“A photographer?” Paula looked confused at first, thin lines wrinkling across her forehead. Then she closed her eyes as if to focus on her recollection. “It was a long time ago.”

“Take your time. It’s important.”

“It was Halloween…and before that.…” She opened her eyes. “The party.”

“Party?”

“We were members of Alpha Chi Omega— Give me a second.” Paula jumped from her seat and ran upstairs, coming down a few seconds later holding a picture in a frame. “Our sorority had a costume party that week with Sigma Nu. There was a photographer there.”

Paula handed Niki the picture. It showed two women with their arms across each other’s shoulders. On the left, a younger version of Paula toasted the photographer with a cup of beer. On the right, Eleanora gave a peace sign with her raised hand. She wore the nurse costume that she would wear on the night she died.

“It’s the last picture I had with Ellie. You think the photographer had something to do with…”

“Can I take it out of the frame?”

“Sure.”

Niki pressed the clips aside and pulled off the back of the frame, her breath catching slightly when she saw the stamp. GVS Photography.

“Can I keep this?”

“Anything you want. Does it help?”

Niki carefully lifted the photograph by its edges and slipped it between the pages of her notebook, where she could carry it without contaminating it any further. “Was the photographer who took this picture a man or a woman?”

Paula again closed her eyes as if to transport herself back to the night of the party. “A man, I think—yes, a man.”

“Was he wearing a costume?”

“I don’t…Wait…yeah. I think he wore…a Phantom of the Opera mask.”

“Beard or clean-shaven?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

“I barely remember him being a man, so…Who was he?”

Niki had come to that meeting with Gavin’s face, his name, and his lisp in her quiver. Paula had already made it clear that the face was a nonstarter, but maybe the name might ring a bell. “I believe the person who took this picture is named Gavin Spencer. Does that name—”

“Gavin Spencer?” Paula lit up. “Gavin Spencer took that? He went to school with us—with me and Ellie. He…Oh my God…that was Gavin?”

“What?”

“That fucking bastard! That…”

“What?”

“He took Ellie to homecoming. It was horrible. He talks with a bad lisp, right?”

Niki almost broke her composure. “Go on.”

“Ellie felt sorry for the little prick. She was just being nice to him, and he…”

“What happened?”

“Gavin’s mom threw hot coffee on Ellie after the dance. We called the cops and everything. Did he…did he kill Ellie?”