Garcia pulled an evidence bag from where he’d tucked it in his duty belt. “I put them here, along with a few additional bags, in case you need them.”

Mancini took them. “Thank you, Officer. You can rejoin Tepper now. Let me know when forensics is clear to move the body. I want one last look.”

Garcia gave his last look at Ethel, confused by what he considered the detective’s most unusual involvement of a woman old enough to be Garcia’s grandmother. “Ma’am, sorry to meet under such circumstances.” He left reluctantly.

Mancini rolled on a pair of gloves. “I can help you cover your slippers.”

“Why?” Ethel took the booties, squatted down on the floor, and pulled the coverings over her red suede moccasins. Then she got to her feet without assistance.

Mancini shook his head and then leaned against the wall with one hand while wrestling the booties over his black oxfords with the other.

“Need some help?” Ethel offered.

“Don’t rub it in.”

When Mancini was ready, he turned the knob and pushed open the door. “Who turned on the light?”

“It must have been Jonathan. I’d say he made at least one trip up here before being shot at the car. The light certainly wasn’t on all weekend.” She looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “His laptop’s not here. Did you see it in the SUV?”

“No. If it wasn’t taken by one of the men, then maybe it’s under the seat. I’ll check when I go back out. Maybe Finch first brought some hanging clothes for the armoire.”

“Maybe. I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Mancini picked up the book on the nightstand. “This cryptocurrency. Was that something he was interested in?”

“He never spoke about it with me. But the Secret Service deals with currency, so I guess it’s an area of interest.”

Mancini looked at the bed. “Blanket’s tucked so tightly it doesn’t look like he set anything on it or sat on it.” The detective’s knees cracked as he knelt on the floor. He peered under the bed. “Nothing under here now. Did he normally store something there?”

Although she didn’t want her onetime roomer to get out in front of her, Ethel was pleased Mancini proved to be observant. “I can’t say.”

“Can’t say or won’t say? Something has been slid in and out, sweeping a path in the dust.”

“Then there’s your answer.”

Mancini got to his feet. “No, there’s my question. Could it have been the satchel Jesse saw? Had Finch just brought it down from the room or gone back to retrieve it and his laptop from his car?”

“It could have been a satchel of clothes.”