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They got down to it and asked for a copy of the will as well as a list of the Lathams’ assets and insurance policies along with any debts to the estate, all of which, it turned out, were held in a trust, and the attorney had no trouble handing over the documents.
“What about their divorce papers?” Tanaka asked as she picked up one of the glasses on the tray.
Thick eyebrows slammed together. “I don’t have . . . there was no divorce. Not that I’m aware of.”
Tanaka asked, “Mrs. Latham never mentioned wanting to file?”
A quick shake of his head. “It was obvious that theirs wasn’t always a happy marriage, the second for both of them, but Paul never mentioned a word about them splitting up, and I never dealt with Brindel, except when we needed her signature. Paul handled all of the finances. No one filed for dissolution of the marriage, at least not that I’m aware of, and I think I would be.”
“Do you know if Mrs. Latham had her own attorney?” Tanaka took a swallow from the glass.
“No . . .” He hesitated again. “No, no one that I know. But . . . it’s possible, I suppose.”
Paterno asked, “How about an Ivan Haas? He’s a prominent divorce attorney, isn’t he?” They’d found his name in her cell phone.
“Ivan? Well, yes, but . . .” Casey grew even more thoughtful. “I guess that’s possible. Anything is and, as you said, he’s one of the best divorce attorneys in the state.”
“So, if they were splitting up, Mrs. Latham could hire, say, Haas, and you would represent Paul Latham?” Paterno suggested.
“I’d stay out of that mess entirely. Probably refer him to someone who specializes in divorce.” He sighed and wrinkles appeared on his forehead. “Seriously, I had no idea that there was any talk of separation or divorce.”
They talked a little while longer and Tanaka polished off her glass of water along with Paterno’s untouched glass. “Thanks,” Paterno said as Tanaka gathered the documents. “If we have questions, we’ll call.”
“Do.” Casey walked them through the reception area. “And catch whoever it was who killed Paul and Brindel. They’re . . . they were good people.”
“That’s the plan,” Tanaka told him, and once they were through the glass doors leading to the hallway and elevators, she glanced at Paterno. “‘Good people? ’” she repeated. “First time I heard that about the Lathams.” The elevator bell dinged and the doors opened. They stepped inside and punched the button for the lower level parking area. Tanaka reached into her pocket and withdrew a key. “Here. You drive,” she said, handing him a key ring as the elevator car jolted to a stop. “I want to look over the will.” As they exited the elevator and made their way through the gloomy parking garage, her cell phone rang and she answered. He only heard parts of the conversation and surmised it had to do with the case.
It did.
They settled into the Crown Vic as she ended the call. “That was the lab. It’s all very preliminary, but it could be we have some hairs that aren’t part of the family and don’t match the housekeeper.”
“Big house. Lots of people coming and going.”
“It’s a start,” she argued as he turned the ignition and drove out of the underground lot to stop suddenly, waiting for a woman pushing a baby stroller to pass in front of the Crown Vic’s grille. The woman was busy texting as she maneuvered the stroller through other pedestrians.
“Jesus,” he said under his breath, a rush of adrenaline firing his blood. He was inches from hitting the woman.
“She never even saw you.”
Paterno rolled down his window and said, “Hey!”
The young mother finally looked up. Saw the police car and frowned.
“Watch where you’re going! I nearly hit you.”
“And I’m on a sidewalk,” she said angrily. “Your fault.”
He steamed as the woman pushed the stroller away.
“She’s right you kno
w.”
“But her kid—”
“I know. Just drive. Get over it.” Tanaka reached for her own phone again and the sidewalk cleared.
Paterno eased the big car into traffic, his blood pressure lowering slightly.
