“Back up a step. You said Pete’s widow is a friend. Were you and Pete also friends?”
“Sorry. I should have filled you in. We worked for the same detective agency many years ago. I was just starting out and needed six thousand hours for licensing purposes. Pete was pals with Ben Byrd and Morley Shine, the guys who ran the firm. To be honest, I know about the lawsuit you filed against Ned Lowe in that same time period.”
“How long did you work there?”
“From 1975 to 1978, when I left to open an office of my own.”
“I thought Pete was a partner in the agency.”
“Is that what he told you?”
“Not directly, but that was the impression he gave.”
“Well, it’s not true. He didn’t even work there full-time. He did occasional contract work.” I was doing a poor job of concealing my dislike, which might have been a mistake. If she was crazy about Pete, I didn’t want to put her off.
Her response was mild. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t like his distorting the facts. Ben and Morley kept him at arm’s length.”
“And why was that?”
I considered my reply. No reason to offend on the off chance she thought he was a model citizen. “I don’t see the point in going into it,” I said.
“If you’re asking about Pete, your history with him is relevant, don’t you think?”
I entertained a small debate. If I wanted information from her, I was going to have to prime the pump. The problem was I’d have to be circumspect, which is not my strong suit. I chose my words carefully. “Pete had trouble distinguishing right from wrong. He was usually hard up for cash and willing to cut corners when it came right down to it.”
“Really,” she said, bemused. “He didn’t strike me as morally compromised, which is what you’re suggesting.”
“Let’s put it this way: what got him killed was extorting money from someone with something to hide. Maybe he was different in his dealings with you.”
“Possible.”
“You know, I appreciate your professional reticence, but so far this is like pulling teeth. Can we loosen up a bit?” I asked. “I’m trying to decide how much time and effort to expend, so a tiny bit of information would be a boon.”
“Ask anything you like. I’ll tell you what I can.”
“I’d appreciate it. Let’s start with Lenore Redfern. Am I correct in thinking Ned was married to her?”
“Years ago, yes. According to the story I heard, Lennie suffered postpartum psychosis after their little girl was born. When the child was three, Lennie killed herself, and now he’s married to someone else.”
“Celeste. I ran across her name in a wedding announcement Pete clipped from the local paper.”
“You’re talking about April’s marriage,” Taryn said. “I saw the notice myself and remember thinking her life must be turning out okay after all.”
“Given her mother’s suicide?”
“Yes.”
“What do you know about Shirley Ann Kastle? I’m assuming she’s connected to Ned in some way. As nearly as I remember, she wasn’t named as a party to the lawsuit.”
“She wasn’t. Shirley Ann was peripheral.”
“Meaning what in this context?”
“Meaning I don’t want to go into it quite yet. I’m not saying I won’t, but I have concerns to satisfy first. How much do you know about the lawsuit?”
“Ned’s attorney hired Byrd-Shine while I was there. You sued for intentional infliction of emotional distress, and they were asked to do a deep background check.”
“On me, yes. I’m painfully aware.”
“I thought you dropped the suit.”
“We reached a settlement.”
“Really. According to the talk around Byrd-Shine, you had him nailed. They were sweating bullets. Why did you back off?”
“Because I panicked. When Ned’s attorney—I notice I’m blanking on the name . . .”
“Arnold Ruffner.”
“Of course. How could I forget? When Ruffner took my deposition, he tore me apart. He had information that would have been devastating if we’d gone to trial.”
“Like what?”
She closed her mouth and shook her head once before she went on. “Sorry to do this to you, but I’ve said enough for now. That was a difficult time, and I really don’t want to go into it.”
“When I mentioned Lenore’s name and then Shirley Ann’s, you jumped right to Ned. Why was that?”
“He grew up in Burning Oaks.”
“He was born there?”
“Don’t think so. I know that’s where he went to high school. Phyllis Joplin was his second wife.”
“Well, that’s a help. I take it you weren’t the one who gave Pete the list?”
“He must have put that together on his own.”
“Do you know why?”
“I can make a reasonable guess, but I’d prefer not to spell it out. I hope you won’t push.”
“Of course not. I appreciate what you’ve told me so far, and I want you to feel okay about sharing more. I hate the word ‘sharing,’ by the way.”