As I sat on the bed listening to them, I thought about Claudia’s wide circle of acquaintances – she called them friends. She crashed at their apartments when she was between boyfriends. It made sense that one of them might return the favor one day and come to stay with her. There was one friend, a pink-haired girl, who’d slept on my sofa after her boyfriend had beaten her. I’d been impressed because she’d gone to rehab and actually stayed straight. Of course, Claudia dropped her for the same reason I’d liked her. I wondered idly about the suitcase on the bed. Had someone been planning a trip?

“Did you look through many of these boxes, Lily?” asked Renfrew.

“No. Just a couple on top.” I stood and joined Renfrew in front of the closet. She opened several boxes and examined the soles of the shoes. “Some of these have been worn, but lightly,” she said. Then she knelt and eased out the scuffed boxes from the bottom of the stack. One held a pair of my own heels that I’d left behind. Another contained a blue terrycloth hand towel that was wrapped around a knobby bundle.

“Careful, Norah, the girl was a junkie,” Bruxton said.

“Calm yourself down, Brux,” Renfrew answered, lifting the towel by its edges and turning it over, so that it opened up. We all stared at the contents silently. There was a half-used bag of cotton balls, a black disposable lighter, and a tarnished-looking spoon. I’d never seen Claudia inject herself with heroin, but I recognized the paraphernalia. All that was missing was a hypodermic needle and a tie-off. And the heroin itself, of course.

Renfrew stood up, smoothing the front of her pantsuit, speaking to each of us in turn. “Brux, would you mind taking Mr. Pete’s statement? Thanks for your help, Mr. Pete.” She shook his hand. “Lily, come with me for a second.” I followed her into the living room.

“We talked to the neighbors on Saturday,” Renfrew said quietly. “Nobody mentioned a visitor staying here with your sister.”

“Claudia kept away from all of our neighbors when she lived with me. She never talked to them, or to Mr. Pete.” I’d chided Claudia for being rude, but she’d just rolled her eyes. They only see me as your screwed-up sister, she’d shot back. Your pet project.

“Okay, but that girl over at the morgue wasn’t wearing a diamond when we found her yesterday,” Renfrew added. “Brings to mind all kinds of questions, like where the hell is that ring?”

“Was Kaylee Quan wearing a ring?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“Couple of big rings, as a matter-of-fact.” Renfrew looked pensive.

“What happens now?”

“First, we need to make sure Mr. Pete’s got all his synapses firing. We’ll talk to the neighbors again. Run the prints off that girl in the morgue through the system.”