Connections in Death (In Death #48)(42)

“I—God.” Rochelle framed her face with her hands, pushed in with them. “My mind’s just drained out. I took a selfie on Valentine’s Day, wearing the earrings. One of me and Wilson together. It’s on my ’link.”

Because her hand shook, Walter took her ’link when she pulled it from her pocket. “I’ll find it, Ro. You should sit down.”

“I just need to move a minute.” She paced the little room, struggled to regulate her breathing. “I never wore the brooch. It was cheap and gaudy, but it was my mother’s so I kept it.”

“Gram has a picture of her wearing it.”

She stopped, looked at Walter. “Of course, she does. I forgot.”

“Can you get that to me?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Walter said, and held out the ’link to his sister. “Is this the one?”

“Yes, yes, that’s it. They’re so pretty.”

And shiny, Eve thought as she studied the photo on-screen. Gold dangles glittering with heart-shaped red and clear drops.

“Peabody.”

Peabody moved to Walter, gave him the codes to send a copy of the photo.

“I don’t think I have one of the bangle.”

“Describe it.”

“It’s about an inch wide, I guess, three circles of colored stones. Like cabochons, in ah, purple and green and amber. It’s not worth the stealing, but I liked it.”

“Check the rest.”

Once she had, Rochelle shook her head. “I don’t see anything else.”

“Let’s check Lyle’s room.”

Rochelle gripped Walter’s hand before they crossed the hall.

“His Save It jar. I know that was at least half full.” She moved to his closet. Her voice had thickened, but she managed to keep it steady. “His good high-tops are gone. He didn’t wear them to work—grease and spills. He only wore them when he went out, over to Martin’s, or sometimes when he went to church with Gram.”

“Earned his points,” Walter murmured and shared a smile with his sister.

“That’s right. Grammy points. Black Lightning high-tops, with the white lightning bolt down the back. Size . . . I think size ten.”

She walked to the dresser. “I don’t know what he had, I mean, what he might’ve kept in his dresser.”

“Is there anything you know he had that might be missing. Something shiny, say, like your jewelry, or eye-catching like your purse. Or usable like the shoes?”

“I don’t really—”

“Did he have his earbuds on him?” Walter asked. “He’d have had them in his pocket, or if he was going to shower and change like he told Ro, he’d have put them on the dresser.

“We don’t have earbuds in his effects.”

“They’re good ones. Martin and Clara gave them to him for Christmas. Bodell buds. Black. The Exec level. He prized them. And they’re worth something.”

Eve had them search, but already knew they were gone.

“We’ll follow up on the missing items,” Eve told them. “If they try to pawn anything, we’ll trace it back. This is very helpful.”

“I just don’t understand.” Rochelle ran a hand over her face, over her thick wedge of hair, down to the back of her neck. “If they tried to make it look like Lyle was using again and overdosed, why did they take anything? We’d have known somebody stole those things.”

“If you’d believed Lyle was using again, what would you think when you found your jewelry missing?”

As she lowered her restless hand, Rochelle sighed. “That he’d taken it to get money for illegals. If I’d believed the first, I’d believe the second. But neither’s true.”

“Exactly, and now we have more lines to tug. The apartment’s clear for you to stay.”

“Actually, I’m going to pack some things. I’m going to stay at Wilson’s for a few days, and spend time with my family. We’re going to see Lyle later today.”

“You can go ahead and pack what you need. Walter, why don’t we talk out in the other room?”

“Are you okay, Ro?”

“Yes. You go ahead, Walt.”

He hugged her first, held on a minute, then walked out to leave her alone to pack.





9

“I’m going to see if Ro has anything cold. You want?”

“Sure.”

He walked into the kitchen—needed composing time himself, Eve thought, though he’d held up well for his sister.

“She’s got that bug juice—health crap. I wouldn’t go there. A few Cokes because that was Lyle’s . . . That was Lyle’s poison, especially since he gave up drinking.”

“I wouldn’t mind the bug juice,” Peabody told him.

“Okay, that’s on you. I’m going for a hit of one of the Cokes.”

“I’ll go with that.” Eve watched him from the doorway. He knew where everything was, didn’t have to hunt. “You ever bunk here?”

“I lived here before college. Ro got the place after she got the job, and we went in on this two-bedroom. I live on campus now, but sometimes I flop on the couch since Lyle . . .”