“You check the bedroom closet?”
“Just clothes and a dozen boxes of shoes.”
Alex walked to the closet. He picked up a box and it was full of letters. “Ah, my wife used to keep her old love letters in shoe boxes.”
“Let’s take them and I’ll go through them later.”
Alex pulled out four boxes. “She was corresponding a lot.” He put the lid on the box without going through them.
“Look in the desk in the room off the living room on the left.”
“Okay,” Alex said. He started with the pile of bills with pink notices in them. “Electric, mortgage, all marked overdue. Her credit cards were full up. And she had only about five hundred in savings.”
He looked at her cell phone records, and the last bill listed a call to Santiago Chile. The number matched Javier’s. It lasted five minutes.
Opening the bottom drawer, he pulled out a closed double-framed picture. On one side was a young woman who must have been in her late twenties and the other half a man about the same age.
“Who’s this?” Alex asked.
Harris came into the room and took a quick look over Alex’s shoulder. “The handsome one is me.”
“That handsome guy, is you?”
“Yeah, where was it?”
“Bottom desk drawer on top of a bunch of papers. There’s one over there on the fireplace. Looks like a snapshot that’s been enlarged.”
Harris felt his throat close and he turned away. He took the picture off the mantel and his face reddened and he fought back tears. “That’s me. I’ll be back,” he managed to choke out. He headed for the bedroom.
There was a sharp knock on the door. Alex peered through the peephole then opened the door. A policeman stood on the front porch. “Checking security, the woman who lived here has been reported killed. Who are you?”
“I’m Susan Abbott’s father’s best friend, Alex Sloan. He’s very upset over her death. He just wanted to be near her. I didn’t want him to come here alone.”
“I need some identification.” Alex pulled out his driver’s license.
“You’re from Key West?” He noted the name and said, “I understand, Sir. I was just checking in case you were an intruder. Tell him I’m sorry for his loss.”
Alex nodded. “I’m going to keep an eye on him. We’ll be driving back to Key West soon.”
“Take care.” The Officer said.
“We will.”
Harris appeared back in the living room. “Who was that?”
“A cop checking on the house. No problem.”
Harris nodded. “I’ve got photos of the bills and I photographed her address book. Let’s finish up and you can drive my car back to Key West, with those heavy rain clouds, it will be a slower trip.” Harris looked all in.
Alex said, “We should have some coffee and a sandwich, then head back. I’ll drive. I’ll call and cancel my plane for tomorrow morning.”
“Okay, meet you at the airport rental return and we’ll head back.”
“I’ll drive,” Alex repeated. “You can get some rest and we’ll grab food on the way.”
“That’s a plan.” Harris followed Alex to the return car terminal, then he moved to the passenger side of the car.
* * *
Harris sat back in his seat and seemed to Alex that he was a little more relaxed.
“It’s something that she had my picture on the mantel…right?”
“Right. I would say that if she truly hated you, she wouldn’t have your picture in a place of honor in her home.”
“I guess I gave up on her.”
“I don’t see it like that. You and your wife couldn’t live together anymore. You got out of a bad situation that put your daughter square in the middle of the turmoil. That’s not a safe place for a kid.”
“Yeah, it became obvious that it was over. That’s the way Stephanie wanted it. She always got what she wanted.”
“So then don’t beat yourself up over it. You have a chance to really help find her kids, which brings me to an idea I had. You might want to talk to Jerry and Chichi. They have resources that I don’t. I’ll work with them, but on my own. I really don’t have access to documents and places where they do.”
“Hadn’t thought about that. I’ll give them a call.”
“Good, now try to get some sleep. We have about four hours before we get to Key West.”
Harris nodded, lowered the back of the seat and drifted off to sleep.
Tuesday Morning
Chichi Ramirez jumped when the office phone rang. She was reading the newspaper, online.
“Jamison Private Investigation, Chichi Ramirez speaking, may I help you?”
“Chichi, it’s Harris.”
“Harris, what a nice surprise.”
“Look, I need to speak to you and Jerry about finding someone.”
“You need to speak with Jerry. He’ll be here in an a few minutes. Come on over.”
“See you soon.”
Chichi cleared her screen just as Jerry walked through the door.
“Jerry, Harris is on his way over. He has a job for us.”
“The police want to hire us? What’s going on?”
“He should be here soon. I’ll get the table ready.”
Jerry sat down at his desk and pulled out a fresh yellow pad of paper.
“Any idea what this might be about?” Jerry asked, smiling as Chichi walked across the room with a tray holding a coffee press and coffee cups.
“What are you smiling about?”
“You. You’re beautiful. I’m a lucky guy.”
She set the tray down and looked into Jerry’s blue eyes but her thoughts were on the job. “I know a few days ago there was a murder, but the press hasn’t said any more about it. I wonder if
