“Mother remembered her asking to use the bathroom, which you could only get to by going through her bedroom. Jewelry box was on the dressing table. Mother didn’t have occasion to open it until her birthday that year when Rachel and I were taking her to dinner at the club. She wanted to get all gussied up and that’s when she realized everything was gone.”

“Did you report it to the police?”

“I wanted to, but she refused. She said if Violet needed it that bad, she could have it.”

“Had Violet stolen things before?”

“No, but she borrowed money every chance she got, usually small amounts. She’d claim it was for Daisy so we wouldn’t turn her down.”

“That seems curious. She bragged about having fifty thousand dollars of her own, which Foley says she got from an insurance settlement. He can’t confirm the amount, but he knows she collected.”

“She told me the same thing, but I thought it was b.s. If she had that much money, why bother to weasel the two grand from me?”

“Suppose she was putting a stash together so she could take off?”

“Always possible.”

“Could she have kept in touch with your mother? I keep thinking that even if she managed to make a new life for herself, she might still want some tie to the past.”

“Certainly not with me. Violet didn’t have any sentimental attachments that I know of. There’s no way Violet could have made contact with Mother without my knowing. For one thing, her number was unlisted, and any mail she got had to go through me first. For a while, the scam artists had her on their radar screens and they were sending her letters proposing ‘lucrative’ financial schemes or telling her she’d won the lottery and needed to send in the processing fee. She was so gullible she’d give away the furniture if anybody asked.”

“And security at the facility was tight?”

“You’re thinking Violet could have sneaked in? Forget it. She had no use for Mother beyond ripping her off. Of course, it’s irrelevant now since Mother’s passed away, but if Violet had managed to make a new life, she wouldn’t risk discovery for a woman she didn’t give a shit about.”

“Any idea where she might have gone?”

“Wherever the road took her. She was a creature of impulse, not one for long-range plans.”

“But what’s your take on it? You think she’s out there somewhere?”

“I never said that. If she were alive, she’d have come back to beg, borrow, or steal what she could. I don’t think she went a month without a handout.” He took his foot off the desk and leaned in on his forearms. “You want my take on it?”

“Sure, why not?”