“I told you not to do this, Theo,” Sally said.
“What did the fire department say?” Theo’s voice was starting to rise. “Did they say I wired it wrong?”
“I’m waiting on their final report, but they say the fire started in the area of the electrical panel.”
“The area,” he said. “So, somebody could have left some oily rags in that area, and that’s what caused the place to go up in smoke.”
“I do what my gut tells me,” I said.
“Yeah, well, your gut sucks.”
He was wasting my time. I’d made up my mind not to use him again and that was it. My eyes wandered down to the truck nuts hanging from his back bumper.
Theo saw me eyeing them. “Need a pair?” he asked.
“Another thing,” I said. “Anybody shows up at one of my jobs with those hanging off the back of the truck gets sent home. I won’t have my daughter walking past garbage like that.”
“It’s none of your business how I or anybody else dresses up his truck.”
“That’s right,” I agreed. “But I decide whose trucks come to my job sites and whose don’t.”
Theo’s hands fisted at his sides.
“Theo, knock it off,” Sally said, stepping forward. “I told you not to do this but you wouldn’t listen.” To me she said, “Glen, I’m so sorry. I swear, I told him.”
“Get in the truck,” Theo told her. His face had gone beet red with fury. He got in and slammed the door but Sally didn’t join him.
I felt a pang of guilt. “I don’t mean to disrespect your boyfriend in front of you, Sally. But he asked, and I told him.”
“He’s not what he seems, Glen. He’s got a lot of good points. He’s got a good heart. The other day, at Walgreens, the lady gave him too much change and he gave it back.”
What can you say to that?
Sally’s head drooped when I didn’t answer. Then she sighed and shook her head. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about,” she said.
I waited.
“I feel funny telling you about this. I don’t want to get him into trouble.”
“Theo?”
“No. Doug.” She sighed again. “He asked me to double his paycheck for a week, then not write him one the next week. I said if he wanted an advance, he had to clear it through you. He said it could be our little secret.”
Now it was my turn to sigh. “Thanks for telling me, Sally.”
“I think he’s having big-time money problems, him and Betsy.”
“He called me about this last night.”
“I know you’ll have to tell him I told you, but when you do, please tell him I felt bad about it.”
“Leave it with me.” I reached out and touched her arm. “How you doin’?” I didn’t have to ask her how long it had been now since her father had died. She’d lost him the same day I’d lost Sheila. “At the office, it’s hard to get a moment.”
“Okay,” she said. “I miss him. I miss him so much. It’s just so weird,” she continued. “Me losing my dad, and a few hours later…”
“Yeah,” I said, and forced a smile. Then, even though Theo was glaring at both of us through the windshield and would probably disapprove, I gave her a quick hug. The last time I’d done that had been at her father’s funeral, which had been held a day before Sheila’s. Given my own circumstances at the time, I might have been inclined to give the service a pass. But Sally had no family, no siblings, and was carrying a heavy load alone. My own sorrow was so raw I’d known how much it would mean to Sally if I spent two hours helping her deal with hers.
In the couple of weeks since, they’d figured out what had happened. Sally’s dad was on meds that slowed down blood clot formations and thereby reduced his risk of another heart attack. Sally gave him his dose in the morning, but shortly after she’d left for work, he’d apparently become confused and given himself another shot. The overdose caused him to bleed to death internally.
“We pick ourselves up and keep on going,” I told her as Theo glared at us. “There’s not really much else we can do.”
“I guess,” she said. “How’s Kelly doing? Is she home?” Sally remained Kelly’s favorite babysitter, even though Sally hadn’t sat her since she was four.
“She’s with her grandmother. She’ll be sorry she missed you.” I hesitated. I wasn’t big on self-revelation, but found myself saying, “Nobody told me it would be so hard. Some father-daughter discussions are easier than others.”
“Oh yeah,” Sally said, and grinned. “I can just hear you giving her the talk about her monthly visitor.”
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to that.” Maybe I could recruit Fiona when the time came. Or better yet, Sally.
“If you need me to talk to her about-”
“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll keep it in mind. Listen, you should go. Theo looks like he’s going to blow a fuse.”
She tipped her head toward the pickup’s rear bumper. “Sorry about the truck nuts.”
“I wouldn’t let Kelly ride in a truck that had those on them,” I said.
She flushed. My words had shamed her.
“See you Monday,” she said, turning away, and got back into the truck. Theo squealed the tires as he pulled away from the curb.
I went back inside and poured another cup of coffee I knew I wouldn’t drink. Sally and I had always had a kind of little sister-big brother thing going on, so my criticism must have felt like a harsh judgment. I was still brooding about that when the phone rang. “Hello?”
“You’re home,” said a male voice I thought I recognized.
“Who’s this?”
“Darren Slocum. You and I need to talk right now.”
FOURTEEN
I went out on the porch and waited for Darren Slocum to show.
My curiosity was piqued. Why would Slocum want to talk to me? I would have thought that other matters, like picking a casket, would be more of a priority.
I was only out there about five minutes when Slocum’s red pickup came cruising down the street and came to a stop in front of the house. “Darren,” I said, descending the porch steps and extending a hand as he came up the walk. “I’m so sorry about Ann.”
We shook, Slocum accepting my condolences with a nod. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s a bit of a shocker.”
“Tell me about Emily.”
“She’s a disaster. Kid loses her mom, all of a sudden. I guess you know what that’s about.”
“What happened, Darren?”
He thrust out his jaw and looked up, as though trying to draw some strength first. “There was an accident.”
The word sent an unexpected chill down my spine. “A car accident?” I asked.
“Sort of, but not exactly.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’d gone down High Street, by the harbor, and it looks like she got a flat tire on the passenger’s side, pulled over and got out to have a look-the door was open and the engine was still running-and anyway, she was parked up close to the edge there and it looks like she lost her footing, and went into the water. A guy I know, another Milford cop, spotted her just under the water there.”
“Jesus,” I said. “I’m very sorry. I really am.”
“Yeah, well, thanks.”
“I don’t know what else to say.”
