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brown hair was pinned into an old-fashioned bun at her nape.
    After introducing themselves, they showed her to the coffee room, a small office converted to a pseudo-kitchenette, its only real amenities being a small sink in the corner, a refrigerator, and an ancient microwave oven. A rectangular table and four chairs took up most of the room.
    He motioned to Mrs. Nuñez to sit in one of the chairs while Mari sat across the table from her. He hung back, leaning his shoulder against the refrigerator. He and Mari had worked together long enough that they knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, knew who worked better with what sort of people. Mari had an affinity to women, particularly older women. She was their daughter, their friend, their confidant.
    There was something in most people, guilt probably, that made them want to confess their sins. All they needed was a sympathetic ear and the absence of an attorney telling them it was in their best interest to shut up.
    Put Mari in a room with a woman and she’d know everything from her shoe size to her kindergarten teacher’s name before she came out.
    Mari folded her hands on the table. “Thank you for coming in, Ms. Nuñez.”
    â€œPlease, call me Rosa.” Her gaze darted from Mari to him and back. “Are you the detectives working on Miss Amanda’s case?”
    â€œYes. We’d like to ask you a few questions about your employer, Ms. Pierce. How long did you work for her?”
    â€œAbout six years. Ever since she moved into the new apartment. I used to live there, too, until last year. I got married again and, well, I had to move out.”
    â€œHow was she to work for? Was she friendly or more distant? Was she easy going?”
    â€œOh, no. She is very strict,” Rosa said with a note of pride in her voice. “Miss Amanda wants everything just so. Everything spotless. She made me vacuum that whole place every day.”
    â€œOn Friday when she went out, did she tell you where she was going?”
    â€œNo. Miss Amanda never told me anything like that. She was very private with me. She seemed excited, though, like she got sometimes when . . .”
    Rosa’s words trailed off, and Jonathan could imagine the rest.... When she discovered some particularly dirty bit of information on someone else.
    â€œDo you know if Ms. Pierce was seeing anyone? Did she have a boyfriend?”
    Rosa shook her head. “There used to be this one, but not for a long time. Maybe two year. The only one I see sometimes is the agent. I make rice and beans for him.”
    â€œAs far as you know, was there anyone bothering Ms. Pierce, threatening her?”
    â€œOnly the usual crazy people. People who don’t like what she wrote. I would see her mail at home sometimes.”
    â€œWhat time were you expecting her back on Friday?”
    â€œAbout six the latest. That’s when I usually go on Friday. She pay me and then I leave.”
    â€œHas she ever been late before?”
    â€œNot if she didn’t call. That’s why I worry. I wait a while, then I call my husband. He says you have to wait to report someone missing, so I waited.” Rosa’s eyes misted over. “Who could have done this to Miss Amanda? She’s a hard lady to work for and I know some people don’t like what she writes in her books.” Rosa shook her head.
    Since neither he nor Mari had an answer for that, neither of them commented on it. Jonathan straightened and took a step forward. “Thank you for coming in, Ms. Nuñez. If we need to speak to you again, can we reach you at the same number?”
    Rising to her feet, she nodded. “I hope you find who did this.”
    â€œI promise you, we will.”
    Rosa nodded again and allowed Mari to escort her from the room. When they were gone, Jonathan poured himself a cup of coffee. How palatable it would be depended on who’d brewed it, which was anybody’s guess. A