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“From SDPD Homicide. A mutual friend of Frankie’s and mine is writing his eulogy. She was hoping to talk to some people who knew him well when he was still a cop.”
“I clearly didn’t know him that well,” Henry said wryly. “I had no idea he was gay until this week. But I’ll talk to your friend. Frank Wilson was a good cop. I wasn’t crazy about him divorcing his wife, but she never said a bad word about him. Almost defended him, even. She’s a good woman, so her defense of him’s gotta count for something.”
There was something unsaid in his tone. Something personal. “You were fond of Sharon?”
The old man chuffed a laugh. “You some kind of shrink?”
Sam blinked. “Actually, yes. Was I that obvious?”
Henry cackled. “No. I looked you up on the computer while you were talking. I don’t just talk to anyone, you know. Who’s Frank’s friend? The one writing the eulogy?”
“Georgia Shearer. She was his neighbor at Shady Oaks, the retirement center.”
“Well, she can call. Or visit. I don’t much care.”
Henry cared. It was clear in his voice. He wanted company. “If you’d trust me with your address, I’ll drive her over.”
“Who in SDPD gave you my name?”
“Kit McKittrick.”
“Baz Constantine’s protégé. She’s making quite a name for herself.”
“She is.” Sam winced a bit at the pride in his own voice and hoped the old man hadn’t heard it. No such luck.
“And you’re fond of her,” Henry said slyly.
“Are you a shrink, sir?” Sam asked mildly.
“Nope. Just a cop for forty-five years. You learn a thing or two about people. What time will you be here?”
Sam calculated the time it would take to pick up Georgia and get to La Mesa. “Four, four fifteen. Is that okay?”
“It is.” His tone changed, becoming sadly weary. “I’ll drag out some photos I have of Frank.”
“Thank you, sir. Can I bring you anything?”
“I wouldn’t say no to an In-N-Out animal style.”
Sam lifted his brows. The burger loaded with extra spread and onions might not be the healthiest choice. “But would your doctor say no?”
Henry laughed. “Not if he doesn’t know. I’m eighty-four years old, Dr. Reeves. Let me have one vice.”
“If there’s one on the way, I’ll stop.”
“There is. I’ll text you In-N-Out’s address when I text you mine.”
Sam figured it was best to stay on the old cop’s good side. “All right. See you soon.” Then he remembered Siggy. “I’ve left my dog with my friend. If I have to go home to drop him off, I’ll hit downtown traffic. Do you have a yard where I can put him while we talk?”
“I do, but if he’s a good dog, he can come in the house. That makes the burger more of a requirement than a request.”
Sam smiled. “Deal. See you soon.” He hung up and called Georgia back. “I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes. We’re going to see an old cop and probably break his dietary restrictions with In-N-Out.”
“We’re old, Sam. Let us have a few vices.”
Sam chuckled. “That’s what he said. Stay put in your apartment. I’ll come up to get you.”
A pause. “Roxanne didn’t show up for her shift today.”
