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doorway. “Is CSU here yet?”
    “Not yet,” he said. “But I expect them any minute.”
    Detective Cunningham shook his head. “Will you get working on
photos and measurements of the bed until they get here? We need to move the bed
out from the wall about three feet—I’m looking for evidence of
a filing cabinet being there.” Then he turned his attention back to the almost
imperceptible mark in the carpet. It would have been made by the lower leg of
the bed and Sadie followed his eyes toward where the head of the bed would have
been. There was a similar mark about two feet out from the edge of the bed.
Malloy left the room.
    “Would she have moved the bed?” he asked.
    “I suppose,” Sadie said. “But where would she have put the
filing cabinet? I haven’t seen it in any of the other rooms.”
    “Yeah, me neither,” the detective said. “But I would expect a
bed to make a deeper impression in the carpet if it had been moved just hours
ago.”
    “Is it wet?” Sadie asked, taking a step closer just as Malloy
returned with a measuring tape.
    Detective Cunningham looked up at her with a questioning
expression. He did have very nice eyebrows. “Wet?”
    “This is a thick plush carpet. If you put an ice cube in the
indented area and let it melt, it fluffs the carpet back up.”
    “This well?”
    “On a high-quality carpet like this—maybe.
With mine I have to use my hand or the vacuum hose to fluff it up when it’s
mostly dried, but my carpet isn’t this nice. This carpet was new when Anne
moved in.” She stepped back so Malloy could measure the distance of the carpet
marks with the wall at the head of the bed.
    “How long would it take for the carpet to spring back up?”
    “However long it takes to melt an ice cube and have the
moisture begin to evaporate, restoring the air into the carpet fibers and
therefore expanding its overall shape—I would guess two or
three hours.”
    Detective Cunningham looked at her in surprise. “Really?” he
asked. “My daughter would love to know that.” Then his expression turned
serious. He stepped forward and put his hand on the carpet. Sadie held her
breath, thrilled at his positive reaction and hoping she’d been right. He
looked up at her. “It’s damp,” he said, looking pleased. “But just barely.”
    Sadie tried to contain her excitement about having helped, even
in a small way. She wondered if he was no longer regarding her with suspicion.
She hoped so.
    Just then two men entered the room. They were in street
clothes, but each carried a bag and wore latex gloves. The lost CSU people,
Sadie suspected. Malloy handed over the measurements he’d already made on
a pad of paper and left the room. Detective Cunningham gave them some
instructions on what he wanted them to do and then he and Sadie got out of
their way. The men immediately went to work.
    “Is there anything else different in there?” he asked Sadie
once they were in the hallway looking back into the bedroom.
    Sadie searched her memory and frowned. “I really don’t know.
I’m not very familiar with her bedroom. We’re usually in the kitchen, or on the
back porch.” At least, they used to be in those places. Not anymore.
    “When did you last see the cabinet?”
    “Maybe last month,” Sadie said without confidence.
    They were silent for a moment, watching the techs. It gave
Sadie the creeps—people going through Anne’s house trying to
figure out how her life ended. As much as she wanted to help, she was feeling
the heaviness of the day press upon her. And Trevor was still out there. “Can I
go now?” she asked, her voice sounding timid.
    He nodded. “I’ll show you out.”
    She backed into the hallway in order for him to pass—her
hands still tightly clenched behind her back. They had reached the kitchen when
Sadie remembered her earlier ponderings about the lemon tart. She quickly
looked around the kitchen, her eyes resting on the stove. It was off and she
felt a little