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"Oh, no, I don't mean that. I don't mean it's in any way your fault. Of course not. It can't possibly be your fault, Zipporah. What we're all trying to do is find Karen first and try to understand what happened and why. That's all. You know she and I were not as close as I would have liked us to be. Teenagers are so difficult these days," she explained to the detectives. "Especially teenage girls. Karen was always moody. Wasn't she, Zipporah?"

I shrugged. We're all moody, I thought, but didn't say so. Karen's mother continued as if once she had begun, she could never stop.

"I know she and Harry weren't getting along, but she and I weren't getting along all that well these days, either," she continued. "It's more difficult for a man to be raising and caring for another man's child, especially another man's teenage daughter, but Harry was a generous man. You know he bought her whatever she wanted, Zipporah. She never lacked for anything. She had her own room, clothes, everything she would need."

"Not her own phone," Detective Simon muttered, looking at me.

"What?"

"She complained about not having her phone. According to Zipporah," he explained, nodding at me. Darlene Pearson looked at me as if I had betrayed a deeply held family secret.

"She never asked either of us for her own phone," she said.

"But she wasn't permitted to talk for more than two minutes," I blurted.

"What?"

"Wait a minute," my father said. "No one kills anyone because she didn't get her own phone in her room. Let's move on here."

"I don't know what this talk about a phone is about. Harry was a generous man," Darlene Pearson recited as if it had become her mantra. "He created her college fund, too. You knew that," she told me sharply, as if I had suddenly been chosen to be Karen's attorney in court.

I was afraid of this, afraid I'd be cast in opposition to her mother and things would quickly get out of hand.

I shook my head. "She never told me about any college fund." She had never mentioned anything specific. She never used those words.

"Well, it's there. Probably never to be used now," she added. She took a deep breath.

"During this phone call from New York City," Lieutenant Cooper said, "Karen said she was going away, going down to the train station and leaving. Did she mention any other place she might like to go to?"

Again, I shrugged, and then I thought about our afternoons in the nest pretending we were in my car.

"We talked about lots of places. We thought when we had our licences and I had a car, we would take wonderful trips. We sent away for travel brochures."

"To where?"

"Everywhere," I said. "Florida, Michigan, California, Texas, even Canada."

"Canada?" her mother said, as if that was it. She looked at the detectives.

"If she tries that, it will be easier to catch her," Lieutenant Cooper assured her.

Why wasn't anyone wondering why Harry was in her room? Had they gone through the house? Did the detectives discover what was in the apartment Harry's mother had occupied? Should I suggest it, I wondered, or was I better off not saying another word?

"I think we had better be going," my father said, rising. "Even a fun trip is tiring, and we've all got to get ourselves ready for the work week. You know we're available to help you in any way we possibly tan, Darlene," he told Karen's mother.

My mother stood up, too, and, then walked to her to take her hands and embrace her.

"I'm sure I can't fully understand or appreciate how difficult all this is for you, Darlene, but if I can help you in any way, please call me."

"Yes, thank you," Karen's mother said. She looked at me again. "I'm sorry you're being put through the grinder, Zipporah. People are always saying you can't help who you have as relatives. You don't choose them, but in this case, it was unfortunate for you to have Karen as a friend, I guess."

"No, it wasn't," I said so sharply I surprised even myself.

No one spoke.

No one moved a muscle.

"She's not bad. She's not mean. This wasn't her fault," I said, and then, realizing I had said too much, I turned and rushed toward the door.

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