“I’d like to hear more about that. It helps me get a feel for who she was. Did she focus on textile design? Or was she talented at other things: drawing, painting—”

“Of course she could draw and paint. But she was excited by . . . how did she phrase it? She liked elevating crafts into works of art. Like her textile designs. She used to call it wearable art.”

“What other crafts did she like?”

“I don’t think Angeline ever met a craft she didn’t like: weaving, macramé, papier-mâché, stained glass, pottery, glass blowing—”

“Stained glass?”

“Yes, she was very good at it. She started at around fourteen. I didn’t relish the idea of her using knives and working with shards of glass, but she was careful. I think she only cut herself a couple of times.”

“It’s an unusual hobby.”

“With Angeline, the more unusual the better.”

“Any idea why she took up stained glass?”

“Like I said, she loved anything artistic and unusual. She was influenced by a woman named Clara Driscoll who worked at Louis Comfort Tiffany Studio—the lamp guy. She told me that the best designs were actually done by her and not by Tiffany even though he put his name on them. That appealed to her as an artist and a woman. Why are you asking about her art?”

“Just trying to get a feel for your daughter. It may be significant down the road.”

“Whatever I can do to help.” Her voice cracked. “Ask your questions, Detective.”

Decker said, “Mrs. Bronson—”

“Karen, please.”

“Karen then. I wouldn’t bring this up unless I thought it was important, so please forgive me in advance.”

“What . . .” Anguish in her voice. “Was she pregnant?”

“Did she intimate that to you?”

“No . . . I mean just the way you’re talking . . . was she pregnant?”

“I honestly don’t know. I haven’t gotten the report back.”

Her voice grew very soft. “How did she die?”

“I won’t know anything definite until I get the report.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Nothing I want to talk about over the phone. I do have another question for you. Please don’t take it personally. Before she was murdered, Angeline had acquired a collection of expensive handbags and designer shoes. Would you know anything about that?”

“No.” A long pause. “How expensive?”

“Bags over a thousand dollars and exclusive designer boots.”

“Oh my Lord . . . I . . . no, I don’t know anything about it.”

“That’s all I wanted to know. We’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“She couldn’t afford . . . maybe Lance Terry bought her gifts. He comes from money.”

“We asked him. He didn’t buy them. He did tell me that they broke up a year ago.”

“They did, but I thought they remained friends.”