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“What kind of things had she done for them?” Freddie asked, playing a hunch that there was more Keenan would say if asked the right question.
“She, ah… she had words with those hideous Cortez people who were tormenting Eloise online and in person at the meets.”
“Had words when and how?”
“After the last meet. They got into it in the parking lot. She called them racist animals.”
“We talked to them. They never said anything about that.”
“Would you tell people that someone called you a racist animal?”
“I don’t suppose I would.” Freddie thought about the way Pascal Cortez had run from them, supposedly because of a hit-and-run accident. Had he been worried about being charged with a much bigger crime? “What was the outcome of the altercation?”
“The Cortezes told her to back off, or they’d call the police. She said they should go right ahead, that she’d be happy to tell them how two grown-ass adults were harassing a child.”
Freddie wanted to say,Good for her, but he held his tongue. “Was she having trouble with anyone else in her life?”
Keenan shook his head. “The lawsuit and the bullying of her daughter by people who should’ve known better were more than enough. I worried about her. I tried to convince her to go ahead and leave, but she said she wasn’t ready yet. She was trying to find another place for them to live, but everything was so expensive, and what she could afford was far from the kids’ schools.”
“Why didn’t she ask him to leave?”
“She did. He refused. He said he wouldn’t be separated from his children for any reason.”
“He said it just like that?” Gonzo asked. “For any reason?”
“That’s what she told me. When I heard the news about what’d happened to her and the kids… In a way, I wasn’t as surprised as I should’ve been. Her life had been like a stick of dynamite lately, waiting for a place to explode. I just wish I could’ve gotten her and her kids out of there before it did.”
Freddie gave him his card along with the usual spiel about calling with anything else that might be relevant.
“I hope you find who did this to her and her kids,” Keenan said when he walked them to the door. “She was a wonderful, loving person who didn’t deserve to die this way. And neither did her kids.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“I wish there was more I could do.”
Freddie followed Gonzo down the stairs and out into the damp chill. “I don’t know about you, but I want to talk to the Cortezes again.”
“Right there with you, brother.”
They knockedon the door to the Cortez home twenty minutes later. Freddie gazed into the side window, looking for signs of life.
“They’re gone,” a woman said from the sidewalk.
Freddie spun around, recognizing her as Mrs. Gersh from the other day. She was petite and had a scarf tied around her gray hair, which was set in curlers. “Gone where?”
She shrugged. “After they came home from the police station the other day, they loaded the kids into the car and took off. Haven’t seen them since.”
“Did you notice if they had bags with them?”
“I saw a couple of suitcases.”
“What kind of car did they leave in?”
“A cranberry-colored Nissan SUV. It was an older one they bought secondhand.”
Sometimes, Freddie thought, nosy neighbors were useful.
“Do they have family within driving distance?”
