I didn’t want to lie to the cops. Not any more than I had, anyway. When I called Detective Renfrew on Wednesday morning, I said that I’d dropped by Claudia’s last night and found the place a shambles, but I didn’t mention the intruder. Then I told her about my sister’s miscarriage and Mrs. Decarno’s news. “Two men were at Claudia’s apartment on New Year’s Eve. Mrs. Decarno is such a witch, I wasn’t sure if she mentioned it to you, but she saw them.”

“Why doesn’t it surprise me that she spends all day watching your sister’s place through her peephole?” said Renfrew. “And no, she didn’t tell us about that. We’ll have to re-interview her.” There was a pause. “When did she happen to mention this?”

“Last night. By the way, did you find Kaylee Quan yet?”

“We did, and we’ve been told we can only ask questions through her lawyer,” Renfrew said. Bruxton would have probed harder for how I’d gotten the information. Renfrew seemed just as perceptive, but more willing to let small sins slide than her partner was. “Looks like they’re circling the wagons for some reason.”

“Can she do that? I mean, get away with not answering questions?”

“We cops don’t like people to know this, but people don’t actually have to talk to us,” Renfrew said in a conspiratorial tone. “We can force the issue, but they have the right to have a lawyer do all their talking. We can’t drag Kaylee Quan downtown, unless we arrest her.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Sucks for us. By the way, we need you to come down to the station today. Want me to send a car?”

“That’s okay, thanks. What’s happened?”

“I think we’ve found something that belongs to your sister,” Renfrew said. “We need you to identify it.”

CHAPTER 22