She placed the last piece of clothing on Ava’s mattress and then snapped her fingers, emphasizing that she’d just gotten an idea without divulging just what it was to the detective. “I need a suitcase for all of this. If you’ll excuse me.”

Before Calvente could object, Imani was out the door and heading down the stairs. “Mel keeps them in her room,” she shouted.

She exited off the landing and hurried through to Melissa’s bedroom. The space was expansive, large enough for a king bed, two walk-in closets, and, above all, a nook that was Melissa’s workstation. In Imani’s home, Philip handled the finances. But Melissa had been responsible for paying the bills in her family. Nate had considered himself the consummate artist. Bothering with anything as mundane as making sure people got paid had been beneath him, Imani supposed. Moreover, Melissa had said multiple times that he was a poor investor. “Easily swayed by a sales pitch, that one,” she’d quipped once. “He’d buy Florida swampland if someone suggested it was prime for development.”

That Melissa would not fall for such scams had gone without saying. She possessed the financial savvy of someone who’d made a fortune in her twenties and knew well that she had to make it last through her eighties. In all the years that Imani had known her, she’d always been careful with money. Generous, certainly. Yet also frugal.

Thinking about her friend’s talents felt like gathering anecdotes for a eulogy. Imani pushed the thoughts from her mind and hurried to Melissa’s paper-strewn desk, withdrawing her cell from her pocket. She wouldn’t be able to abscond with anything, Imani knew. But maybe she’d be able to snap a photo of something that struck her as worth further investigation.

A metal rack held recent mail. Imani noticed the name at the top of an opened letter: TKM Advisors. She pulled out the document and scanned the front. It appeared to be a law firm. The sight chipped away at her convictions about Melissa’s marriage. She hadn’t seen her friend face-to-face in months. Maybe Philip was right. Perhaps the forced time together had eroded Melissa’s relationship with Nate. It could have even been why Melissa had wanted to see Imani in person, despite her fears of catching the coronavirus.

Somewhere behind her, Imani heard footsteps. She snapped a photo and continued rifling through the documents. There were the standard heating, water, and tax bills. A letter from St. Catherine’s regarding a scholarship—no doubt one that the Walkers had endowed. They’d been very involved in the school, giving money as well as time, especially Nate. In addition to volunteer teaching, Nate had been on the scholarship committee and the admissions board.

“Mrs. Banks?” Detective Calvente called from the hallway.