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I laughed. "It's Hawaii."
"And you dragged Jack onto the beach?"
"Uh, no. It was his idea."
A longer pause.
"We aren't surfing, Evelyn," I said. "Or sunbathing, really. Did you know people still do that? You'd think they'd never heard of skin cancer. Anyway, we're just sitting on the beach in our swimsuits, discussing the case. We might even go into the water." I paused. "Although, on second thought . . . Hey, Jack? How would you feel about surf lessons? Or snorkeling?"
"Sure," he said without looking over.
"You realize he only does these things to make you happy, Dee."
I glanced at Jack, lying on his back, face raised to the sun.
"You're right. He looks miserable. I am a bad, bad person."
Jack lifted his sunglasses and arched one brow.
"Don't worry," I said. "I won't torture him much longer. We have a case to pursue. So, on that note . . ."
"The mailing address was a house. A house that belonged to Sheila Walling's mother, who died a few years ago, and it seems Sheila is waiting out the housing market before selling. She still owns it, and it's been empty since her mother's death."
"You researched the house, too? Wow. Thank you. That is above and beyond. You're good. I don't know what I'd do without--"
"You still owe me."
"Nope, totally don't. That took you an hour. I remain in the black. I'm just heaping on the praise to make you feel good. You're old. You need a little sunshine to warm your twilight years."
"Fuck. You."
I laughed. "I do appreciate it, Evelyn. You know I do. If you can send me the address, that would be awesome. And I think Jack wants to talk to you."
He lifted his glasses again and mouthed, "I do?"
I mouthed, "Be nice," and then passed him the phone. "Tell her how much you're secretly hating this trip."
He snorted, took the phone and said to Evelyn. "Yeah, it's awful. Good thing you're not here. Too much sand. Too much sun. Too much lazing around drinking shit with umbrellas. You'd hate it."
I motioned that I was going into the water. He mouthed that he'd join me in a minute and resumed talking to Evelyn as I scampered across the hot sand.
I confirmed that the situation was exactly as Evelyn said. Sheila's mother had passed two years ago, and she'd inherited the house. Presumably, she was waiting for a boost in the housing market. But she wasn't renting it, either. Which concerned me. One would think that if she was worried about losing money, she'd rent the place. Unless she had another purpose for it.
When I saw the house, I could tell why Sheila wasn't using it herself. I'd gone by her place earlier, and it was double the size, in a much better neighborhood. Her mother's house was tiny, barely more than a clapboard shack, and in serious need of renovation before it even saw tenants.
According to Evelyn's research, Sheila's mother hadn't lived in it for years, instead spending her waning days in an upscale hospice. The house would need renovation to put it on the market. The neighborhood, though, was decent, the other homes in much better shape. So it might be in Sheila's best interests to leave it uninhabited and unfixed until after the divorce. Give Victor half of the current value and then renovate and sell it. It was, after all, her inheritance.
A privacy fence surrounded the small backyard, and I snuck in that way. Both a key lock and a deadbolt secured the back door. I was in before I knew it.
No alarm system inside. Or so I thought until I noticed a faint red line hovering six inches off the hall floor.
I eased back on my haunches and studied it. A laser line, like one might see in an art museum. I stepped over and traced the line along to a small box on the wall--a device that I presumed sent an alert to a remote location. I took photos and e-mailed them to Felix. Then I checked the front door and found the same laser trigger there.
Someone wanted to know whether anyone came into the house. Not a person breaking in but simply entering, even with a key. Yet it was a clumsy system. I'd spotted it during the day, and it would be unmistakable after dark.
I had an idea what that alert system meant, though. What it was being used for.
I looked for a basement first, which proved that I don't have any experience living on an island. There was only a crawlspace. I checked bedrooms next. Both were empty, like the rest of the house. Any belongings had long since been removed, leaving only dust.
