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“What does it matter anymore?”

“It matters. I can see you being so hurt that you can’t think about that now. But it matters to me.”

She looked at me closely, maybe seeing me for the first time. “Did you know the girl he was living with?”

“Mia. Yes.”

She faltered, and I rushed in. “She was a good person. He was happy with her. Believe me.”

“Well, that’s something, at least. All right. I’ll tell you what Oscar was ranting about, if it will do any good. My father had a home in Kent, Michigan,” she said. “It’s on the lake. We used to spend summers there. When he died, he left the property to me. We don’t get up there very often, not for the last few years. We pay a man in the town to look in on the place from time to time. My husband received a call from him a while ago. He had noticed cars parked on the property from time to time. It looked as though someone was using the place regularly, and he wanted to know if he should continue to go in and check the pipes.

“Of course, we had no idea what he was talking about. We thought at first the house was being burglarized. But Oscar questioned Wilton and got him to admit he was the one who’d been using the place. He’d been bringing friends up for—well, I could imagine what for. I take it you weren’t one of the guests.”

“Definitely not,” I said. Nor was anybody I knew.

“Oscar was furious. Wilton promised him he wouldn’t do it again. But when Oscar made a trip out there to check up on him, he found evidence Wilton lied to us. It was obvious the place was still being used. Oscar went off the deep end. He told Wilton if he ever went there again without our permission he’d have him arrested.”

“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

“I said he found ‘evidence,’ because that is the word Oscar used. But he didn’t just mean dirty dishes and the leavings of a few marijuana cigarettes.”

“What else did he find?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t discuss it with me. But he and Wilton fought like wild animals about it. I thought it would blow over like the other trouble between them in the past.”

“What trouble was that? Selling grass to his high school buddy?”

“Yes. Oscar had to extricate him. But this thing with my father’s place was altogether different. I just know that my husband had been talking wild the last two weeks, saying things I didn’t understand.”

“Like what?”

“That he’d pulled our son back from the edge for the last time. That Wilton’s behavior was jeopardizing his law practice and his reputation. He even said if Wilton didn’t change his ways, he’d—”

I supplied the words. “He’d kill him.”

“That’s right. Kill him. He said it the way every parent on earth has ever said those words. Except now . . . well, now he’s left with all that on his heart. You saw for yourself what it’s done to him. And me.”

“You have no idea what they were arguing about? What Mr. Mobley found in the house?”

“No. He won’t tell me.”

I knew how much chance there was of his telling me.

“Anything else you can think of? Old fights with people? Anyone ever threaten him? Any chance his death was connected to your husband’s affairs, or even yours?”

“No, none of those things.”

“Is your husband pushing the police to find out who killed Wilt?”

“Yes, Oscar is trying to throw his weight around. Another way to assuage his conscience. I doubt that he’s frightening anyone, though. He’s defeated. It took this to defeat him.”

“Your husband’s not used to being defeated, I imagine.”

Her mouth pulled suddenly to one side. “No,” she said, “he isn’t.”

Oh, man. All the things Wilt had told me about the unhappiness in this house—they couldn’t have been even half the story.

Hope saw me to the door a moment later.

“One more thing,” I said. “Well, actually two. Did Wilton have a friend named Alvin? Or has your husband mentioned that name?”

“No. Who is he?”

“I’m not sure. The last thing is, it looks like we’ll all be moving out soon. I’ll have Wilt’s things sent to you if you want.”

“That’s very nice of you. I’d like to give you something, too, to remember him by.