"Sounds like a keeper." Marisa glanced at the photos again. Each had Leslie and at least one other person, if not many more. She recognized some as clients they'd served way back when Marisa had worked there. Her sister garnered loyalty, that was for sure. Leslie'd kept the photos with employees upstairs, the photos with clients down. Marisa'd like to think that was because she was closer to the employees and wanted their photos in a more intimate place. She'd like to think it, but she didn't. Leslie kept the client's pictures downstairs because they made her look good.

"Do you recognize any of them?" Nate asked. "Might they be friends?"

"A few. Clients."

"No friends?"

"She never had many friends." Marisa returned to the door. "This was a waste of time."

He stepped to the window in the living room and pushed the heavy curtain aside. "I want to show you something." She joined him at the window and looked at the casing as he pointed. "These are really good windows. New, with excellent locks. See?" He showed her the double-locking system. "No reason why she'd have them open in March, and if you look around, you'll see they're all locked. There are none that look like they've been tampered with." He crossed to the back door and opened it. "No scuff marks on this lock."

She looked. He was right.

"And there are none on the front door, either," he said.

"You're saying nobody broke in."

He shrugged. "I don't see any signs of it."

"Great. Just proves what we thought."

He closed and locked the back door, then gestured toward the front. "Shall we?"

She led the way, ready to leave.

She climbed into the truck. When he joined her, he started the engine and drove a few blocks, glanced at her a few times. He pulled over and put it in park.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

She sighed. "It's my house, too."

"Okay."

"She changed everything. I mean... Everything. Every light fixture, every cabinet, everything."

"That bothers you?"

"She made my bedroom into a workout room. All my stuff is gone."

"I looked in the basement. There were lots of dust-covered cardboard boxes. I didn't check, because they seemed to have been there a long time. Maybe your stuff is down there."

"Maybe she didn't give it all to Goodwill."

"It's something."

She sighed and stared out the side window. "It's like she never believed I'd come home. Like she just wrote me out of her life. Like I never existed. There wasn't even a photograph of me." She turned to look at him, wanting him to understand. "No photographs of Mom, either."

He nodded slowly, his brown eyes intent as he studied her. He reached across the seat for her hand. "It seems your sister is not who you thought she was."