“Well, you know, new boobs, new nose, newfangled diet. Always wantin’ more, and Nathan didn’t have much. You know that car he drove off the cliff was about a month old. Financial troubles. With her always raggin’ on him about the next thing, you can see why he did it.”
“You’re saying he caused the accident on purpose?” September asked.
“He killed himself and his wife.” Gretchen’s tone was disbelieving.
Tynan shrugged. “That’s what Mom always thought, but that was before she went . . .” He circled his finger beside his ear.
“Your mother. Grace Myles?” September clarified.
“Hannah tell ya she’s batty?”
“It’s your mother’s house you all live in,” Gretchen said. “But she’s in assisted living.”
“House is mine. Smart lawyer got her to sign it over before she went completely nuts. Had to wait a few years before she went into Memory Care so the state wouldn’t take it back. She kept wandering off and we’d have to fetch her and drag her home. Finally, we could put her in that place and let the state take care of her. You know how much it costs? Nothin’ for us now, thank the good Lord, but woo-wee.”
“How well did your mother know the Singletons?” September asked.
“Better’n I did. Lot better.”
“Do you think she’d remember them?”
Tynan gave September a long look. “She’s batty. Remembers stuff from years ago. Pops out with it. But it don’t make a lot of sense. No rhyme or reason, y’know? Just whatever floats across her dumb brain.”
“In your expert opinion,” Gretchen said sardonically, “do you think it would be worth our while talking to her?”
Her tone wasn’t lost on Tynan. He thought about taking offense, actually opened his mouth to snap back, but then thought better of it and clamped his lips shut tight for a few moments before adding, “Go on ahead. She’s at Maple Grove Assisted Living.”
“Do you know anyone else on the street that was friends with them?” September asked.
“I wasn’t around all that much. You could talk to Mr. Bromward. He’s been there forever.”
“He’s at the far end of the cul-de-sac from the Singletons.”
“He’s got cats,” Tynan said, making a face.
“We’ve met with him,” Gretchen said.
“Can you think of anything else about the Singletons?” September tried, realizing they’d about tapped him out.
He stared down at his now empty mug and shook his head. “Hey, Tim, I’m dry,” he called to a bald, overweight man with a Humpty Dumpty look about him. Tim waddled over, picked up the mug, and thrust it under a spigot of Budweiser.
Back in the Jeep, Gretchen shot September a look as she turned out of the lot.
“Maple Grove Assisted Living?”
“Do you think it’ll do any good?”
“Nope.”
September grimaced. “Should we make another run at Bromward? At least he wanted to talk to us.”
“Yeah, because he’s lonely, and he didn’t know anything. And no shit about the cats.”
“Lots of cats,” September agreed.
“A hundred.”
“Twenty,” September corrected.
“Twenty’ll turn into a hundred real quick unless he gets rid of some of them and gets the others fixed.”
September made a face. “Let’s go see him. Next week we can talk to Grace Myles.”
“An exercise in futility.”
“Probably, but we’ve interviewed most of the people on the street. Tynan was about our last one. A couple more of the husbands, but they’re too young and new to the area for me to have much faith in them knowing an elderly couple who kept to themselves.”
“What about the Chinese people?”
“What about them?” September responded. “Their daughter says they don’t know anything. They haven’t been there long enough to matter either. Where we are now is to the previous homeowners. I’ve talked to a couple. You’ve talked to a couple.”
“I really don’t want to see Bromward again,” Gretchen admitted on a long-suffering sigh. “I’m allergic to cats.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Okay. Fine. I just don’t want to go.”
“You’d rather go to Maple Grove Assisted Living?”
“I’d rather go back to Tiny Tim’s and drink a beer with Tynan,” she said under her breath, “but Aurora Lane and Mr. Bromward’s cats it is.”
*
Ray Bolchoy opened the door to Luke, then settled back in his brown leather La-Z-Boy and to the glass of Jameson he was nursing. Luke sat down on the couch, which could have used a deep clean. Bolchoy, a confirmed bachelor, was an excellent investigator, but a housekeeper? Not so much.
“How’s the private side?” Bolchoy asked in his gravelly voice.
“Coming on. Greg Wren’s widow just hired me.” He told Bolchoy about Andi’s encounter with Brian Carrera. He didn’t tell his former partner of her pregnancy, but he did relate what she’d said about her brother-and sister-in-law. He finished with, “I’m meeting her tomorrow at the cabin she just bought on Schultz Lake.”
His answer to that was a grunt.
Luke added, “Glad the hearing went well.”
“Don’t have my job back, though.”