Shit. I’d stumbled right into that one. I shook my head. “If a kid’s waving around crime-scene photos and his parents do nothing about it, then it’s their fault if he grows up to be an insensitive ass. If they punish him and explain what he did wrong, and he still grows up to be an insensitive ass ...” I shrugged.

Paula nodded, but woodenly. She lowered her mug, hands still folded around it.

“Are you happy with the investigation?” I asked after a minute of silence.

It seemed like the right lead-in. But Paula’s hand tightened around her mug and she said, very carefully, “The sheriff’s department knows its job, and Chief Bruyn is doing his best to support them.”

In other words, despite the antagonism between them, she wasn’t going to question his competence. Not with a stranger, at least.

“You’re very young, Ms. Levine,” she said after another moment. “Yes, I know, you’re obviously an adult, old enough to be done with college, working. Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

I didn’t correct her, just gave something that could pass for a nod.

“When I was your age, Ginny was in school already, I was working two jobs and I had this house, and I wouldn’t have appreciated someone saying how young I was. But from where I sit now, you are young, Ms. Levine. Young means inexperienced. I’m not unhappy to get extra help with my daughter’s case, but I will admit I’m much happier to hear that a Dallas detective is also working it.”

I bit my tongue—hard. How would she react when she realized Michael Kennedy wasn’t much older than me?

“When he comes to me for an interview, I’ll gladly grant it,” she said. “So, to be fair, I’ll do the same for you. I want my daughter’s killer found, and I suppose more people investigating can’t hurt.”

“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure it was the kind of statement that expected thanks, but I appreciated it.

I took out my notebook. “Chief Bruyn is convinced he knows who killed Ginny.”

“Cody Radu.”

“And you think ... ?”

She hesitated, her reluctance to disparage a local warring with other feelings. After a moment, her shoulders dropped, as if conceding the battle.

“I think he’s a bastard,” she said. “A lying, scheming bully. Is he capable of murder, though? No. I doubt he’d dirty his hands like that.”

I thought of the lie I’d spun for Michael. “Would he hire someone?”

That gave her pause. “Yes, if Cody wanted someone dead, I suppose that’s how he’d do it.”

I asked her about Cody and Ginny’s relationship. She didn’t tell me anything I wouldn’t have already guessed. Cody’s relationship with Ginny had been nothing short of toxic, and Paula had hated him for it.

Cody hadn’t even done the typical wealthy-guy seduction and wooed Ginny with a better life. The only thing he gave her was booze and drugs. And black eyes. A lot of black eyes. Look at another man, get a black eye. Couldn’t find someone to baby-sit Kayla when he wanted sex, get a black eye. Didn’t get him a beer fast enough. Wouldn’t entertain his friends. Complained about anything. All earned her a beating.

“But she loved him,” Paula said. “Isn’t that how it always is? The one guy who treats you worse than all the rest, that’s the one you can’t live without.”

I thought of Adam. Not always. But I nodded. “What about Kayla? Did he ever hurt her?”

Paula’s face fairly crumpled with relief. “No, thank God. He wanted nothing to do with Kayla. Wouldn’t have her around.”

“He didn’t like the reminder that his girlfriend was a mother.”

“Maybe that was it. I was still careful, though. I started helping Kayla in the bath again, to look for signs ... I had to be sure. I couldn’t say anything about how he treated Ginny—she wouldn’t listen. But if he’d ever touched Kayla ... ”

“Did Ginny or Brandi have any contact with Alastair Koppel?”

“Favorite suspect number two. I don’t know anything about that commune or cult or whatever he has going up there. Neither did Ginny. He takes in young women, and Ginny and Brandi were young women, but that’s the only connection. Mr. Koppel has never recruited in town. Never even approached one of our local girls. He’s not stupid. Some people want him gone and he won’t give them any excuse.”

“What about Ginny’s father?” I asked.

She started at that, coffee sloshing. “Pardon me?”

“Ginny’s father. Is he a local? Did she have any contact with him?”

“Oh.” She laughed. “Sometimes I forget she had a father. Certainly never felt like it. He left town before she was born. She was, for all intents and purposes, my daughter. Mine alone.”

My responsibility. I heard that, even if she didn’t say it.

“What about Claire Kennedy? I know she arrived after Ginny’s death, but was there any way Ginny might have known her? Did Ginny ever move away from Columbus? Work outside it? Socialize outside it?”

“The only time Ginny left Columbus was to party, and even then, no farther than Portland. I encouraged her to take a job in the city. I thought it would help if she got away from Brandi. She just accused me of trying to get rid of her. The truth, I’m sure, is that she was afraid to leave. This was all she knew. Could she have met Claire at one of those parties in the city? I suppose it’s possible, but from what I’ve heard of Ms. Kennedy, she didn’t seem the type to have gone to them.”

“Did Cody know Claire? Any rumors? A chance meeting, maybe?”

She shook her head. “Nothing I ever heard of.”

“I did,” said a voice from the hall.

We turned to see Kayla. She stood there, notepad clutched to her chest.

“Dorothy told Aunt Rose that she saw Cody talking to Claire the day before she died. They were fighting.” She pursed her lips. “Arguing, I think she meant, not really fighting.”

“I never heard this,” Paula said.

“Neither has Bruyn,” I said. “He’d have been all over it.”

“Dorothy didn’t tell the chief,” Kayla said. “She doesn’t like him. He egged her house at Halloween when he was a kid. She didn’t say that—just that if he was a good cop, then he didn’t need her giving him clues. She doesn’t like Cody either. He let his dog poop on her lawn a few times.” She looked at me. “Dorothy’s really old, but she never forgets anything.”