“You gotta work with what you have.”
“I’ll say. Tell you the truth, he frightened me with all his talk of interest and penalties.”
“How much does Pete owe?”
“That’s what the agent is trying to determine. He says failing to pay taxes is one thing. Failing to file is a federal offense. It’s not like he wants to get me in hot water; just the opposite. If I come up with any documentation at all, he thinks he can get the issue resolved in my favor.”
“What issue? Is he talking about personal or professional?”
“Professional, but not the 1988 returns. He dropped that idea. I told him Pete had one client this entire past year, so he shifted gears. Now he’s focused on Byrd-Shine.”
“That’s ridiculous. Pete wasn’t a partner in the agency. He wasn’t even a full-time employee. It was all contract work. Who bothers to hang on to old 1099s?”
“I’m just repeating what he said. I don’t want to argue with the man when I’m trying to pass myself off as a conscientious citizen. Pete swore he had access to all the old records, but they weren’t close at hand.”
“When did he talk to Pete?”
“A year ago, I guess. He says Pete assured him he had the paperwork in storage, but it was a hassle to get to and that’s why he was dragging his feet.”
“It does sound like him.”
“Doesn’t it? He never did anything he could put off.”
I said, “Here’s what seems weird: as broke as he was, why would he shell out money for a storage unit?”
“Hadn’t thought of that. You think he lied?”
“Not my point. I’m saying if he’d rented a self-storage unit, you’d have heard about it by now unless he paid a year in advance. Otherwise, the renewal would have come up, don’t you think?”
“True. I guess he might have stuck the paperwork in the attic. I mean, we don’t really have an attic, but we have the equivalent.”
“Which is what?”
“Junk room might be the kindest way to describe it. Most of it’s mine from when my mother died and we had to clean out her house. Always possible Pete shoved a box or two in there. It would be easy to overlook.”
“Sounds like it’s worth a try.”
“I’ve been meaning to do it anyway. I could use the space. Enough about my mess. I better let you get to lunch.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll do a quick search and get back to you within the hour. Will you be there?”
“I’ve got errands to run, but it shouldn’t take me long. I’m not crazy about the idea of your using work time for this. Why don’t you drop the box at my place and I can tackle the job? Play my cards right and I can probably talk the IRS guy into lending a hand. I could swear he was moments away from volunteering.”
“Well, aren’t you the charmer? He’s really falling all over himself. So what’s this guy’s name? If I get audited, I’ll be sure to ask for him.”
“George Dayton, like the city in Ohio. You sure you won’t change your mind about bringing the box to me?”
“No, no. I’ll take care of it. I should have done it a week ago.”
“Well, I thank you. Let me know what you find.”
? ? ?
I decided I might as well grab lunch at home, thus combining feed-time with the task I’d forgotten. As I rounded the corner of the studio, I spotted Henry standing to one side of the yard in a white T-shirt, shorts, and flip-flops. He has the long, lean lines of a distance runner, though I’ve never seen him engaged in formal exercise. He’s a man in constant motion, who keeps his intellect sharp by way of crossword puzzles and other tests of memory and imagination. The genetic code for all of the Pitts kids has tapped them for long lives. His brothers William and Lewis share Henry’s lean build. Charlie and Nell, now ninety-seven and ninety-nine years old, respectively, are constructed along sturdier lines, but enjoy the same extended longevity. Charlie’s hearing has dimmed, but the lot of them are smart, energetic, and mentally acute.
I crossed to Henry’s side and looked down, noting he’d dug a twelve-inch-deep hole in the lawn, into which he’d inserted a measuring stick. The cat sat nearby, staring attentively into the hole, hoping something small and furry would appear.
Henry picked up his watering can, filled the hole with water, and took a quick look at his watch.
“What’s this about?” I asked.
“I’m measuring soil perk. This dirt has heavy clay content, and I need to find out how fast the water drains.”
I studied the water in the hole. “Not very.”
“I’m afraid not.” He glanced at me with a wry smile. “I made a discovery today. You know how Ed’s been getting out?”
“No clue.”
“Dryer vent. The tubing came loose and I spotted the hole when I was crawling through the bushes checking water lines.”
“You close it up?”
“I did. He’ll probably find another way out, but for now he’s housebound.”