She got along well with Jan. No mention of her brother.

“They were close,” she continued. “Jan and Christian. Only fifteen months apart. Inseparable.”

Gabriel flicked through his notes. I doubted he was actually reading them, just looking as if he had to refer back. He pulled one page to the front.

“According to this, they weren’t that close when she died. Friends said they spent very little time together.”

“Oh, that’s just Jan’s friends. Mom said they liked talking to the police officers, because some of them were young and cute. They exaggerated things to get attention. Jan and Chris were close.”

Gabriel shuffled the papers, his gaze down. He looked troubled. After a moment, he gripped the file and looked up, jaw set, as if determined to speak, however much he’d rather not.

“Anna . . .”

A nervous flutter of her hands as she quailed under that intense stare. “Yes?”

“Do you want me to defend your brother’s memory?”

“Y-yes. I really appreciate—”

“Then you need to be honest with me. It says here that multiple acquaintances reported that Jan and Christian were not close at the time of her death. Even your mother said they’d . . .” He consulted the file for effect. “Grown apart.”

“Yes. Right. I’d . . . forgotten that. They were so close when they were young. I remember how much I envied that. As they got older, they drifted apart a bit. That’s natural.”

“Did it seem mutual?”

Anna shifted. Sipped her coffee. Even nibbled on a cookie before blurting, “You’re right. I should be honest, and this is just the kind of thing a lawyer could use against Christian, so we need to be prepared. It was Jan who drifted. She was the popular one. Christian was . . . not popular. Her friends decided he wasn’t cool enough for them. Jan was young. She made mistakes.”

Jan had been a year younger than me when she died. From Anna’s perspective, that now seemed very young, but from mine, it was past the age where you could blame peer pressure for making you avoid your geeky brother.

“And how did Christian feel about the estrangement?” Gabriel asked.

“It hurt him. A lot. For years he tried to get their old relationship back. I always thought that’s why he killed himself. Because he’d lost her for good.”

Gabriel nodded and gave her time to relax before he said, “You know I need to ask about the fight.”

Anna didn’t flinch. Instead, she let out an audible sigh of relief and relaxed back into her seat. “I never understood why Mom and Dad made such a fuss about that. By refusing to tell the police what happened, they made it sound important, and it wasn’t.”

Gabriel waited, his gaze on her until she continued.

“It was about Pete.”

“Peter Evans? Jan’s fiancé?”

“I don’t know if this was in the file,” she said. “The police probably didn’t consider it important. Jan had been engaged to another man before Pete.”

Tim Marlotte. He did have a page in the file, because an estranged fiancé made a good suspect when the victims were his ex and her new boyfriend. Marlotte hadn’t been a serious suspect. Too much time had passed between the breakup and the murders. The cops investigated, though, and found Marlotte had a rock-solid alibi—he’d been at a family dinner, where a dozen people could vouch for him, including his new girlfriend.

“Tim was Christian’s best friend,” Anna said. “The three of them had hung out together since they were kids, and Tim and Jan dated all through college. Then she met Pete. That was tough enough for the family—everyone liked Tim—but combined with the other issue, it made for some serious family drama.”

“Other issue?”

“The age difference.”

“He was younger than Jan,” Gabriel said.

Anna nodded. “Three years. Pete was barely nineteen when they started going out. My parents were embarrassed. His parents weren’t happy. Tim was confused. Christian was upset. No one was pleased.”

“Except Jan and Pete, I presume.”

She wrapped her hands around her mug. “Yes. They were very happy. I look back now and I feel bad for everything we put them through when they were obviously in love. Even I wasn’t nice about it. I think I was jealous. Pete was only two years older than me and he was such a great guy. Tim was nice and sweet, and I’d known him forever, but he and Jan . . . there weren’t sparks, you know? Maybe it was because they knew each other so long. It was like a comfortable marriage before they even got engaged. They genuinely liked each other but like isn’t enough for a relationship. Jan realized that when she met Pete. She loved him and he loved her back, and I wish we’d all seen that and left them alone.”

“So the fight was about Jan and Pete?”

“Yes. Tim had started seeing a new girl. Christian had still been hoping Jan and Tim would reunite. He found out that Jan had called Tim to say she was happy for him. Christian exploded. He told Jan it was rude and cruel to congratulate Tim on finding a replacement for her. They fought. Christian stormed out. He came back that night after Jan was in bed. They didn’t speak the next day and then . . .”

And then Jan and Pete were dead.

“So it was nothing,” Anna said. “A family fight. Hardly anything that would make Christian . . .” She shook her head. “I can’t even say the words.”

• • •

After a few more questions, Gabriel wrapped it up. He asked if Anna had any contact with Tim Marlotte. Turned out they still exchanged Christmas cards. She had his number and was happy to ask him to speak to us.

As we left, Gabriel was closing the door and I noticed the welcome sign. Earlier I’d seen only red flowers on it. Now I saw what they were and tried not to stiffen.

“Poppies,” I murmured. “An odd choice for decoration.”

“Why?”

“Do you know what they signify?”

“Opium?”

I shook my head and started down the steps. “Death. Appropriate, I suppose, given all she’s been through.” I tried not to think of her father, of what she’d go through then. “God, I don’t think I said one word in there.”

“You did very well.” He reached into his pocket. “Have a cookie.”