Phaedra made a show of nodding in agreement. She did not say what she really wanted to--that she was already dead--because there were people out there who would chase her with pitchforks or riddle her with bullets.
Then, just to be cute, she stood up from the wall and put both hands behind her back. She closed her eyes for a second, to concentrate, and then reached out with her mind to find the men that had encircled Peter when she'd first arrived. Undoubtedly, one of them had picked up the rings, the necklace...
She found them one by one. And eventually, she found the person who'd picked them up. And saw where they were.
Phaedra opened her eyes.
As luck would have it, one of the men who hadn't spoken had picked everything up, pocketed it, and still had it in his pocket. There were therefore two options: find the man, whose name, Phaedra was discerning, was Earl, or have Earl bring everything back.
"They're in Earl's pocket," she said. She kept her hands behind her back. "Earl is the one losing his hair. On the fatter side. Didn't say anything, just followed the others."
She smiled a close-lipped smile. Earl oughta return those things. And apologize. Phaedra didn't know anything of Roman's abilities, of the things Peter had seen his friend do. She wasn't grabbing for salient information, or pushing at Peter's mind in the way she had the ability to. But she did know that most people found the little mental pushes she was able to give disconcerting at best, and scary most of the time.