“If he had a good social network there, he might have become vocal, but only to those he trusted and felt comfortable with.”

“Jack, how do you know so much about eight-year-old children?”

“I knew our victim was eight, so I read into it. Every age category has its psychological definitions. It’s helpful to understand them, Val, if even what you learn is rudimentary.” Jack glanced around and took a few steps towards the closet. “Now, thirty-seven year-old unmarried childless women, such as yourself, might be feeling very broody and possibly depressed over the likelihood of becoming an old maid. But don’t worry, there’s still hope for you. You’re holding up well for your years.” He patted Val on the cheek and grinned.

“Holding up well!” she yelled. “And what about yourself.”

“Bachelor has a positive ring at any age. Spinster does not.”

“I am not a spinster!”

“Of course not, dear. Now, untwist your knickers so we can get a good look in here.” Jack opened the closet. “Anything obviously important was taken by the crime scene techs and the homicide detectives of course, but it never hurts to check for yourself for something they could have missed. But honestly, I see nothing more here.”

Jack walked out of Adam’s bedroom. Val followed him across the hall into Gabrielle’s.

“By looking at this room, what can you tell me about Gabrielle?” he asked as he stood to the side of the doorway.

Val stopped dead before entering. She had to admit that she wasn’t expecting to see it in such disarray. “Well, Gabrielle definitely wasn’t the neat one.” Jack called that one right after they inspected Adam’s room. Her bed wasn’t made and dirty laundry lay piled on the floor. Val walked around the clothing being careful not to step on anything. It’s possible the crime scene techs created some of the chaos when going through the house looking for any evidence but they wouldn’t have thrown laundry on the floor. Actually, they probably moved it out of their way so this is more than likely neater than it was.

“Yes, there is a considerable amount of disorganization here. Adam was our organized one.” Jack repeated the process of checking all the dresser drawers and closet.

Val circled the pile of clothes on the floor. As she did, she noticed something shiny and bent down to inspect it. A small chain had slipped out of the pocket of a pair of jeans. Val pulled on it, tugging it out of the pocket. Once freed, a key swung from the chain. It wasn’t a typical house key, it looked like a flat, short skeleton key but a little fatter, and there were several rectangular cuts in the shaft.

“Now that’s interesting.” Jack stood at the bedroom window, glancing out.