“Appreciate it, ma’am. We could use access to Chet’s phone accounts and his credit cards, right now.”
“Give me some time to get you the details — say by later today?”
“That would be great. Thanks for the cooperation.”
“Why wouldn’t I cooperate? I want you to find whoever did it. Chet and I had our differences but no one deserves...” She threw up her hands, letting one settle along the side of her face. “A motel. He’d hate ending up like that, with Chet it was five-star this, five-star that, getting upgraded to a suite. I grew up with a trust fund but couldn’t care less.”
She exhaled. “Who to call... Chet’s parents are gone but he does have a brother in New Jersey. Harrison. He’s an optometrist. They’re not close but Harrison needs to know... I’m sure I’ll think of other... issues.”
She walked us to the door. Milo stepped outside but I said, “A minute, Lieutenant?” and remained in the entry with Felice.
He looked at me, said, “Sure,” and kept going.
Felice Corvin said, “What is it, Doctor?”
“If at any point, you feel that I can help, please call.”
“If I feel that I will, thank you, that’s kind,” she said. “Right now, I don’t feel much of anything — kind of fuzzy in the head — like I’m in some sort of felt straitjacket — is that normal?”
“It is.”
I turned to leave. She clawed my sleeve. “Dr. Delaware, what if I don’t end up feeling anything? Does that make me horrible — or abnormal? Will it get in the way of helping my kids?”
I said, “No to all of that.”
She stared at me.
I said, “Really. Just take it at your own pace.”
“It’s nice of you to say that, but I wonder. Maybe I won’t feel. I sure don’t now. Maybe that does say something about me.”
“Felice, to feel loss there has to be something to miss.”
She flinched. “Ouch. It’s been that obvious, huh? Yes, of course it has, I haven’t exactly been subtle about our relationship. That’s the way I was brought up, say what’s on your mind. Some people find me abrasive. I sometimes try to soft-pedal but you are what you are. And with Chet, all these years...”
Her hand tightened on my arm. “The crazy thing is, Doctor, I really loved him. In the beginning. It wasn’t just some half-baked thing, there was passion. At that point in my life, I thought he was perfect. Exactly what I needed.”
“A take-charge guy.”
“Take-charge, self-confident, boisterous, sense of humor. All the things I wasn’t, back then. He could talk to anyone about anything at any time. I thought that was amazing. It let me relax and sit back if I didn’t feel like talking. I grew up listening to my parents and their professor friends, every topic picked over until the life had been squeezed out of it. Chet was different, he painted with a broad brush. He thought my parents and their friends were pretentious eggheads and told me so. At the beginning, I liked that. How he took charge of me in every way.”
Spots of color lit up her cheeks.
“What I didn’t realize was that he wouldn’t wear well. It didn’t take long.”
“But you stayed together.”
She smiled. “I could say it was for the sake of the kids. And that’s partly true. But mostly you get to a point and it’s inertia, why bother? I’m not a people person, Doctor. I find dealing with people exhausting, they weary me when they get too emotional. So after so many years together, I just didn’t see the point of upsetting the apple cart.”
She looked down, let go of my sleeve. “Oh, I’ve wrinkled your jacket, sorry.”
I smiled. “I’m sure it’ll recover.”
She smoothed down the fabric, anyway. “My little speech must’ve sounded pathetic.”
“No—”
“Whatever, Doctor. Thanks for your offer, hopefully I won’t need to take you up on it. And I do want Lieutenant Sturgis to catch whoever murdered my husband. I’m going to think of him that way. My husband. I’m going to think about him like he was in the beginning. Maybe I’ll feel.”
Chapter 21
True to her word, just after two p.m., Felice phoned Milo’s office and left the details of Chet’s cellphone and his credit card accounts. I was there and he put her on speaker.
“Thanks, Ms. Corvin.”
“Whatever helps, Lieutenant.”
“How’re the kids?”
“Brett’s taking it really hard. I haven’t seen him cry since he was in diapers — he and Chet had this macho thing going. He stopped but now he wants to be by himself and I respect that. I did manage to get some food in him. I’m telling myself it’s probably a healthy reaction. Getting in touch with his feelings — we’ll work it out. Hope the information will be useful.”
“Me, too, ma’am. How’s Chelsea?”
“Chelsea’s being Chelsea. The sad truth is, she and Chet were never close. Not that he — he was fine with her, he accepted her. She actually seems okay. At least as far as I can tell, she’s okay, thanks for asking.”
Milo clicked off. “Checked with Petra before we set out. Nothing from the canvass, Chet doesn’t seem to have bought the wine near the motel. Raul did find an image of a Range Rover heading east on Franklin a few minutes before Chet checked into the Sahara. No view of the tags, too dark to see who was inside, it tells us what we already know but no harm having a time line. In terms of the woman with him, still nothing.”
He looked at the credit info Felice had provided. “Already have one of these cards, Amex Platinum issued by Connecticut Surety for the business expenses of their West Coast regional manager. Got it from his secretary. She was appropriately shocked by the news, had no idea who the boss partied with or if he had a special place he bought wine. What else... no luck with GPS on the Rover. It’s equipped with a system but it’s non-operative. Corrosion, our car guys say it happens.”
I said, “A guy who travels all the time with no electronic guide because he failed to fix it. Maybe he sticks to the familiar. Like a woman he saw regularly whose address he didn’t want on record.”
“Good point. Okay, let’s learn more about our new victim.”
He phoned in subpoena requests, got eventual cooperation from the credit companies, resistance from the phone provider demanding a written application on “proprietary” forms supplied by its own legal department.
A patient tone of voice as he kept requesting supervisors didn’t help, nor did enough pleases and thank-yous to appease the Sycophant Gods. No hint he’d been giving the one-finger salute throughout most of the conversation.
He hung up, said, “Bastards. If Nguyen can’t facilitate, I’ll go over in person and fill out their damn forms. Enough info on Chet, something’s gotta break — hey, aren’t you proud of me? Still believing in happy endings?”
I said, “That’s just realism.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your solve rate. A whole lot more success than failure.”
He put his hands over his ears. “Positive thinking? Irish heresy!”
Worming up from his desk chair, he put on his jacket, knotted his tie. “Time for nutrition, let’s go dig poday-does out of the cold, hard sod.”
“No corned beef sandwich?”
“Hmm,” he said. “Triple decker, extra mayo, three greasy sides, and a nice frosty lager? You’re right, much better: something to feel seriously guilty about.”