She sighed and looked up. “Look, I don’t think it means anything, so I probably shouldn’t even bring it up, but she did have a little issue with Patrick a couple of months ago.”

“Patrick?”

“My sister’s boyfriend.”

“Oh yes,” Claire said, nodding. “What do you mean, ‘an issue’?”

Emma’s shoulders slumped. “Patrick does some work in the building. He does odd jobs here and there. In April, Bev said that she had some stuff that went missing one afternoon when he was in her apartment working on her ceiling fan.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“A necklace she got from her grandmother and a pair of earrings.”

“He denied it?”

“Yeah, of course,” she said. “But Patrick has a bit of a temper. He blew up at her once at another get-together. I don’t think he’s ever gotten over it.”

“Did you see them interact tonight?”

Emma stared at Claire and bit her bottom lip. “No,” she said. “Look, there are a lot of things I could tell you about my sister’s boyfriend that aren’t really relevant to what happened to tonight. I wouldn’t go so far as to say he could’ve done that to Beverly,” she said. “But I will say that he has a temper, especially when it comes to issues having to do with money. I’ve seen it with my sister. He’s a bad influence on her.”

“Okay,” Claire said. “Thanks for being so candid. I think your sister is still out in the living room. I’m going to go grab a few moments with her.”

Emma nodded and followed her out of the kitchen. The apartment looked exactly the way a Gold Coast apartment should look: soft, tan furniture with black accents and well-placed, minimalist art that gave the room a museum-like feel. The room was slightly perfumed, with the smell of lavender or jasmine that didn’t seem to have come out of a can or candle. The air in the room felt expensive.

As they walked into the living room, they both looked up as an investigator near the couch bent over to pick something up, a frown on her face.

“What is it?” Claire asked.

The woman stood up and lifted a woman’s shoe in the air. It was a red high-heeled pump with a delicate gold buckle at the heel.

Claire walked over to the couch and leaned closer, examining the shoe. From a distance, it had looked well-made and expensive, but from here, she could see that the sole was made of cheap fake leather, and the shoe was fraying near the heel. She was no expert, but she would bet that the pair hadn’t cost more than thirty bucks.

“Does this belong to you?” Claire asked, turning back to look at Emma Bentley.