W is for Wasted
Page 163“That’s my guess.”
She took out saucers and coffee cups and filled both from a thermos. She put a small pitcher of milk on the table and set the sugar bowl close by. Then she sat down. “You know what bugs me? The bill collectors were hounding him. And I mean, hounding him. A lot of it was nickel-and-dime stuff. I’m not saying the bills weren’t overdue, but some were in the two- to three-hundred-dollar range. There wasn’t anything major, except maybe his back rent. It burns my ass to think how many debts he could have paid off with money like that.”
“You know how he was. I’m sure in his mind, paying bills wasn’t any fun. That’s why he avoided it. I’m sure he felt better saving for a trip, which was at least something positive.”
“Oh, right, and thanks a bunch, pal. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that plan.”
“If it’s any comfort, he probably hadn’t booked anything.”
“Be thankful for small favors.”
I put the clip of money on the table between us. “What are you thinking the source for this is?”
“You go first.”
“No, you first. You were married to him.”
“Well, he did pick up a job running surveillance in Reno. That’s the work he asked Dietz to cover for him.”
Ruthie thought about that while the two of us stared at the wad of money. “Do you really believe that’s where it came from?”
“No.”
Ruthie actually laughed. “I appreciate your honesty. I thought chances were good that it was hush money of some kind. Who was the victim? Do you have any idea?”
“Pete had only one job in the last six months as far as we could tell. There are two or three people associated with that client, and of those, only one has money—a doctor out at UCST with something to hide. I was in his office less than an hour ago and there’s something off. Somehow Pete picked up a whiff of it and cashed in. I can’t prove it, of course, but I’d lay odds.”
“Honestly, I’m not saying I approve. All I’m saying is if my husband was a crook, I wish he’d been better at money management,” she said.
“With Pete, there’s always something to forgive,” I said.
“So what do you advise? You think I should go to the police?”
“Oh, you bet.” She propped her chin on her fist. “I wasn’t sure you knew about his tendency to play fast and loose. I wouldn’t have said anything myself, but you understand where he was coming from.”
“I knew him in the good old days and he wasn’t exactly a model citizen back then. Sweet guy,” I added in haste.
“I can’t tell you how much I miss him.” Her smile was pained. “I guess one of these days I’ll get used to it.”
32
When I arrived home, there was a parking spot right in front, which I took as a good sign. As I rounded the corner, moving into the backyard, I saw Henry in the act of closing his garage doors. He turned and picked up his four heavy plastic grocery bags, two in each hand.
“I thought you’d already done your grocery shopping.”
“These are for Ed. I’m trying five different brands of wet food to see which he prefers. He turns his nose up at beef. He says cats don’t eat cows.”
“Opinionated little guy, isn’t he? When I came home Tuesday, he popped in for a visit, just to have a look around. I was surprised he was out.”
“That’s because I put him in.”
“How’d he manage to get out?”
“Beats me. Cats are mysterious. He might have transmogrified himself and slipped through the cracks like smoke,” I said.
“You think he’s capable of doing that?”
“How do I know? This is only the second or third cat I’ve met in my life.”
“I’ll have to keep an eye on him,” he said. “How was your meeting with Dr. Reed? I hope he put your mind at ease.”