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“You really need to start doing that. You’re not getting any younger.”
For a second Puller thought she was going to say, “We're not getting any younger.”
“Sound advice.”
“Only if you take it. I’ll call you as soon as I know anything on the plate. In the meantime try not to get killed down there. I’m just starting to like you.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“So you said your aunt left you the house?” “What the lawyer told me.”
“A house in Paradise?”
“Guess so.”
“I might have to come down and check it out.”
“Why’s that?” he said.
“Hell, isn’t it obvious? I’ve never been to Paradise before. Like to see if it lives up to its billing.”
“Well, it hasn’t so far.”
Puller clicked off and pondered what to do next. He looked at his watch. Now that he didn’t have to go down to the police station and press charges he had a little free time before his dinner with Landry.
He had some items on his to-do list.
Check out the lawyer Griffin Mason.
Check on Diego and his cousins.
Duplicate the ten-mile there-and-back trip his aunt might have taken.
He made up his mind quickly: check on Diego and his cousins.
Just in case.
CHAPTER 41
“He is gone.”
Puller stood in the doorway of Diego’s small apartment and looked down at Isabel. Little Mateo was behind her, his thumb stuck in his mouth.
“Is that unusual?” asked Puller. “Him not being here? It seemed to me that he spent a lot of time on the streets.”
“He comes back for lunch. But he did not. He always comes by six, but he did not,” said Isabel. “Do you have a phone?”
She shook her head.
“When did he leave?”
“This morning. I worked late at the restaurant with mi abuela. Diego was here looking after Mateo. He left before I got up. Mi abuela did not hear him leave either. I am very worried.”
“Did he say last night what he might be doing today?”
She shook her head again. “He usually goes down to the beach. He sells things to the tourists. Sometimes he works for the hotels.”
“He’s too young for that, isn’t he?”
She looked at him like he was crazy.
Puller said, “Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for him.”
Puller looked at the bruises both had received from the gang of three. “Have any of those punks come around here, Isabel?”
“I have seen none of them. I hear that you beat them up again. And their friends.”
“Who did you hear that from?”
“I just hear it.”
Puller nodded. “I’m going to get you a disposable phone and leave you my contact info. That way you can reach me and I can get in touch with you, okay?”
She nodded.
It took Puller about half an hour, but he dropped the phone off and then climbed into his Tahoe and drove off.
As much as he didn’t like it, Diego would have to wait. He hoped the boy was okay. But something was telling him that wasn’t the case.
Twenty minutes later he pulled onto the street where Griffin Mason had his law office. The same Infiniti was in the driveway.
Yet he didn’t pull into Mason’s driveway. He spotted another little house down the street with a sign out front and pulled in there. He got out and knocked on the door. An attractive blondehaired woman in her forties answered the door. She was short and curvy and wearing a short black skirt, black hose, and a matching jacket. Her white blouse was open enough at the top to show a slice of cleavage from her ample bosom. Since it was still about ninety degrees outside, Puller assumed that in all that black plus stockings she was probably sweating just by being at the door.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“My name is John Puller. I was out here yesterday meeting with Griffin Mason over an estate issue. He’s not my lawyer. He represented my aunt, who recently passed away. He said to check references before I decided to keep him on with the estate work.”
She blanched. “Grif gave me as a reference?” “That’s right, Ms. Dowdy. You seem surprised.”
Puller had gotten her name from the sign outside that had her picture and also helpfully included the fact that she was fluent in Spanish.
“That’s because I am. And I don’t really have time to talk.”
She started to close the door, but Puller held out his Army creds. “I came down here yesterday from D.C. My aunt died unexpectedly. I don’t know a soul in town. I’m just trying to come up to speed fast and doing my proper due diligence. The military way. Any help you can give me would be appreciated.”
“My son’s in the Navy.”
“Navy’s given me a ride many a time.” He stared at her expectantly.
She glanced down the street toward Mason’s office. “I’ve got a dinner meeting to go to in about twenty minutes, but I can answer questions for you until then. Come on in.”
A minute later they were seated in her office, which was far neater than Mason’s.
“So, as I explained Ms. Dowdy...”
“Just make it Sheila,” she said. She pulled out a cigarette. “Don’t worry, it’s an electronic one. Damn thing really works. Smoked for twenty years and then went cold turkey with this a year ago. Hope my lungs can regenerate.”
Puller watched as water vapor rose from the device, and then refocused on her.
“As I said, Sheila, I’m just checking references on Mason. I assume you know him?”
“Oh, I know Grif all right.”
“So would you recommend him?”
“I’m a lawyer. I say anything negative then somebody can sue me. And Grif certainly would.”
“Well, that in itself is sort of a negative answer,” pointed out Puller.
“But nothing actionable,” she replied promptly.
“So you wouldn’t recommend him?”
She sat back, studied him. “Who was your aunt?”
“Betsy Simon.”
“Didn’t know her. But if she has Grif handling her estate, it’s probably most cost-efficient to let him keep going. But a piece of advice, watch the financial accounts like a hawk.”
“Is that sometimes a problem with Mason?”
“I wouldn’t use the word ‘sometimes.’ ”
“Then why would people use him?”
“He must hide his tracks well.”
“But you must know differently. How?”
“Let me put it this way. I’ve been practicing law down here pretty much as long as he has. Our client list is very similar. We handle the same sorts of cases. Trusts and estates lawyers are not like the Wall Street M and A guys. We don’t get rich doing this. I sure as hell haven’t, and I work my ass off, excuse the language.”
“But Mason has gotten rich?”
