Sweat broke out on Ray’s forehead in the sixty-five-degree office. “Delilah–” Ray croaked.
“Did you know Oscar Robles?” I stood in front of Ray, hoping to deflect Delilah’s sulfuric stare.
Delilah’s gaze flicked to me. “Who?”
“He played poker here, I think in the tournaments?”
Ray moved behind me, and a cruel woman would have teased him about cowering, but I had a motherly instinct toward Ray. Maybe not motherly, more like sisterly, because he had the ability to annoy me like a sibling.
“Are you with the IRS?” Delilah asked.
“No,” I said.
“Yes,” Ray said at the same time. He moved to stand beside me. “I’m doing an investigation into Oscar’s finances for the probate.” He fished into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and searched, pushing the cash aside. “Sorry, I ran out of business cards.” He lied. He leaned back on his heels. “We’re here to speak with Mr. Bollock on official business.”
My eyebrows nearly singed off with Delilah’s latest glare. I’d have to practice that look in the mirror later.
“I didn’t think you were here to see me.” Her acid tone could take paint off the wall. She punched a button on her phone. “Mr. Bollock, Ray McGuffin is here to speak with you about Oscar Robles.”
“Send him in,” the disembodied voice said.
Ray gave me a give-me-fifteen-minutes look. I replied with a make-it-ten scowl.
Ray closed Bollock’s door behind him, leaving me alone with one very ticked-off female.
“How do you know Ray?” Delilah asked.
“He’s a neighbor.” I shrugged.
“Sanders?” She leaned back in her chair. “Any relation to Liz?”
“Sister-in-law.”
Delilah nodded, seemed to absorb the information, and then her eyes softened. “You married Joe, right?”
“Yes.”
She gave me a quick smile. “You work at Sunnyview.”
My eyebrows rose and I nodded, but wondered how long this interrogation was going to go on. I knew she was assessing whether or not to like me based on my relationships in Forest Forks. Unlike Ray, I was more like food dye, diluted in the community pool of Forest Forks. I’d been changed by raising my children here, no longer the Charlie from California. Heck, I’d lived in Forest Forks more years than Ray, but still, I was considered an outsider.
And Ray’s friend.
But a Sanders.
I waited to see if my being a Sanders outweighed her dislike of Ray, and maybe she’d answer some questions.
“Do you think you have a list of the tournaments Oscar played in?” I asked.
“Maybe. Why do you want it?”
“Honestly, I’m just trying to find some of Oscar’s friends.” I took a breath and chose my words carefully. “He rented our lake cabin. His parents didn’t want anything of his, and it seems a waste to send it all to Goodwill, you know? I hoped to contact his friends, see if they wanted something.” I could feel the heat flush up my neck, because I was a lousy liar.
But Delilah frowned. “You found him, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the guy, but that’s just awful.”
“Yeah.” I studied my shoes, covered in grey dust from the crushed rocks at The Salty Pickle’s parking lot.
“Give me a sec, I think I can get that list for you.”
I looked up and met her shy smile.
“You were my aunt’s nurse at Sunnyview. She really loved you. Do you still play Trivial Pursuit out there?”
“Yes, every other Friday. She can still come and join us, it’s open to anyone.”
Delilah chuckled. “I’ll let her know.” She looked up and wrinkled her nose at me. “She’s been awfully lonely since Uncle Greg died.” Delilah licked her bottom lip and leaned closer. “Is it true about the coffee bar?” she whispered.
“Oh yeah. Regular meat market.” Although, some of the seniors made it look more like a turkey-jerky market.
Delilah grinned. “Expect us next Friday.” She typed into her computer and the printer behind her started to hum. She gathered the pages and stapled them together. “This is a list of all the tournaments and participants for the last year.”
“Thank you.” I took the pages from her. “I’ll save you seats next Friday.”
“That’s great.” She was stunning when she smiled. Mr. Bollock’s door opened and her face shut down. She turned away.
Ray gave me a quick nod.
“Bye, and thank you again,” I said to Delilah.
Ray exhaled loudly in the hallway. He trotted toward the elevator. “Check your purse.”
“Why.”
The elevator doors opened and he ushered me inside. “Make sure Joe’s balls are still in there. She’s got quite the collection.”
“Clearly. Do you want to swing by her house and pick up yours?” I punched the button for the first floor.
“Nah, she fed-exed them to me when I was in boot-camp.”
“What happened Ray?”
“I deserve the animosity. I took her virginity and totaled her car in the same night. Then I left for boot camp and never called.” He shrugged. “I was an ass, but there isn’t a greeting card that covers that.” The elevator doors opened and he ushered me outside. “Besides, I kinda thought she’d get over it.”
I blinked, unable to form a response.
“I guess she didn’t.” He looked at me. “Look, if you’ve got sage words to make this better, lay ‘em on me, otherwise, let’s go. Bollock wasn’t happy I asked questions, and he refused to give me the list it looks like you’re holding in your hand.”
I stuffed the list into my purse. “Delilah printed off the tournaments and participants for the last year.”
“That’s perfect. Bollock says Christine Scottman is a professional poker player. She knew Oscar, but they weren’t friends.” Ray shrugged. “Not sure she has a reason to kill him. She was a better player. But these were high-stake games and she might know if Oscar had to borrow cash to buy-in. He might have borrowed money from the wrong guy.”
“Okay.” We exited the casino and were in the car. “So, what’s next?
“We find out if Oscar had to borrow money to play, and then find out who he got it from.” Ray started the car and headed toward home. He cleared his throat. “So, you
