'I'll bet it is,' he said.
Chapter 25
STEVE BUCKMAN HAD owned a small pink stucco house in Santa Monica, on 16th Street, below Montana. It had a blue front door, a flat roof, and a lemon tree in the front yard.
I rang the front doorbell. Inside a dog barked. I waited. Then a young woman with her dark hair up opened the door a crack. Behind her leg, I could see a dog trying to get a better look at me. I could hear children in the background and a television going.
'I'm looking for Mr. and Mrs. Buckman.'
'Excuse the door,' she said. 'But I don't want the dog to get out.'
'Of course,' I said. 'Are you Mrs. Buckman?'
'Oh God no. I'm Sharon Costin. The Buckmans don't live here anymore.'
'Did you know them when they did?' I said.
'Just when we bought the house from them.'
'How about some of the other neighbors?' I said. 'Would they know the Buckmans, you think?'
'People next door,' the woman said. 'Why you want to know?'
'I'm from the State Treasurer's Office,' I said. 'Division of Abandoned Property. We have some money for them.'
In the background I could hear some children fighting. One of them started to cry. The dog wasn't a quitter. He kept trying to squeeze by her leg.
'Talk to the people in the next house,' she said. 'Name's Lewin.'
She shut the door.
I said 'thank you' politely to the door, and went next door. A woman wearing tennis whites opened the door. She had long, blond hair, good legs and a nice tan.
'I saw you next door,' she said. 'You selling something?'
I smiled my open, friendly smile. And told my lie about abandoned property.
'Oh, sure, Steve and Lou Buckman. Mary Lou.'
'You know them?'
'Knew them. We lived next door for, what? I was pregnant with my first when we moved here, so nine years.'
'What can you tell me about them?'
'They moved out east someplace,' she said. 'Town with a funny name.'
'Potshot,' I said.
'Yes. That's it. They had some sort of business out there.'
'They get along?'
'Well as anybody, I guess. What's that got to do with abandoned properly?'
'Nothing,' I said with a big sincere smile. 'I just heard that he fooled around.'
The woman laughed.
'Oh, hell,' she said. 'They both did. I think my ex may have had a little fling with Lou.'
'Lotta that going around,' I said. 'You know what business they had in Potshot?'
'I don't know. Something to do with camping. You should talk to Nancy Ratliff. She and her ex were pretty tight with the Buckmans.'
'Where would I find her?'
'She's still here,' the woman said, and nodded at a small white house with blue trim. 'Across the street.'
'And your ex husband?'
She laughed sourly.
'Mr. Hot Pants,' she said. 'Don't know. Don't care.'
'Thanks,' I said.
'I don't want to tell you your job,' the woman said, 'but if I were you I'd lose that abandoned property story.'
I grinned at her.
'It's gotten me this far,' I said.
She shrugged. I walked across the street and rang the Ratliff bell and the door opened at once. I had caused a neighborhood alert.
'Mrs. Ratliff?'
