“Aside from the fact that I’m going to lose their business, it went fine.” I told him Shane was already in Forester’s office and making some major decisions.

“I thought you told me he wasn’t very decisive,” Mayburn said.

“He never was before.”

We were both silent for a moment.

“I found out Forester’s cardiologist was Dr. Donald Loman,” I said. “He signed the death certificate at the emergency room and told Shane that Forester had the classic presentation for a heart attack. The Chinese doctor he saw is named Song Li.”

“We’ve got to get all the records and talk to those docs. I want to see if what Shane says about his conversation with Loman is true. We need to find out if Forester’s heart attack was as simple as that. If it was, Sam is in the clear, at least on that front.”

“And I can stop worrying that someone was out to hurt Forester.”

“I’ve been thinking, what did Forester do with the letters he told you about?”

“I’m not sure. I’d guess they’d be at work or in his home office.”

“And what about any medications he was taking, or those herbs from the Chinese doctor? Where do you think he kept those?”

“Same. But his desk at Pickett has already been cleaned out.”

“Anybody living in the house?” Mayburn asked.

“Not that I know of.”

“Then we’re going to have to pay a visit. What are you doing tomorrow?”

“I’m babysitting, remember?”

“Yeah, that’s right, and I’ve got to prep you before that. But tomorrow night?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you familiar with Forester’s place?”

“I’ve been there a bunch of times, but how would we get in?”

“Leave it to me.”

“I don’t like the sound of that. I’m an attorney, remember? An attorney who might have to start looking for another job soon. I can’t be getting arrested for breaking and entering.”

“I never get arrested.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better. Seriously, I don’t have the stomach for criminal activity. I had to steal something once when I was pledging a sorority, and it nearly killed me.”

I told Mayburn how I still felt nauseous just thinking about it.

“That was a senseless, dumb-ass theft,” he said. “The only thing we’re looking to take from Forester’s place is those letters, if we can find them, and a sample of the medications and herbs he was taking so we can test them and see if someone slipped anything in there. We’ll make a copy of the letters if we find them and we’ll replace them, so really we won’t be stealing anything.”

“I can’t believe you do stuff like that. I would never have hired you on actual cases if I’d known that.”

“Yes, you would, because I get results, and those are always on the up-and-up. I only bust into someplace to start the flow of information. Think about it. We’ll take some of those herbs from Forester’s place and have them analyzed. If there’s anything suspicious, we’ll do it by the book then. We’ll subpoena them and have them tested officially, so the results can be used in any litigation in the future, or we can turn the case over to the cops and let them do it.”

“I wouldn’t exactly describe that as on the ‘up-and-up.’”

“Of course it is. Like I said, sometimes you just need to get the ball rolling.”

I said nothing for a moment. Mayburn was not the boring, by-the-book investigator I thought he was. And obviously Sam wasn’t the person I thought he was either. In truth, they were both much different than the way I saw them. It made me wonder who else in my life I’d underestimated.

“Look, Izzy, we need to get in Forester’s house. You got a better idea?”

I thought for a second. “What about Annette? His housekeeper? I could tell her I just wanted to say goodbye to Forester in my own way. Say I wanted to look at his house one last time or something like that. Maybe she’d let me in.”

“That would work. Even if she only lets you in for two minutes, as long as one door isn’t locked for a bit, I can put something on it to make sure it won’t lock properly on her way out, and that way we can get back in.”

“But there’s the alarm. She’ll turn it on when she leaves.”

“If I’ve got access to the panel, I can figure out the code. I’d need a few minutes in there before she leaves.”

When we hung up, I called Annette.

She picked up after the second ring and said a soft hello.

I told her my story of wanting to say goodbye to Forester in my own way. I told her that I’d been thinking of all the parties he’d had on his back lawn, and I wondered if I could get one more look at the lawn and say my own private farewell there.

“I don’t think that’s appropriate. I don’t have authorization to let anyone in here, and your fiancé apparently stole a lot of money from Forester.”

“Annette, I know nothing about that. Nothing.” I paused to try and let that settle in. “Who would you have to get authorization from?”

She sniffed, then cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t know. The estate can’t be administered because of your fiancé’s crime, so it’s unclear who owns this house right now, although I’m sure it will go to Shane.”

“Will you stay on to take care of the house?” I asked.

“At least initially,” she said stiffly, “but I have no idea what will happen.”

“I’m sure Shane will keep you on if you want.” I wasn’t exactly sure about that, but suddenly I felt terrible for her, and I wanted to make her feel better. She was a sixty-two-year-old woman who might lose her job, while in the meantime unable to rely on the money Forester had left her. It occurred to me that maybe what most upset her was the two million. Was it possible she’d done something to Forester, knowing she’d get money after he died?

“I’m sorry for everything you’re going through,” I said. It was vague, intentionally. I was trying to work up a way to ask her if, or how long, she’d known she had two million waiting for her, but there seemed no polite way to do so.

“Thank you.” Again, her delivery was stiff, but then suddenly she softened. “I’d be happy to let you into the house to say goodbye. When were you thinking?”

“Tomorrow afternoon? Maybe about five?”

I’d be done with my babysitting job then, and dusk would be settling in. I could pretend to look at the lawn, while Mayburn would have some darkness to do his work.

“I’ll see you then, Izzy,” she said, and hung up.

39

At eight o’clock on Saturday night, my buzzer rang. When I pushed the intercom, I heard, “Hey, baby, it’s the King.”

“Grady?”

“No, baby, it’s the King. My Caddy is all warmed up and waiting for you.”

Downstairs, Grady held open a cab door for me. He was dressed as a seventies Elvis-fat suit with chest hair, white jumpsuit, a black sweeping pompadour and huge gold sunglasses.

When he saw me, he swiveled his hips and sang, “A hunk, a hunk of burning love.” A couple walking arm-in-arm laughed at him from across the street. I looked around to see if there was a gray Honda, a blue SUV or any other suspicious car or person. But the city was full of suspicious people on Halloween.

Grady swung his hips around again and gave me a lascivious grin.

I laughed and it felt so good.

“C’mon, baby,” Grady said. “Get into the King’s car.”

I got into the backseat.

Grady kept singing “Burning Love” then switched to “Hound Dog,” then lifted the gold sunglasses. “What are you supposed to be?”

I pointed to the devil’s ears on my head and opened my coat to show a slinky blue cocktail dress.

“Devil with a blue dress,” Grady said.

“You got it.”

“It’s not that original.”

“Oh, and Elvis is original?”

“At least I’m going all out. I’ve got a fricking fat suit on. You’re just wearing a dress you know is hot and then you stuck those things on your head.”

“May I remind you, my fiancé took off this week?” I ignored the lump of nausea that fact sent to my belly. Why was I going out tonight? The same reason I’d been doing so many things lately-I didn’t know what else to do.