Under a poof of dyed brown hair, the woman’s penciled-on eyebrows rose in surprise. “I’m Mrs. Sterling. I own this property.”

“Missy is your tenant?”

“She is.” Mrs. Sterling’s wrinkled lips pressed flat. “Did something happen to her?”

“We’d like to ask you a few questions.” Stella evaded the question. Missy’s family deserved to hear the news first.

Mrs. Sterling splayed a hand above her saggy bosom. “She was that woman found at the baseball field, wasn’t she? I just saw it on the news. They didn’t give her name, but why else would two detectives be here?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Stella admitted.

“I knew there was a reason I hadn’t seen her for a few days.” Mrs. Sterling turned and sat on the padded seat of her walker. “I was hoping maybe she’d met someone.” Taking a tissue from the pocket of her sweater, she blotted her eyes. “Missy was a nice girl.”

“No trouble with her as a tenant?”

“No. None. Missy kept to herself. She worked two jobs, day shift as a cashier at the grocery store on Elm Street, and she cleaned offices at night. Didn’t leave her much time for trouble.”

“I guess not,” Stella said. “How long has she lived here?”

“Just a few months.”

“Do you know if she has any friends?”

“I’ve never seen any around, but I know her mother lives nearby. If you want to look in her apartment, I can get my key.” She rocked back and forth twice to gain enough momentum to shift to her feet.

“Did she live alone?” Stella asked.

“Of course. I specified no roommates when she signed the lease, and she was too busy working for any entertaining. My last tenant was a college student. He was a problem. Loud music and girls coming and going at all hours.” Mrs. Sterling’s mouth puckered. “But there were no parties or other shenanigans with Missy.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Let’s see.” Stuffing the tissue back in her pocket, she pressed a forefinger to the corner of her mouth. “I don’t remember exactly. A few days at least. Missy works a lot. Sometimes she’s gone before I get up and not home yet when I go to bed.” She shuffled up a cement path toward the house. “Let me get that key.”

“Mind if I look around?” Brody asked.

“Not at all,” Mrs. Sterling said over her shoulder. “How did she die?”

“We’re not sure,” Stella said.

Stella followed Mrs. Sterling to the back door and retrieved the key.