"Nothing as far as I know, except she flew the coop. I went in her room one morning and found her bed hadn't been slept in and half her stuff was gone. She'd helped herself to my best suitcase, too. Of course, she stole just about anything wasn't nailed down."

"The murdered girl I'm talking about was found in Lompoc. You know the area?"

"Up near San Francisco?"

"Not that far north. Closer to Santa Teresa."

"Couldn't prove it by me. I don't travel. Used to, but now I prefer to stay put."

"Why was she living in your home ?"

"I was a foster mom-something like that. Reason she ended up with me is I had this woman lived next door asked if I'd help. She'd had a whole string of foster kids trooping through her place. County wanted her to take Charisse, but her husband wasn't well and it was more than she could manage. She asked if I could open my home – that's how she put it-'open my home to someone less fortunate than myself. What a joke. Wilbur barely gave me enough to cover all the household expenses. At any rate, my neighbor told me Social Services paid close to a hundred and eighty dollars a month, so that's why I agreed. Doesn't sound like much, but every little bit helped."

"How'd the arrangement work out?"

"Not that good. Girl was foul-mouthed and disrespectful, though, at that age, I'll be the first to admit, Justine was the same. Her and me had troubles enough without Charisse sticking in her two cents' worth."

"How long was she was with you?"

"Five, six months, I'd guess. I believe she came here early March."

"Can you remember the date she disappeared?"

Medora made a sour face. "I never said she disappeared. I said she took off."

"Sorry. That's what I meant. When did she take off?"

"July, I'd say. Doesn't surprise me to hear she came to a bad end. She's a wild one, that girl. Had a bad case of hot pants. Picked up boys every chance she got. Out until all hours. She'd come waltzing in here three in the morning, smelling like crème de menthe and marijuana. I warned her and warned her, but would she listen to me?"

"What happened to her parents?"

"Don't know. I never laid eyes on that pair. Must've been druggies or something if the State had to step in."

"How old was Charisse?"

"Seventeen. Same as Justine. Girls were both seniors. Of course, Charisse got kicked out of regular high school and sent over to Lockaby. That's the school for dummies and delinquents."

Bemused, I thought back to my conversation with Eichenberger, the principal of Quorum High, who'd sworn up and down he remembered every student who'd ever passed through his doors. What a pompous old windbag. Charisse had not only been there, but she'd caused enough trouble to get tossed out.

"You have other children?"

"Just the one."