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And one very delicious kiss.
Stop it.
She opened the bag now, and fished out the other half of the sandwich, aware of the beast inside her awakening with a frightening ferocity. What had Rembrandt said about being obsessed? You have to learn to take breaks, let your mind think. You get so focused on something it can keep you pinned to it, and then it will derail your entire life.
Yes, well, she’d spent most of her life focused and it had netted her a dream job with the Minneapolis Police Department, so maybe that wasn’t a terrible crime.
More, her focused work had unearthed more than a few clues about Gretta’s recent history. She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite.
“Fine. I’ll have to settle for a stale donut,” said Silas. He had poured himself the last dregs of coffee and was now reading over the updated evidence board. “You tracked down the credit card in her possession.”
“It wasn’t hard.” She came over to the board where she’d tacked a list of the charges. “It was registered to Robert Swenson, who owns property off of 41st Avenue South, just a few blocks away from Lulu’s Diner. And, there’s quite a few pizza delivery charges from Station Pizzeria, which is about four blocks to the east.”
She’d printed out a map of the area and noted the locations with a marker. “My guess is she was renting out the place, or maybe just using it, but that’s where she was living for the past three months.”
“Who is Robert Swenson?”
“I ran his name, and of course we got about 726 hits in the Minneapolis area. But, when I ran his address, I found a Robert Swenson who coaches the Edina Hornets, a female fast-pitch community softball team.”
“Do you think—”
“Yep. I did some digging and found an old picture of Gretta Holmes in uniform for St. Mary’s Prep. She played shortstop.”
“So, her coach found her a place to live.”
“Looks like it.” She took another bite of her sandwich. The afternoon sun hovered just over the horizon on its slow slide into the night, which put the time after dinner. Maybe she should head home.
Not be quite so, you know, obsessed.
Huh. She hadn’t really noticed that about herself, but maybe Inspector Stone was onto something.
Funny, he almost knew her better than she did.
Funny, or creepy.
“Do you think they were…you know…” Silas raised an eyebrow.
It took her a second. Oh, Robert and Gretta. “Having a relationship? I don’t know. He’s married with a kid, so…let’s hope he was just sincerely trying to help.”
“Any updates on the cufflink?” Silas asked.
She finished her sandwich, wiped her hands on the napkin. “Yes. They’re bronze cast, with nickel backings. Commemorative, with the crest of Sigma Chi, a Norman cross topped with an eagle holding a scroll in the middle. Their motto, In Hoc Signo Vincese is inscribed underneath.”
“What does that mean?”
“In this sign, you will conquer.”
“You looked that up?”
She frowned. “No. Didn’t you study Latin?”
“Not even a little.”
“How do you—never mind. The important part is the Sigma Chi at the top, and the year at the bottom—1855, the year they were founded.”
They’d walked over to her microscope. “I was looking for any evidence, like skin or hair, but it’s clean.” She picked up a cloth and used it to retrieve the cufflink. “It looks hand cast, and I did some digging.” She dropped the cufflink into a baggie. “Sigma Chi celebrated one hundred and sixty-five years of history last summer in a big nationwide to-do. All the living loyal life Sigmas who attended the event received a set of cufflinks.”
“How many is that?”
