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“This is Siggy, short for Sigmund.” Sam handed the older man the bag of In-N-Out, earning a quick grin for his efforts.
“Thank you, Sam. And if it makes you feel better, my grandson brings me one of these every week when he visits with his kids. You’re not killing me faster.”
Sam huffed a relieved breath. “I’m really glad to know that. I’d feel guilty.”
Whitfield opened the door wider. “Come in. Please.”
The inside of the house was vintage bachelor pad, complete with a BarcaLounger recliner held together with what looked like an entire roll of duct tape. The sofa was neat and clean, though, so Sam eased Georgia onto it while Whitfield settled into his recliner with a mild groan.
Siggy sat by the arm of the man’s chair, accurately identifying a new person who would pet him. Whitfield complied and Siggy wagged his tail in pleasure.
Henry sighed. “Frank.”
“He was my friend,” Georgia said quietly.
“Mine too. Although we weren’t as close as I thought. I never knew he was gay.”
“Would you have been okay with it?” Georgia asked baldly.
Sam resisted the urge to wince. He supposed that Georgia wanted to know where she stood right away.
“The gloves come off,” Whitfield said mildly.
Georgia lifted a brow. “They were never on.”
Sam cleared his throat. “She’s kind of a barracuda, Henry. Answer her question, please, so we can get to remembering Frankie.”
Whitfield sighed again. “At the time? I probably wouldn’t have been okay with Frank being gay. I would have been wrong. People change and…learn.”
“Who in your family is gay?” Georgia asked perceptively.
“My grandson. I love that boy with all my heart. So I learned to be a better man. I wish I’d known Frank was here in San Diego. I would have liked to have told him that. It stung when he left us and never looked back, but I get it now. What would you like to know, Georgia?”
“I guess I want to know what he was like back then. The Frankie I knew was gruff and could be standoffish, but he had a heart of gold. He loved his husband with all his heart.”
Whitfield drew a long breath and wheezed it out. “I’m glad he was happy. His husband died four years ago.”
Again her silver brow rose. “How did you know that?”
“Looked him up. I still dabble in researching people every now and then. Not much else to do other than watch television.”
“You could join us at Shady Oaks,” Georgia said without any sarcasm at all.
Sam wanted to stare at her in shock, but he controlled himself. The Georgia he knew would never invite a stranger anywhere.
“My grandson and his husband live on the next block. My great-grandkids come over almost every day. I’m good here, but thank you.” Whitfield grew quiet, stroking Siggy’s head. “I don’t think Frank was that much different when he was a cop. We used to call him Joe Friday because he was kind of stiff.” He glanced at Sam. “That’s from Dragnet, an old TV show. Friday was a cop.”
“I know who Joe Friday is,” Sam said dryly. “Reruns, you know.”
Georgia patted Sam’s hand. “Sam’s a good boy, even though he’s young. We like him. Frankie liked him, too.” She chuckled. “I remember the first day Sam came to play the piano for us at Shady Oaks. Frankie asked him to play some heavy metal, so Sam did.”
Whitfield laughed. “That sounds like Frank. What did he say when you fulfilled his request?”
“Flipped me a double bird,” Sam said.
Whitfield laughed harder, then wheezed again as he sobered. “He was…kind. He was wicked smart and a great judge of character. He could size a person up with a look. ‘He’s guilty,’ he’d say after meeting a suspect. Nine times out of ten he was right. And when he wasn’t, he worked that much harder to find the right perpetrator. He was methodical and had a memory like a steel trap. But he was kind. I can’t count the number of times he gave money to bums on the street. Or to women leaving abusive husbands.”
Georgia sucked in a suspiciously wet breath. “He and Ryan were foster parents. They took in gay teenagers. And just a few months ago, he paid off the medical bills of one of our nursing assistants. Her baby was sick. He was one of the best men I ever knew.”
