug went down hard on an end table. Coffee sloshed, wood thrummed. She stared at the stain. "He abused her but not me. I'm sure she blamed me. I refuse to feel guilty. Maybe if she'd talked about it, we could've worked it out, I don't know."

Milo said, "Physical abuse or--"

"Oh, it was sexual, all right," said Sandra Stuehr. "It was nothing but sexual, those good old, dependable late-night visits to Elise's bedroom. You could set your watch by it. Eleven twenty p.m. and his slippers were making those vile, scraping sounds on the carpet. Like a slithering snake, I still hear it from time to time."

"You shared a room?"

Rapid head shake. "Elise and I had adjacent bedrooms but I could hear his footsteps, hear the bed bump--feel it, my headboard was right next to the wall. Then everything would grow quiet and I'd hear Elise whimpering. I could hear her. I was too scared to do anything but stay in my bed, what if he paid me a visit and started bumping my bed? But he never did. I was relieved. When I wasn't wondering if it was because Elise was the slim, pretty one and I was the chubby little Pillsbury dough-girl."

Her lips folded inward. She got up, took her mug to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, popped a can of Fresca and sat back down.

"Sure be nice to put some vodka in this, but I don't drink anymore. Not that I had a problem, nothing like that, I was always moderate. But since I moved here, I decided to get healthy. Yoga, meditation, walking on the beach, I quit smoking. Put on fifteen pounds, but I can breathe again."

I said, "Your father was a middle school principal. Did you see any sign he abused his students?"

"I'm sure he did. All those little girls running around, easy for the taking? He ran Chancellor for nearly forty years, why miss out on a great opportunity? But what goes around comes around, as I'm sure you've found out."

"Something happened to him?"

"You don't know," she said. "Nine years ago, someone put a bullet in his head."

Milo said, "Who?"

"Unsolved," she said, grinning. "The cops said it was a street robbery, but I've always wondered if it was some father or brother getting even. Or even a girl who'd grown up and gotten in touch with her rage."

"Someone like your sister."

"Did Elise do it? Maybe. I have no knowledge of her being in Baltimore when it happened, but who knows?"

"Was he still working when it happened?"