W is for Wasted (Kinsey Millhone 23)

“We’re hoping to pursue another approach. One that won’t involve you,” I said.

She stared for a moment, making up her mind, and then held open the wooden screen door. “You’re welcome to come in. I’m not liable for his debts, but I don’t mind listening to what you have to say.”

Dietz and I stepped into the foyer. There was a living room to our left, and she led the way to a small seating area. Dietz and I sat side by side on an upholstered settee that probably didn’t get much use. I suspected she occupied cozier rooms at the back of the house.

“How are you doing?” I asked. “It must be difficult.”

“I’m getting along well enough, though every other day, a new problem seems to crop up.”

“Such as what?”

“People like you arriving at my door,” she said. Her smile was slight and carried no rebuke. “I’ve stopped opening his mail. There’s no point in knowing about bills when there’s nothing I can do.”

“What are the police telling you?”

“Not much. They were interested at first. Now other cases have taken precedence.”

“No suspect?”

She shook her head. “They think he was killed with his own gun, which was missing from the scene. He took his Glock and his Smith and Wesson with him everywhere. Especially if he went out at night, he wouldn’t have been without one or the other. Usually he carried both.”

“Both of his guns are gone?”

“Just the Glock. His pocket pistol was returned to me. They found that in the trunk of his car. They believe there was a second gun involved, also missing. A Lieutenant Phillips is handling the case. I’m sure he could tell you more.”

“You have no idea why he was out that night?”

“He was an insomniac, so he was out many nights, roaming the streets. There was nothing unusual about that night, at least as far as I know.”

“No business dealings that might have gone sour?”

“He mentioned a job coming up and he was optimistic about his prospects. I have no idea what came of it.”

“What about friends? Was there anyone he might have confided in?”

“You knew Pete. He was a loner. He didn’t have friends or confidants.”

Dietz said, “Were you aware he was in financial straits?”

“I suspected as much, though his affairs are in much worse shape than I thought. He’d let his life insurance lapse. He had nothing in savings, his checking account was in overdraft, and his credit cards were maxed out. I knew he had problems, but I had no idea of the magnitude. When we got married, we swore we’d be honest with one another, but his pride sometimes got in the way. The house is paid for, but both our names are on the deed. I haven’t talked to an attorney but I’m hoping I won’t have to sell or take out a mortgage to satisfy his creditors.”

“Did he leave a will?”

“I haven’t found one so far. That was the sort of thing he postponed. In his mind, there was always time.”

“What about assets?” Dietz said. “I’m not asking from self-interest. I’m wondering if there’s anything you might’ve overlooked.”

“I’m surprised he hadn’t filed for bankruptcy. I have two accounts in my name that he had no access to or he might have gone through those as well. It was easy come, easy go with him.”

“A free spirit,” I suggested.

“Not free, from my perspective,” she said, tartly.

I noted the flash of heat with a feeling of relief. She was keeping her anger in check, but it was there.

She went on, her gaze fixed on the floor. “Two months ago he told me he was setting money aside for our anniversary. Next year would have been our fortieth and he wanted us to go on a river cruise. I didn’t take him seriously, but I was hoping he’d managed to tuck a little something away. If I could lay hands on anything, I could at least pay the noisiest of his creditors.”

“You haven’t found anything?”

She shook her head. “I’ve turned this house upside down and there’s nothing except for the twenty-two dollars’ worth of coins he tossed in a jar.”

“No investments?”

“Oh, please. No stocks, no bonds, no annuities,” she said. “He drove a Ford Fairlane with over two hundred thousand miles on the odometer. The police impounded the car at the scene, but it’s since been returned. I sold it for a hundred dollars and I was delighted to get that much. The new owner’s picking it up later in the week. It’s parked out back if you’d like to take a look. Maybe he stashed a winning lottery ticket in the glove compartment.”