“What do you think?” Brody asked, stepping back as the morgue assistant wheeled a gurney to the dugout. Arranging a white evidence sheet inside the black body bag, he and Frank transferred the body. Stella flinched as the bag closed over Missy’s face with a final zip.

Poor Missy.

“The needle indicates drugs, but someone beat her.” Stella turned back toward her car.

Brody fell into step beside her. “Drugs and violence often go hand-in-hand.”

“They do.”

Reporters swarmed her as she ducked under the crime scene tape. She raised a hand to block the microphone shoved in her face.

“Detective Dane, are you handling this case?”

She breathed through her first instinct, which was to tell the reporter to go away. Police Chief Horner was adamant about polite press-police relations. As long as Stella worked for the Scarlet Falls PD, she had to give the press her attention and company manners. “I’ll be working on this case, along with the rest of the Scarlet Falls Police Department.”

“What can you tell us about the victim?” Another reporter waved his mic at her. “How did she die?”

Stella leaned closer to a mic. “Cause of death will be determined by the medical examiner.”

“Can you identify the body?”

“The deceased’s identity will be publicized after next of kin are notified,” Stella said.

The shouts continued. “What can you tell us about the death? Was it murder?”

Stella held up her hand. “We’re just beginning our investigation. It’s too early for any assumptions. We’ll issue updates as information becomes available. Now you’ll have to excuse me.” Stella threaded her way through the throng to her vehicle. But the reporters’ questions hit home. She knew nothing about Missy’s adult life.

Stella and Brody got into the car, and she drove to the address listed on Missy’s driver’s license. Parking at the curb, she surveyed the one-story, gray house. “A 2004 blue Toyota Corolla is registered to Missy Green. I don’t see it here.”

“It wasn’t at the baseball field either.” Brody climbed out of the car.

“So how did she get there?” Stella followed him to the sidewalk.

Missy had lived in an apartment behind the house. Painted to match the house in front, the small unit appeared to be a converted workshop or storage building. A single cement step led to a tiny stoop and front door. They climbed the step, and Stella knocked. No one answered. Covering her eyes, she peered through the glass panes in the door.

“Can I help you?”

Stella turned. An elderly woman stood on the walkway. Her black polyester slacks swished as she pushed her four-wheeled walker forward.

“Yes, ma’am.” Stella moved her blazer to show the badge on her belt and introduced herself and Brody. “Could I have your name please?”