She clawed a cheek. “The man used to be pure sunshine. And brilliant. He had a repertoire of thousands of jokes, could rattle them off by category – you name it, he’d know twenty gags. After Doris’s funeral I moved out and got a job at a rest home. Two months later, Mel called me. When he asked me out, I thought it was for old times’ sake – to thank me. When he showed up at my apartment all spiffed up with a corsage, I was taken aback – shocked, really. I had no idea. But I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I went along with it. He took me to The Palm, we ate steak, drank great wine, and I ended up having the best time of my life. He was… We dated for a long time. I finally agreed to marry him two years ago. I quit smoking for his health. I know the age difference is… but it’s not what it seems.”

“No need to explain, ma’am.”

“Sure there is,” she said. “Sure there is – there’s always a need to explain. I know you’re thinking this is another May-December gold-digger routine. But it isn’t. Mel’s well-heeled, his art alone… But we have a prenuptial, and I don’t know the details of his finances – don’t want to know. I get an allowance. I’ve never asked him to amend his will. He’s the nicest man in the world. Until recently we-”

“Ma’am-”

“ – just had the greatest time. Traveling, taking cruises, living life. Lauren only met him a few times, but she liked him – he made a point of telling her how gorgeous she was, ‘a regular Marilyn.’ She never got that from her father. Lauren’s never gotten anything from her father, and maybe that was my fault.”

She sobbed. I sat down next to her.

“So Lauren didn’t come by often,” said Milo.

“She was always busy. With school and all that – the times she was here, she loved Mel’s jokes.” Her eyes hardened. “Lyle never told her jokes. Lyle wouldn’t know a joke if it – There wasn’t much to laugh about in our family. I’m sure you remember that, Dr. Delaware.”

I nodded.

“What a grim life we had. Mel taught me what real living was all about. Then, a year ago, he had the first stroke. Then another. And another. His legs went first, then his mind. Sometimes he’s clear as a bell, but mostly he’s like what you just saw. My other baby. Thank God the elevator was already in place for Doris or I don’t know what we’d do. So it’s not that bad. He weighs next to nothing, getting him in the chair’s no problem – my training. Bathing him’s a bit of a – But no big deal, for the most part, things go smoothly.” Her face constricted, and tears gushed from her eyes. “For the most part, they go very very smoothly.”

I took her hand. Her skin was dry and cold, thrummed by an unseen tremor.

“He’ll be beeping me soon,” she said. “He misses me when I’m not there.”

“Do what you need to do, ma’am,” said Milo. “We’ll work with you.”

“Thank you. You’re sweet. Oh, this is… oh…” She threw up her hands, laughed horribly.

“A few questions, ma’am. If you feel you can handle it-”

“I can handle anything,” she said, without conviction.

“Some of these questions are going to seem stupid, but they need to be asked.”

“Go ahead.”

“Can you think of anyone who’d want to harm Lauren?”

“No,” she said quickly. “Everyone loved her. She was sugar.”

“No ex-boyfriends? Anyone with a personal grudge?”

“She never had a boyfriend.”

“Never?” said Milo.

Silence.

Jane Abbot said, “She was going places. With her work, her education. Didn’t have the time for relationships.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“She told Mel that. When she’d come over, he’d say, ‘You’re so gorgeous, doll. Why no stud on your arm?’ Or something like that. She’d laugh and say she didn’t have time to waste on a man, and Mel would make cracks about if only he were two hundred years younger… When – If he figures out what happened, it’ll crush him.”

Her nose began to run, and I handed her a tissue.

“Her work,” said Milo.

“Modeling – she freelanced, saved up quite a bit of money. It allowed her to go back to school.”

“No time for boyfriends,” he said. “Not a single one.”

“No one that I ever met.” Her eyes shifted to the floor, and I knew she was holding back. Aware of Lauren’s real profession?

“Busy with her studies,” said Milo.

“Yes. She loved her classes. Loved psychology, planned to go all the way – get a Ph.D.” To me: “You inspired her. She thought you were great.”

Milo said, “In addition to classes, did she do any psychological work?”

“You mean like volunteering? I don’t think so.”

“Volunteering, research.”

“No,” said Jane. “Nothing that she mentioned.”

“What about travel?”

“She took off from time to time. But only for a day or two. Not a week – that’s how I knew something was wrong. Andy – her roommate – knew it too. I could tell when I spoke to him. He was worried. He knew this was wrong.”

“Andy,” said Milo. “Lauren and he get along pretty well?”

“Famously, like two peas. He finally got Lauren to spruce that place up. He has a great eye – most of them do.”

“Them?”

“Gays. They’re clever that way. It was a smart arrangement. I told Lauren that. No hanky-panky, and he had a great eye for decorating.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She agreed.”

“So,” he said, “you’re not aware of any conflict between her and Andy?”

She stared at Milo. “Andy? You can’t be – No, no, ridiculous. He’d have no reason – He’s more of a girl than a boy. They were like two sorority sisters.”

“No reason for conflict because no sexual tension.”

She blanched. “Well, yes – aren’t so many things like this… physical – men hurting women because they’re… twisted?”

“You think this might’ve been a sexual crime?”

“Well, no,” she said. “I don’t think anything – what do I know? Was there – Did someone abuse her?”

“Nothing points that way, ma’am, but we’ll have to wait for the coroner.”

“The coroner.” Jane began crying again. I was ready with another tissue, and Milo wrote in his pad. I hadn’t seen him take it out.

“When Lauren went off for a few days, where’d she go, Mrs. Abbot?”

She looked up. “I don’t really know.” Another eye shift, and something new had come into her voice. Wariness. Milo had to have heard it, but he kept his eyes on the pad.

“So she never told you details, just that she was taking off,” he said.

“Lauren was twenty-five, Detective.” Long bout of crying. “Sorry. I was just thinking: She’ll never be twenty-six… Lauren was a private person, Detective. I knew I had to respect that if I wanted to… keep getting along. We had… a history. Dr. Delaware can fill in the details. Lauren was a really rebellious teenager. Even as a small child, if I pushed, she’d pull. If I said black, she’d insist it was white. Then my ex walked out on us and we got poor overnight and Lauren didn’t want to know about that. She ran away when she was sixteen, never lived with me again. For years, I barely heard from her. I tried…” She looked at me for support.

I mustered a nod.

“We reconnected,” she went on. “All those years of barely hearing from her, and she wanted to reconnect. I was afraid if I bugged her, I’d lose her. So… I didn’t. And now… maybe if I’d…”

“No reason to blame yourself,” I said.

“No? Do you mean that, or is that something you just say to all the… whatever I am?”

Her head dropped into her hands. The nape of her neck was moist with sweat. I thought about the lunch that had sent Lauren home upset. Complaining Jane was trying to control her. At odds with Jane’s speech about restraint.

She sat up suddenly, flushed, cold-eyed. “What I’m trying to say is I was trying to get to know her again. To know my daughter. And I thought I was doing pretty good. And now… I should be able to tell you more but I can’t. ’Cause I don’t know – it’s come to this and I don’t know!”