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and some idiot reporter tries to get through to interview her over Bobbie Bray. My mother didn’t even know her.“
    “Does your mother know she was Bobbie Bray’s daughter?“
    The woman’s thin, tired face went blank. But it was there in her eyes, clear as glass. “What did you say?“
    “She knows, then – certainly you do.“
    “I’m not going to have my mother harassed, not by reporters, not by the police.“
    “I don’t intend to harass your mother. Why don’t you tell me when and how she found out she was Bobbie’s daughter, not her sister.“
    “I don’t know.“ Ms. Sawyer rubbed her hands over her face. “She hasn’t been well for a long time, a very long time. Even when I was a child…“ She dropped her hands now and looked more than tired. She looked ill. “Lieutenant, is this necessary?“
    “I’ve got two murders. Both of them relatives of yours. You tell me.“
    “I don’t think of the Hopkins family as relatives. Why would I? I’m sorry that man was killed because it’s dredged all this up. I’ve been careful to separate myself and my own family from the Bobbie phenomenon. Check, why don’t you? I’ve never given an interview, never agreed to one or sought one out.“
    “Why? It’s a rich pool, from what 1 can tell.“
    “Because I wanted normal. I’m entitled to it, and so are my kids. My mother was always frail. Delicate, mind and body. I’m not, and I’ve made damn sure to keep me and mine out of that whirlpool. If it leaks out that I’m Bobbie’s granddaughter instead of a grandniece, they’ll hound me.“
    “I can’t promise to keep it quiet, I can only promise you that I won’t be giving interviews on that area of the investigation. I won’t give out your name or the names of your family members.“
    “Good for you,“ Sawyer said dully. “They’re already out.“
    “Then it won’t hurt you to answer some questions. How did your mother find out about her parentage?“
    “She told me – my brother and me – that she found letters Bobbie had written. Bobbie’s mother kept them. She wrote asking how her baby was doing, called my mother by name. Her Serenity she called her, as if she was a state of mind instead of a child who needed her mother.“
    The bitterness in the words told Eve she wasn’t talking to one of Bobbie Bray’s fans.
    “Said she was sorry she’d messed up again. My mother claimed Bobbie said she was going back into rehab, that she was leaving Hop, the whole scene. She was going to get clean and come back for her daughter. Of course, she never came back. My mother was convinced Hop had killed her, or had her killed.“
    “What do you think?“
    “Sure, maybe.“ The words were the equivalent of a shrug. “Or maybe she took off to Bimini to sell seashells by the seashore. Maybe she went back to San Francisco and jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge. I don’t know, and frankly don’t much care.“
    Sawyer let out a long sigh, pressed her fingers to her eyes. “She wasn’t, and isn’t, part of my world. But she all but became my mother’s world. Mom swore Bobbie’s ghost used to visit her, talk to her. I think it’s part of the reason, this obsession, that she’s been plagued by emotional and mental problems as long as I can remember. When my brother was killed in the Urbans, it just snapped her. He was her favorite.“
    “Do you have the letters?“
    “No. That Hopkins man, he tracked my mother down. I was in college, my brother was overseas, so that was, God, about thirty years ago. He talked her out of nearly everything she had that was Bobbie’s or pertained to her. Original recordings, letters, diaries, photographs. He said he was going to open some sort of museum in California. Nothing ever came of it. My brother came home and found out. He was furious. He and my mother had a horrible fight, one they never had a chance to reconcile. Now he’s gone and she might as well be. I don’t want to be Bobbie Bray’s legacy. I